I spent several decades working with animals. My workplace was a combination safari park and Noah’s ark. I discovered that, if you want to truly understand your colleagues, you need to interpret their animal natures, the spirit beasts that define their personalities and guide their actions.

Here are some of my observations.

Take your CEO, for example. His animal counterpart may be a pachyderm, most likely an elephant. In the corporate world, the scientific name is Trample alloverus. He is thick-skinned and short-sighted. He displays initiative over thought and if he smells trouble, he’ll charge. Step aside or risk being stomped. He has tusks and he’s not afraid to use them. Get in the way and you may experience an ivory enema.

Your sales VP likely channels the traits of a hawk – scientific name Swoopdown andsnatchus. Intense, high strung, inclined to divebomb prey. Your customers may be stunned by the speed with which she crash-dives to grasp a sale. She has the tools to seize opportunity – those talons are seriously sharp. A hawk will also dine on carrion, so if you’re part of the sales force, keep moving.

The chief of engineering resembles a beaver. He’s a builder by nature – he never really outgrew his Erector Set. The Lego toys in his office are a clue. Things don’t always move quickly in his world – he’s content to pursue his projects over the course of seasons. The scientific name is River bedammedup.

The head of the legal department is – what else – a snake. Scientific name Forktongue hissatus. Cold-blooded, coiled and lurking, ready to strike. Some kill with venom, employing fangs that stay hidden until they are ready to strike. Others prefer constriction – they slowly squeeze the life out of…everything.

The HR guy is a teddy bear – soft, fuzzy, a little threadbare, perhaps missing a button eye. Prone to hugging. Don’t expect much in the way of action, but do expect inconsistency in how he handles crises. After all, his guts are artificial fibers made from a petroleum derivative. The scientific name is Ursa viceversa.

The head of marketing is a peacock – flamboyant, showy, given to expansive display. Be prepared for strutting and squawking. You can’t stuff a pillow, fill a jacket or use his feathers to fletch an arrow. They do make fancy decorations for ball gowns, however. Overt narcissists are sometimes referred to as peacocks. In the business world, the scientific name is Lookatme lookatme.

Most of us will never take on the persona of a thundering mammal, a fierce raptor or even a scary reptile. To be honest, we’re mostly workplace rodents – racing rats, hamsters wheeled, mazed mice brown and small.

Our plans go oft astray, we’re told, and we’re often in jeopardy. Raptors seize us, snakes hunt us, bears…well, they mainly ignore us.
But we are endowed with one striking ability, a source of pride within our tribe of micro-beasties. Despite our size – perhaps because? – we frighten elephants. Our scientific name? Don’t overlookus.