The Rolling Death of Workplace Introductions: A Sociological Study in Social Survival

Few workplace rituals are as universally dreaded as the “go around the table and introduce yourself” exercise—a sacred but entirely unnecessary tradition designed, presumably, to test how well employees can remember their own names under pressure.

Last week, I found myself in exactly such a scenario: a team meeting with our incoming CEO, a man whose future decisions may shape the very structure of our existence, and yet whose first impression of us would be based entirely on how well we fumbled through a 30-second introduction of ourselves.

And, as expected, the meeting followed the ancient ritual of the rolling death—where introductions travel slowly, methodically, and painfully around the table in one singular, unavoidable direction.

If Erving Goffman were alive today, he would absolutely be taking notes.

The Rolling Death: A Workplace Ritual with No Escape

Sociologists love studying rituals—not just the big, cultural ones, but the mundane, everyday ones that shape our behaviour without us even questioning them.

French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu would call this an example of habitus—a set of learned behaviours and expectations that feel natural, even when they make no sense.

The rolling death achieves nothing tangible, yet we all go along with it, because:

1. We have been socialised to obey workplace norms, even absurd ones.
2. Nobody wants to be the one who disrupts the flow of the ritual.
3. Deep down, we fear being judged for refusing to participate.

The process is as follows:

1. The first person starts. This is either a brave fool or a sacrificial lamb. They speak with uncertain confidence, setting the tone for the rest of us. This is usually the first person round, either clockwise or anti-clockwise, and rarely the middle.
2. The introduction slowly moves around the table. One by one, people recite their name, job title, and one piece of mildly useful information while everyone else calculates their own impending response.
3. The pressure builds. As your turn approaches, your ability to form basic sentences deteriorates rapidly. Your own name, previously a well-known fact, now feels suspiciously unfamiliar.
4. Your turn arrives. You panic, rush through your introduction, and immediately forget what you just said.
5. The relief is fleeting. Now, you must sit in awkward silence, pretending to listen to everyone else while replaying your own introduction in your head and cringing at how weird you sounded.

It’s a psychological endurance test, and none of us ever truly pass.

Goffman’s Take: Workplace Introductions as Social Theatre

According to Erving Goffman, social interactions are like performances—we carefully construct our behaviour to present ourselves in the best possible way, adapting to the expectations of our audience.

A workplace introduction is a high-pressure social performance, where we must:

• Appear competent, but not arrogant.
• Be engaging, but not take up too much time.
• Speak clearly, but not sound rehearsed.

We are all performing professionalism, desperately trying to project an image of ourselves that aligns with workplace norms.

However, like any theatre production, there are inevitable failures:

• The person who panics and forgets what their job is.
• The one who overshares personal details no one asked for.
• The colleague who tries to be funny but accidentally offends everyone.

By the end of the exercise, the CEO has already forgotten half of what was said, but that doesn’t matter—because this was never about real introductions.

It was about proving that we are capable of basic workplace rituals.

The Power Dynamics of the Rolling Death (Hello, Foucault)

If Michel Foucault were dragged into a corporate meeting (which, frankly, he would have hated), he would argue that the rolling death is a disciplinary mechanism—a subtle way of reinforcing workplace power structures.

Consider the silent power dynamics at play:

• The CEO does not have to introduce themselves. They are already known.
• Employees must present themselves in a way that aligns with workplace expectations.
• Everyone subtly monitors each other’s performance, ensuring compliance with the ritual.

This is what Foucault called panopticism—a form of power where people self-regulate their own behaviour because they know they are being observed.

Even though the CEO is not actually judging us that harshly, we fear that they might be, so we discipline ourselves accordingly.

The rolling death isn’t just awkward—it’s an example of how social control operates through everyday interactions.

The Silent Hierarchy of Workplace Introductions (A Weberian Nightmare)

Sociologist Max Weber argued that bureaucracy is a system of rules, hierarchy, and routine designed to maintain order—and nothing embodies this better than a corporate meeting where everyone must follow the same introduction formula.

This is bureaucratic theatre at its finest:

• The CEO sits at the head of the hierarchy, while we queue up to present ourselves for approval.
• Our introductions must follow an established template, ensuring consistency.
• The process reinforces our place in the organisation, subtly reminding us of our professional rank.

If someone tried to introduce themselves out of turn or refused to participate, they would be seen as disruptive—not because there’s an actual rule against it, but because we have all been conditioned to respect the flow of bureaucratic order.

By the end, nothing meaningful has been achieved, but the ritual has successfully reinforced corporate structure—which is, presumably, the entire point.

Final Thoughts: A Ritual We Will Never Escape

The rolling death introduction achieves nothing except mild suffering and existential doubt, yet it remains a fundamental part of workplace culture.

Could we just send a short email introducing ourselves? Yes.
Would that be far more efficient? Absolutely.
Will we ever escape this ritual? Not a chance.

So, next time you find yourself in this situation, just remember:

• Goffman would say you’re performing workplace normality.
• Foucault would say you’re self-disciplining under subtle power structures.
• Weber would say this is just another cog in the bureaucratic machine.
• Bourdieu would say you’re engaging in habitus—following a ritual because it’s what we’ve always done.

And at the end of the day, the CEO won’t remember what you said. They will, however, remember the one person who messed up spectacularly.

May it never be you, for it wasn’t me!