Power Camp

"The bottom space" is plagued by invisibility and vulnerability -- bottoms aren't seen by higher-ups, though higher-ups are constantly influencing bottoms' lives in major and minor ways. On this tier, group-think develops: us forms to fight against them.

"The middle space" is a world of tearing -- consistently conflicting needs, requests, priorities, demands. What tops and bottoms want from them, they don't have. What they want, they go to tops and bottoms to get. Those in the middle tend to ignore each other: they have no time or interest in forming middle-middle bonds.

"The top space" is characterized by complexity -- an endless series of ambiguous and unpredictable issues to deal with. To cope, tops streamline. They stake out personal terrain and become decreasingly involved in the system as a whole. The result: rigid boundaries, painful polarization, and turf wars.

Act Three: Personality Conflict

the next morning the elites are cranky -- they've gotten little sleep and feel their privacy's been violated. The middles are cold -- after trekking back baggageless from the Manor, they gave all their blankets to the bottoms, unaware of the stolen bedding. And the immigrants stumble toward the dining hall huddled in an Ellis Island-esque mass.

Inside, immigrant Lou picks a minibox of Frosted Flakes off the bottoms' table, pours in some milk, and continues last night's strategy talk. "The more people work within the system, the stronger the system becomes," he says.

"Well," says Lena, "I totally disagree with just keeping the status quo."

Hans adjusts his square glasses and puts down his spoon, showing his considerable discontent. "Let's just say our power comes from our collective labor," he says, stumbling over his English in a way that isn't quite believable. "If the group fractures, we all lose."

By meal's end, it's agreed that the only fracture allowed will be for immigrant Kaye to act as the group's negotiator. So while the bottoms -- including Lena -- head off to scrape benches, Kaye walks into Boston Cottage, the elites' office, accepts a cup of hot tea, and listens as Fred -- Mr. Winslow to the immigrants -- begins.

"This is our economic model," he says, exposing a carefully prepared spreadsheet that reads: "Work: AM 2 hrs; PM 1.5 hrs. Meals: $6. Rent: $2." "At $3 an hour, you immigrants each make $10.50 a day." He subtracts the $8 for meals and rent, writes $2.50 on the newsprint, and circles it. "You're being compensated more than adequately. In fact, you should be able to put away some."

"But what about renting blankets? And sheets? And buying toothpaste from the store?" Kaye explodes. "At least we want you to include the basics -- food, shelter, bedding -- as an employment benefit in New Hope. And we want you to wash our clothes."

"Where am I going to find a dishwasher?" Fred replies.

"You mean a washing machine!" Kaye says, disgusted. "You really are an elite."

Later that day, the elites try to fragment the bottoms by leaving stray $10 bills around. The immigrants, savvy to their game, pool their new funds, and hang back during the evening learning session, salivating at the thought of buying extra bags of chips with their new money.

But by Monday evening, people's true selves start emerging. Come dinner time, immigrant Lou, who, by his own admission, has come to Power Camp to learn how to play it cool, has accepted the positions of reporter, bartender, team manager, and store clerk -- four out of New Hope's five part-time jobs. After dinner, middle Katherine -- who came to Power Camp to improve social and political skills -- races into the pub, crying. She can't find servers for the dining hall; the elites are breathing down her neck; she feels overwhelmed, just like always.

Up at the Manor, Caitlin and company are confronting the fact that their underwear theory -- for them to retain power, everybody else had to lose it -- is a bust. Little work is getting done at New Hope. Few people are happy. The elites commence a second society-building session. This time their goal is to frame their vision in a less personal, less graphic way.

By 12:30 AM, John is fed up. "This is too crazy," he says. "I need a break." He fires up his Jeep to go buy Cheerios, milk, juice, and cinnamon rolls at the local convenience mart for tomorrow's breakfast. But a mile and a half from the Craigville Conference Center, a cop pulls him over. His lights aren't on; his eyes are glazed. John almost gets arrested for DWI.

TOOT III
Over the years Oshry has not only created a model of organizational life, he has also deduced some natural laws governing organizational life. The Zeroeth Law of Organizational Life underlies all others: system craziness multiplies personal craziness. It goes like this: Tops feel responsible for everything, which causes them to suck problems up, which in turn makes them feel even more overloaded with responsibility than before. Bottoms feel disregarded, which in turn makes them blame the amorphous "them" for their situation. Middles feel crunched between the ends, which in turn causes them to slide in between and get torn up even more.