There was an excellent column, again by Lucy Kellaway, in the FT this morning, Raunch culture is raising the temperature in the workplace.

“Successful women used to dress up as ersatz men. Those days are gone and some choose to show ample cleavage in the office. However, the new dress code is not clear,” writes Lucy Kellaway.

Long story short, where does professionalism in the workplace begin and end? When it comes to wardrobe, what is edgy, what is sexy, what is couture, and what is tacky, and what is the empowering breaking of old stereotypes of professional businesswomen as “dressing like men.”?

To Ms, Kellaway,

“replacing [the old stereotype] with the new one of woman as tacky footballer’s wife is no improvement.”

What do you, my gentle readers, think?

It has almost been a year since I wrote Don’t Save the Whales. I just want to remind my gentle readers that the following essay could as easily be called Don’t Save the Manatees, Don’t Save the Children, Don’t Save the Tigers, Don’t Save the Dolphins, Don’t Save the Bay, Don’t Save the World, Don’t Save the Koala, Don’t Save the Pandas, Don’t Save the Rhinos, Don’t Save the Chimps, Don’t Save the Gorillas, or Don’t Save the Elephant.

What Don’t Save the Whales absolutely doesn’t say or even imply, for those of you dull knives, is Kill the Manatees, Kill the Children, Kill the Tigers, Kill the Dolphins, Kill the Bay, Kill the World, Kill the Koala, Kill the Pandas, Kill the Rhinos, Kill the Elephant or Kill the Whales.

Okay, got it?

Don’t Save the Whales

There is no cause so noble that you should sacrifice your children to its altar. Shame on you.

After 15-years in DC, I have noticed that those noble activists who are saving the world have yet to save themselves, their marriages, their families, and their children.

The children of many of the founders of these organizations are a mess, with boys and girls as scared and abandoned as the children of their more celebrated Hollywood celebrities and New York robber barons. They are cared for by nannies and oftentimes never see their parents for weeks at a time.

All because one or more of their parents are making sacrifices for a higher, nobler cause: saving the whales. Or some similar cause celebre.

The illusion of nobility associated with saving pagan babies, the rain forest, the whales, or the trees is pure distraction from the things that matter most in this life which is saving yourself, protecting and loving your children, your spouse, your parents, your family, and your community.

If you have all of your ducks in a row, if your children are happy and well-adjusted, if your health is good and you get enough sleep and exercise, if you still chase your spouse around the bed pretty regularly, and you call your mother, with energy to spare for yourself, then you have the right to save the whales.

Otherwise, you are chasing phantoms, you are wasting your time, and you had better still yourself enough to remember why you got married, why you had children, and whether the whales really matter to you any more or if you’re just used to saving the whales.

Otherwise, let the whales fend for themselves for a little while while you get yourself together.

If you disrespect your own family enough to abandon them for your noble cause then the whales are better off without you. Resign from your save the whales campaign immediately, move to New York, and settle in to a life on Wall Street.

If you’re going to be ignoble, you might as well do it for money. The entire order cetacea recognize hypocrisy when they see it and they don’t want any of your filthy lucre anyway.

(Special Thanks to Paul Roberts of P.R.A.D.E. (Paul Roberts Amateur Design Enthusiast The blog for the untrained but discriminating design eye) — the Photoshop God — who hooked me up with the Don’t Save the Whales graphic)