Is there an echo in here?

I was in a meeting today at the large government organization: a gathering of the organizational research police, enforcers of the rules, regs & regime. I'm not sure why they insist on making me a part of this corps, because they obviously aren't interested in what I have to say. In fact, today we had a lovely round of one of my favorite games: "Is there an echo in here?"

When the "real" doctors (hint: When you see that word real in quotes, you will know I'm talking about physicians, probably male ones. Just thought I'd point that out so the subtle wit wouldn't go unnoticed) get together to talk about rules, regs & the regime, they listen raptly to one another. One of them speaks and the others turn, look him in the face, and listen with rapt attention. If they actually agree with what he's saying, they nod sagely and look about at one another to make sure everyone's getting the full import of the monologue. They take turns, each getting to talk every bit as long as he wants before the next one picks up the thread and carries it a couple of nanometers along. It really is a wonderment of interpersonal choreography, the way these guys revere and respect one another during a discussion.

When one of us real doctors (note clever absence of quotes) speaks up, things go a bit differently. The guys suddenly discover something on their notepads they have to reread, or a fly on the ceiling. They fidget and shift uneasily in their seats, and murmur to one another even though you're not yet through the first full sentence. If they actually let you finish your thought, they all kind of look uncomfortable and don't say anything for a minute and then someone says "Yes, well..." and says something totally unrelated to what you just said.

But what comes next is what's really strange. Nine times out of ten, after "Yes, well..." has spoken his unrelated piece, another "real" doctor speaks up and says exactly what you've already just said. Maybe not in the exact same words, but the thought's the same and if you made a recommendation it is laid out there as if it were not only his own, but the most insightful thing on earth to boot. And then they all agree with him and tell him what a great idea it is. It's as if you are in a parallel universe and they can't quite perceive that you are actually there, but what you are saying gets through somehow and all they can figure is that it was their own, original thought.

This would be far less astounding if it didn't happen ALL THE TIME. I used to think it was just me, maybe I really was so inarticulate that they just couldn't understand what I was trying to say but it got through subliminally or something. But today, I discovered that it isn't just me: they do it to all the female PhDs.

We, the chosen few who were allowed to sit in on the meeting as if we actually belonged there, enjoyed not being the only one. We sat around the table giving each other this subtle "Omigod, do you believe they are doing this?" look, but not too long at a time or we'd all have burst out laughing uncontrollably and how would we explain that? So we smirked demurely at one another and listened quietly as the "real" doctors claimed as their very own every single idea we'd just offered up and had rejected by the great god "Yes, well..." Without a word, we shared the same thought: "Is there an echo in here???"

Oh well. I'm sort of glad to know it's not just me. There is strength in sisterhood, I guess. And now we know the truth. Behind every successful "real" doctor, there is a real doctor feeding him his lines.