I spent an entire day in bed recently, flattened by some stomach bug that hit both me and my husband. We bounced back quickly, but then he had to travel for work, leaving me solo with our four-year-old and two-year-old. Whatever scraps of energy I have in the morning are drained within the first hour of trying to get them dressed and fed.
Enter: the work idiot.
This is the person who woke up brimming with energy—and decided to channel it into making everyone else’s life miserable. Picture someone who likely enjoyed a peaceful morning, complete with a skincare routine and coffee in silence, only to show up at work ready to unleash their toxicity on their colleagues.
There are many flavors of work idiot, but my least favorite is the one who combines a heavy dose of Dunning-Kruger with zero emotional intelligence. Think: a proud, dumb bot. The kind of person you’d gladly trade for a competent AI—at least AI doesn’t complain (yet).
As a former Customer Support rep turned Product Manager, I’m no stranger to pushback. Engineers, for example, love to critique: too much detail in requirements, not enough detail—it’s a never-ending dance. But the work idiot? They take it to the next level. This is the person who insists on edge case scenarios so absurd, you’re left debating the button padding’s behavior during a nuclear apocalypse (still improbable? Not sure). Or worse, they demand negative scenarios—detailing everything the button isn’t supposed to do. Like, no, the button should not trigger the nuclear bomb, padding be damned.
Their problem isn’t just a fear of ambiguity—it’s a complete inability to handle it. They lack the common sense and sliver of creativity needed for solving even trivial problems. They trust no one. Their strategy? Demand exhaustive detail from everyone else so that their personal contributions are minimal, reducing their risk of failure to nearly zero. It’s annoyingly clever for an idiot.
These people ask for feedback but don’t actually want it. Why? Because they’re the self-proclaimed greatest in the universe, and any critique must mean you’re doing your job wrong.
Unfortunately, you can’t avoid them. They’re like a giant, immovable bull parked in the middle of your road to progress. Your only option is resilience. Channel their dumbness into something productive. Ask yourself, What would a bad AI do if I prompted it like this? That’ll give you a glimpse into their predictable nonsense. Prepare accordingly. Finish your work. Then go for a run with some girl-power playlist blasting in your ears.