Cheaters never prosper, the saying goes, and you have to
wonder how some people think they can get away with their shady
shenanigans. Other times, you get to watch as a
cheater gets served.
The boss came through my door one day with a request: "The new guy is
kind of stuck, so could you help him with the database? He isn't making
progress fast enough. Get to it ASAP, and let me know how it goes."
My first thought: "Can't someone else do it?" But I was the resident expert on the database, so no surprise I was tapped.
I opened my mouth to ask questions, and the boss immediately
took a stack of papers from behind his back and dropped them on my
desk: project plan, contract, timeline, everything I might ask for. I
thanked the boss, and he walked out.
Quite the CV
The new guy, "Egor," had a dazzling resume: a doctorate in physics,
along with a Masters in engineering, and three years of work in the
field. He came to us in January, and it was now early March. The project
was due out in June.
Egor was the subject matter expert. His task on this type of contract
would be to either write a simulation that generated data or transform
data sets provided by our client into something our AI software could
digest. In the materials, I saw that we had the data in-house, but in
some weird format I had never heard of. I figured that Egor had never
heard of it, either, and that's why he was stuck.
I went to see him. He spoke Russian better than English. He knew little of
SQL
and nothing of ETL (Extract, Transform, Load) methods. Although he
might've been an expert in his specialty, I couldn't tell. He said he
had some training in Fortran, as I expected of anyone with his
credentials, so I set him up with a Fortran compiler.
I looked at a sample of the data with a hex editor and wrote a guide
to how to read it into standard flat files. From there, I could import
the data into our database. It would be up to him to interpret the data,
convert units of measure, convert time values, and develop key values.
Egor seemed enthused and I heard nothing from him for a couple of days.
Early suspicions
Come Monday he was in my office, having made no progress. He seemed
to understand what was in the data but was unable to write a Fortran
program -- how embarrassing.
Our other staffer with a doctorate in physics, "Russ," was fluent in
Fortran but very busy on another contract. The boss did not want him
distracted, but I got permission to have Russ look at the data and what
little code Egor had written. Russ likened the effort to the work of a
novice programmer and whispered questions about what was going on. I
told him I didn't know but would soon find out.
Using a copy of the data, I wrote a Visual Basic program to transform
the data into flat files. I made a way to input conversion parameters
on the screen. The output files could be pulled up in Excel. Once Egor
had determined the correct conversion parameters, we could convert the
data, if I spent another few hours on the VB program.
A week later, we had the data. At this point, I stepped out and
another team member stepped in to help him. "Charlie" managed all of the
transformation code for us. He did the heavy lifting on statistical
processing.
Closing in on the con
A few days later, Charlie came to see me about Egor.
He had questions: What was my impression of Egor? What had I done for him?
We compared notes. Egor couldn't program in Fortran, didn't
understand file structures, and had never worked with statistical
transformations. He had no experience with Microsoft Access and very
little with Excel. His resume and CV claimed skills in Office.
Apparently, Egor had a plan: Get other employees to do the work, while he took the credit.
But at our company, that wasn't possible. Egor had to actually know
what he was doing -- at least as an expert on the subject matter of the
study for our client -- and he had to make the presentation to the
client in June.
Charlie and I went to the boss. We explained our concerns while
trying to remain open-minded. But the boss had suspicions of his own and
that week had called a couple of Egor's references. He cursed, saying
he should have done that before, but
trusted too much and checked too little. It was too late now, though.
The boss already knew what he wanted to do.
Good-bye and good riddance
In late May, the programming work was as done as it was going to be.
Egor was writing the report, but whining every day about every
imaginable hindrance. Now his complaints were about shortcomings of
Microsoft Office.
Egor began complaining of mistreatment. Slights, real and imagined,
became the topic of gossip and time-wasting interviews with management.
The boss moved him to a desk in a hall, away from everyone else.
Employees were instructed not to speak with him except on necessity. The
office scuttlebutt was that Egor would be fired after the presentation
in June.
The boss took over writing the presentation -- but didn't
tell Egor. He simply gathered what he could and, using input from other
members of the team, put a report together. Egor's version would be
unacceptable to the client, the boss said, so it had to be done this
way. I contributed the charts and graphs. Team members were instructed
to humor him, but waste no more time on him.
In June, the boss drove to the client, with Egor in the
passenger seat. It took three hours, lunch, the presentation, then a
long drive back.
After they left the building, our systems administrator took
Egor's computer. Then the office manager collected all his pens and
pencils and boxed up his personal items. His chair went to a member of
our programming staff. His empty desk was removed from the hall and put
in storage. The boss had ordered him erased, as it were, from the
company. No evidence remained that he had ever been there.
The boss arrived at the office that afternoon, alone. He had taken Egor to his apartment and told him never to come back.
A month later, Egor was on the phone with me, asking that I
act as a reference for him. Charlie came into my office later that day
to say that he, too, had heard from Egor. We soon learned that we should
not feel special, as Egor had called everyone in the company he had so
much as spoken with and made the same request -- except the boss. I
think he knew better than to try that channel.
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