Schadenfreude in the workplace

By Herman M. Lagon

There is a German word that sounds heavier than it looks: schadenfreude. It means taking quiet pleasure in someone else’s misfortune. It is usually used to describe a classmate smirking when his rival slips on stage. But it also lives in more ordinary places — like a cramped registrar’s office on enrollment week, a procurement counter where a faculty member stands holding a folder of receipts, or a cashier’s window where a mother from a far barangay waits for reimbursement that will cover her transportation home. Schadenfreude is not always laughter. Sometimes it is a shrug. Sometimes it is a slow signature. Sometimes it is the sentence, “Balik na lang po next week,” delivered without looking up.

Most of us have felt it. The feeling of being processed rather than served. Years ago, I once waited nearly three months for a reimbursement that did not even reach PHP 1,000. I submitted the usual: tickets, certificate of participation, program, photos at the venue. When I followed up, I was told another requirement was needed. A boarding pass. I explained that the airline had moved to digital passes. A printed screenshot was not sufficient. They wanted the physical stub. I asked if a photo of me on the plane, a video, a certificate or even the event photos would suffice. The answer was no. Meanwhile, news reports remind us how millions in “confidential funds” can be disbursed, even plundered, with fewer public questions. It is difficult not to notice the contrast. It is more difficult to ignore the quiet humiliation that comes from pleading for documents to move.

This is not to villainize staff in procurement, accounting, human resources or the registrar’s office. Many are overworked, bound by audit rules and pressured by compliance mandates such as Republic Act 9184 for procurement and the Commission on Audit’s strict documentation requirements. State universities and colleges often still operate on paper-based systems, with aging enterprise resource platforms that freeze at 4:45 in the afternoon. Studies presented at the Industrial Engineering and Operations Management Society have documented how manual systems, long approval chains and failed bidding processes delay research equipment and inflate administrative costs (Mncwango & Ramdass, 2023). The bottleneck is real. Yet so is the human cost — the frustration, discontent, disappointment and waste of time and resources — when the system’s rigidity spills over into indifference.

The Anti-Red Tape Authority (ARTA), under RA 11032, was meant to make government transactions less punishing. It requires citizens charters, sets standard timelines (three, seven or 20 days), caps signatories and promotes a zero-contact policy to reduce bribery opportunities. In theory, it is the kind of rulebook citizens wish existed earlier. In practice, it has not always delivered. COA reported that ARTA itself averaged 124 days just to complete the opening steps in complaint handling (COA, 2023). That is a reminder: a law can tighten rules, but real change takes follow-through. The principle remains clear — service should not feel like endurance.

What tends to be forgotten is facilitation. Not just speed. Not just compliance. Facilitation. It is proactive follow-up, even when the client has not come back yet. It is calling the next office to clarify a signature issue, instead of sending someone on a campus-wide scavenger hunt. It is translating procedures into plain, respectful language. A global study involving 6,000 managers discovered a correlation between empathy and enhanced performance (CCL, 2020). But empathy is not automatic. Understanding others and feeling with them can fade under stress. That is why it needs solid systems, targeted training, a sense of ownership and accountability to last.

For decades, reform talk has centered on the three Es: economy, efficiency and effectiveness. Scholars have argued that equity, ethics and accountability deserve equal weight, especially in public service where the poorest often pay the highest “waiting tax” (Brillantes & Ruiz, 2022). Equity matters because not all clients are the same. A businessman with connections can call someone “inside.” A vendor from a distant town cannot. When offices move fast for those at the top and crawl for those at the bottom, resentment grows. It is not always malicious. Sometimes it is unconscious bias. We respond faster to people we recognize. We empathize more easily with those who resemble us. That is human. But institutions must be better than instinct.

I once heard a parent explain why they stayed in the school where I taught before despite higher tuition. “The teachers are relatively fair,” she said. “Card day is swift and systematic.” There was no drama in her voice, just relief. Fairness builds loyalty more effectively than marketing. In private corporations, customer retention studies show that frictionless processes correlate with long-term trust (PricewaterhouseCoopers, 2018). In public offices, the stakes are higher. The client is not merely a customer. Often, they are a citizen exercising a right.

There are, of course, practical constraints. Procurement in government must pass through bids and awards committees. Failed biddings happen when only one supplier participates. Inventory gaps in supply and property management offices complicate asset registration. Accounting staff must ensure that liquidation aligns with COA rules. Yet none of these require apathy. Facilitation does not mean bending rules. It means guiding people through them. It means recognizing that a faculty member busy in class while waiting for research equipment is not an inconvenience but a partner in the university’s mission.

There is a tendency for offices to behave like islands. The registrar processes enrollment. Procurement handles purchase orders. Accounting records transactions. Human resources files contracts. Each sees its own mandate. Rarely does anyone ask how delays in one unit ripple through the rest. When research equipment arrives late, students miss laboratory exposure. When contracts are processed slowly, instructors lose income. When reimbursements stall, programs and projects hesitate. The organization suffers, quietly. The metaphor of building a cathedral applies here. Some see only their brick. Others see the purpose of the arch. Facilitation is what transforms routine work into shared purpose. It is the difference between piling bricks and raising a space where people feel protected.

Empathy is sometimes labeled a “soft” trait, but studies disagree. Managers perceived as empathetic were also judged more effective (Center for Creative Leadership, 2020). In contrast, excessive procedural burden has been shown to reduce morale, increase stress and impair organizational performance (Moynihan, Herd & Harvey, 2015). A cold system drains motivation. Yet unchecked empathy can create uneven treatment. What organizations need is steady structure with steady humanity. Clear timelines, digital tracking systems and transparent documentation protect both staff and clients. Within that framework, courtesy and initiative cost nothing.

Teachers know this tension well. They line up for procurement requests, then teach full loads, then mentor students. They submit liquidation reports for modest travel allowances while reading headlines about grand corruption. It is easy to grow cynical. But cynicism rarely reforms institutions. Small, consistent acts of facilitation do. The staff member who texts a colleague that a document is ready. The HR officer who explains why a requirement exists instead of dismissing a question. The cashier who acknowledges the inconvenience of delay. These gestures restore dignity without violating policy.

The irony of schadenfreude in offices is that it diminishes the very people who wield it. Power trips are brief. Reputations endure. In a university context, every office is part of the learning environment. Students observe how adults treat one another. They learn whether systems are navigable only through palakasan or through fairness. They internalize whether service is transactional or relational. When institutions align efficiency with empathy, they model something larger than compliance. They model citizenship.

No law can manufacture conscience. ARTA provides a framework. Procurement manuals provide procedures. Audit rules provide guardrails. But the value of facilitation rests in daily choices. In the decision to treat a folder not as a burden but as someone’s project, salary or hope. In the recognition that the person across the counter may have traveled hours to get there. In the understanding that speed for one and slowness for another corrodes trust.

Schadenfreude may begin as a smirk. It can end as institutional decay. The alternative is quieter and less dramatic. It is a culture where offices see themselves as builders of a common structure, not gatekeepers of isolated rooms. Where staff follow up without being chased. Where empathy is informed by structure, and structure is softened by empathy. Where processing is not about asserting power but about moving work forward with dignity. In the end, the worth of an institution is measured not only by its vision statements or rankings but by how its smallest offices treat its most ordinary transactions. Papers move. People remember.

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Doc H fondly describes himself as a “student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.