HRpedia: 'Prairie dogging'
You know when you stick your head out of your cubicle to see what's going on? That's you, that isPrairie Dogging, v.
So you’re happily ensconced at your desk, finishing that analysis thing for what’s-her-face, in between reading about drug-addled celebs on Buzzfeed and looking at the Daily Mail’s sidebar of shame. When all of a sudden – crash!
You pop your head over the pod to see what’s going on. Ah, Graham’s knocked the water cooler over. Typical. You pop back down again.
Back to work for a moment, and then – blub!
You pop your head over the pod again, this time to see Anna bursting into cascades of tears. She’s just opened an email for her boyfriend to find he’s dumped her for that leggy brunette in Sales. You pop back down again. Wise not to get involved – Anna’s got a hell of a temper.
Back to work. But then – a scream!
You pop your head over the pod to see Jules lying on the floor by the printer, her left leg squashed pancake-flat by a bookcase that was accidentally pushed over by Graham trying to right the water-cooler.
Again, you pop your head back down again. Best to leave her to it. After all, you’re not the appointed First Aider on this floor, so why should you give a monkey’s?
So: the behaviour you’re exhibiting here is called ‘prairie dogging’. One online source defines it as ‘in an open-plan office, the practice of looking over the top of one’s partition in order to discover the source of or reason for a commotion.’
One assumes the ‘bobbing’ act resembles that of a certain North American burrowing rodent.
Whilst nobody has ever done so, it’s conceivable that instances of prairie dogging might one day be recorded and turned into statistics that measure employee engagement. (The more the employees prairie dog, the less they’re interested in the work on their screens.)
Used in practice:
‘Tom! You’d better look. The CEO’s just walked in, and she’s had her hair done like Bernie Ecclestone.’
‘Oh sit down, Lou. With all this prairie dogging, you’re up and down more often than a kangaroo in the mating season. Get back to work. That sidebar of shame won’t read itself, you know.’