For twenty-five years Dan Lyons was a magazine writer at the top of his profession–until one Friday morning when he received a phone call: Poof. His job no longer existed. « I think they just want to hire younger people, » his boss at Newsweek told him. Fifty years old and with a wife and two young kids, Dan was, in a word, screwed. Then an idea hit. Dan had long reported on Silicon Valley and the tech explosion. Why not join it? HubSpot, a Boston start-up, was flush with $100 million in venture capital. They offered Dan a pile of stock options for the vague role of « marketing fellow. » What could go wrong?
HubSpotters were true believers: They were making the world a better place … by selling email spam. The office vibe was frat house meets cult compound: The party began at four thirty on Friday and lasted well into the night; « shower pods » became hook-up dens; a push-up club met at noon in the lobby, while nearby, in the « content factory, » Nerf gun fights raged. Groups went on « walking meetings, » and Dan’s absentee boss sent cryptic emails about employees who had « graduated » (read: been fired). In the middle of all this was Dan, exactly twice the age of the average HubSpot employee, and literally old enough to be the father of most of his co-workers, sitting at his desk on his bouncy-ball « chair. »
The book started alright, surprisingly. It’s the story of this really whiny and self-entitled guy who starts working in a tech company and complains about everything that happens, and some parts of it are pretty relatable (yes, I do work at HubSpot, yes, I’m 22 and right out of college, and yes, there are some things that did make me laugh in his description, because yes, some parts of our culture code are, indeed, preposterous).
Then, somewhere along the middle, it just became 100% whining and no more making fun of the culture code and the colleagues. Just complaining and explaining that the guy deserved sooooooo much better – and didn’t get anything better because, apparently, well, other people didn’t think that he deserved anything more than what he had. Real heartbreaker.
All in all, if you want a funny overview of everything ridiculous at HubSpot, ask any HubSpot employee. I’ll tell you everything about the free beer, the Halloween party and the dogs, and I won’t whine so much about how amazing I am and how my bosses – sorry, team leader – don’t see my real value.