Navigating the work Christmas party
It's the most wonderful career landmine of the year
Are you dreading the work Christmas do this year? I’m not, but that’s because it’s a sit-down meal with about eight of us, after which we will probably all go our separate ways before it gets too silly.
My relationship with work parties has been a rollercoaster over the years. When I first started work it was basically an excuse to get good and drunk on work time and (if you were lucky) at the boss’s expense. It was fully expected that you would not hold back on the drink (in fact it was very much frowned upon to avoid a drink at any point, with inevitable consequences).
But as everyone was doing the same, it didn’t matter too much. Sober people were not to be trusted and if you were seen dodging a drink then the opprobrium would last well into the new year.
At one corporate do in the mid-90s I discovered the miracle of the beer scooter, which is the means by which you manage to find your way home no matter what kind of state you left the party in, nor how far away it was. I managed to stagger through most of East London, an area I didn’t know at all, finding myself seemingly by chance outside my flat an hour later.
I worked in London for a few years after that and enjoyed some much more civilised work dos, which were centred around a nice meal rather than getting plastered.
After a couple of promotions, I found that the Christmas party as management was a different game – going on an all-dayer where I was the most senior person there had a different dynamic, with a tricky balance of expectations. I should get my hand in my pocket, I should drink along with everyone else, I should show my real self but I should also know exactly when to stop and not make a fool of myself.
And after a certain point in the evening, it appeared, people would decide they had drunk enough to tell me what they really thought. This was as likely to be gushing praise or flirting as chest-poking and advice, but it was always awkward, and doubly so the first time you encountered that person back under the cold, bright lights of the office.
If you’ve been saving up your truths for your management, ready to dispense your wisdom after a bottle of wine, just don’t. If it’s worth saying, do it in the office, sober and clear, and understand what you’re hoping to get out of it. Otherwise you’re just going to make a fool of yourself.
And if it’s something that you wouldn’t dream of saying in the office, then do you really need to say it at all?
I’ve always very much liked the walk home afterwards though – some music in my ears, hopefully just the right level of drunk, feeling festive and thoroughly benevolent. And that’s the aim now for any official party – have a drink, socialise, but stop exactly one drink earlier than I think I should and focus primarily on talking to as many people as possible so there’s a practical benefit from the evening.
I’ve managed to not attend the last half a dozen Christmas parties – Covid took care of it for a couple of years, and the culture since then seems to have changed: the rise in hybrid working, in people drinking less or not at all and the merciful improvement in inclusion have all meant it’s just not acceptable to compel anyone to do anything socially, and the stigma of not drinking seems to have largely disappeared.
If people want to just not go, that’s now fine (which would have been a black mark as little as seven or eight years ago). And more often now there will be a couple of different ways to celebrate, with the ‘bring & share lunch’ a common office fixture now in case you’re unable or unwilling to go out for a full afternoon or evening of revelry. Basically, a big picnic, in office, where everyone contributes and everyone can be on a equal footing.
It’s nice to celebrate the year’s achievements with your team and colleagues. But there are far more effective ways of saying ‘thank you’ than all going down the pub at the end of the year, and frankly, if that’s the first time this year you’ve shown your appreciation and gratitude then you’ve not been doing your job.
Treat people right all year round and they won’t mind at all if you’re not there for the turkey and wine on a random Friday in December.
But if you are going along, here’s my advice, drawing on at least 25 years’ worth of work Christmas parties and meals, on how to enjoy the evening without paying the price well into the new year:
Build some bridges. Talk to someone you don’t usually get on with and see if you can make some progress by being in a different environment. Of course, they may have been saving up all the things they wanted to tell you for this very moment, but they’ll be the one embarrassed on Monday, not you.
Expand your network – if this is something you don’t do naturally, take the opportunity and set yourself a target of talking to three, or five people that you don’t know at all. Either join a group that has someone you know there already, or just cold introduce yourself (there’s no better time than when everyone’s had a couple).
Say ’thank you’ to someone that would appreciate it. Again, you should have been doing that all year long, but if there’s someone you can compliment for a recent achievement, do it.
Oh, and don’t get so drunk you make an arse of yourself. When you’re at the point when you’re thinking ‘I’ll make this my last one’, stop already. That drink hasn’t landed yet and you’re probably at just the right level.
Have fun, be safe, and whatever you do, do it in your way and on your terms.