【英语生活】我为FT工作25年

One spring morning, 25 years ago this week, I presented myself for work for the first time at the Financial Times wearing a brand new, orange corduroy skirt and feeling sick with nerves.

Today, as on most other mornings in the past quarter of a century, I will present myself again for work, though these days I no longer wear orange corduroy and no longer feel especially nervous. As on other mornings, I will take my place at my desk from which I report on the modern world of work, where no job is for life, all skills are portable and loyalty refers to a plastic card that you produce at the till at Tesco. In other words, it's a world in which I've become an anachronism.

Last week I had lunch with an acquaintance and by way of making conversation, I said I was about to celebrate 25 years at the newspaper. "Twenty-five years," he repeated, his face contorting with horror. "I would keep that quiet if I were you."

I crept away after the lunch wondering whether he was right. Was the fact of having plodded on interminably with a single employer something to hush up, or something to shout from the rooftops?

In almost every other relationship the answer is obvious: stability and longevity are something to celebrate. I've held on to the same friends I had at primary school - which I'm pleased about - and to the same husband I married 20 years ago - which I'm even more pleased about.

But 25 years with the same employer is rather different. There are no children involved, there is no value to the bond per se; to feel any loyalty to an employer who could fire you at any moment is soft in the head. Staying put shows an aversion to risk and either a lack of imagination or a lack of opportunity. At a time when we are supposed to value flexibility and change above all other things, careers like mine are a disgrace.

But then I started to think about my contemporaries and my spirits began to lift. Of my 10 closest friends, four have had the same sort of career as I've had: they flitted about promiscuously after university before settling down into a stable relationship with a single employer. One has done 27 years, and the others 22, 21 and 20 years respectively. At least in the circles I move in, it seems I'm not a weirdo at all.

Last week I convened a hasty focus group to discuss the pros and cons of being a professional stick in the mud. We agreed we were lacking in imagination and generally risk averse. But we also agreed that none of us had ever planned to stay put for so long. It had just happened - because, mainly, we enjoyed what we were doing and never found anything else more tempting.

And then one of my friends said she felt loyal to the values of the company and that they fitted her. I cringed, as I hate talk of company values. But although I wouldn't have put it like that, I realised she was right. I have stayed because I fit.

Grudgingly, we all confessed to feelings of loyalty, however unfashionable that might be. We feel loyal to the people we work with, but also have some fondness for the company in the abstract, too. If anyone ever assumes I work for The Times, I correct them snappily: Financial Times, I say.

We also agreed that the years had not passed in a monotonous blur. All of us had done different jobs within our companies, but more importantly, our industries have changed a great deal in two decades. At the FT, my first long feature was about an ailing British manufacturer of agricultural equipment. That company no longer exists. The typewriter I wrote it on doesn't exist either. And most of the people who I worked with back then, though they still do exist, are no longer on this newspaper. This mixture of variety and stability has been most agreeable.

And if these arguments about the joys of long service fail to convince, there is one more. I've received a letter congratulating me on my silver jubilee, which was quite nice, and a gift of ￡1,000, which was nicer still. The problem now is what to spend it on. I would like to do something symbolic with it, and first considered a smart new laptop. But then do I want to do even more work at home? What about Botox, to disguise the wrinkles gained? But then, as I've just claimed to be proud of the passing of time, it doesn't seem right to start waging war with it. Perhaps I'll spend it on a couture suit of orange corduroy which, after 25 years in the fashion wilderness, is surely due for a comeback.

25年前4月的这一周，一个春天的早晨，我穿着崭新的橙黄色灯心绒裙子，第一天到英国《金融时报》上班，整个人紧张兮兮的。

今天，与过去四分之一世纪里的大多数早晨一样，我又要去上班了，虽然如今我已不再穿橙黄色灯心绒衣服，也不会觉得特别紧张了。与其它早晨一样，我将坐在我的位置上，写写有关现代职场的报道。在当今职场上，没有什么工作是终身的，所有技能都能随身带，而你只忠于在特易购(Tesco)收款台前亮出的那张塑料卡片。换句话说，在这个世界，我已经成了老古董。

上周和一位熟人共进午餐时，我没话找话地说，我就要庆祝在英国《金融时报》呆满25年了。“25年！”他重复道，脸吓得都扭曲了。“我要是你，就不会张扬。”

饭后我悄悄离开了，心想他说的对不对呢。对于长期在同一家公司埋头苦干这样的事，是该守口如瓶，还是该站在屋顶上大声宣告？

在几乎所有其它关系中，答案不言自明：稳定和恒久是值得庆贺的。我上小学时交的朋友，到现在依然是我的挚友，对此我很满意。我现在的老公还是20年前与我结婚的那个人，对此我更加满意。

但在同一家公司干25年就不一样了。这里面不涉及孩子，这段关系本身不具有价值；忠于随时会解雇你的公司是头脑被驴踢了。长期呆在一家公司，说明你不爱冒险，不是缺乏想象力，就是欠缺机遇。现代人把灵活与变通看得比什么都重要，所以像我这样的职业生涯是可耻的。

然而，想想我的同龄人，我又打起了精神。在我的十个密友中，有四个与我有着相仿的职业生涯。他们大学毕业后也曾经到处换工作，但后来都各自在一家公司里安定了下来。其中有一位干了27年，另外三位分别干了22年、21年和20年。至少，在我所处的圈子里，我一点都不古怪。

上周我匆忙召开一个小组座谈会，讨论身为专业人士固守一份工作的优缺点。我们一致认为，自己缺乏想象力，基本上都不爱冒险。但我们也一致认为，我们谁都没有计划过要在一个地方呆这么久。这是顺其自然的结果。主要原因是我们喜欢自己的工作，也从来没有发现还有什么更诱人的工作。

接着，我的一位朋友说，她忠于公司的价值观，这些价值观也适合她。这话让我觉得厌烦，因为我讨厌说什么公司价值观。不过，虽然我口头上不会这么说，但我心里知道她说得对。我一直呆在这里，就因为我适合这里。

我们都不甚情愿地承认自己怀有忠诚感，尽管这个词现在可能不流行了。我们对一起共事的人怀有忠诚感，对公司也有一定程度的喜欢。如果有人以为我在《泰晤士报》(Times)工作，我会断然纠正：是《金融时报》(Financial Times)。

我们也一致认为，这些年我们并没有过得稀里糊涂，也没有一成不变。我们都在各自公司里干过不同的工作。更重要的是，我们所处的行业这二十年来变化都很大。在《金融时报》，我写的第一则长篇专题报道，主题是英国一家陷入困境的农业器械制造商。这家公司已经不存在了，我写那篇报道时使用的打字机也不存在了。当年的同事虽说大多依然健在，但很多都已经不在我们报社工作了。稳中有变，是最让人感到愉悦的。

上文阐述了在一家公司长干的乐趣，如果这些还不足以让人信服的话，那么还有一点。我收到了一封祝贺我工作满25周年的信函，让人感觉很不错。另外还有1000英镑作为礼物，这就更棒了。现在的问题是这笔钱怎么花。我想用它做点有象征意义的事情。我先是想买一台时尚的新笔记本电脑，可是难道我希望在家再多干些活吗？去打肉毒杆菌素(Botox)怎么样，用它来掩盖脸上渐增的皱纹？可是，既然我刚刚宣称要以逝去的时光为荣，现在又开始要与之为战似乎不太合适。也许我会用这笔钱买一身橙黄色的灯心绒套装。尽管退出流行已有25年，想必它们总会有复出的那一天的。

译者/杨远