I’m going to write about something that gets my goat: treating abusive people like they are doing something valuable. They aren’t. I started my writing career as a way to cope with a lot of bad past employment experiences that led me to therapy. Now, I’m actually in a pretty good place, but I’ve had to work for some real assholes before, and nobody should justify what these people do.

I start this seemingly random blog post like this because the Devil Wears Prada is getting a sequel this May, and the early advertising thoroughly leans into the undue glorification of Miranda Priestly, Maryl Streep’s character. The original Devil Wears Prada was based on a book written by Lauren Weisberger, who worked as an assistant to Anna Wintour briefly. Miranda Priestly is widely considered to be based on Wintour, and rumors are that Wintour enjoyed the portrayal. This is partially the fault of the first movie, which gave that character a lot more redeeming qualities than the book did. I’ve watched the movie. Haven’t read the book. Given my experiences it might be painful. However, from what I can tell, the entire point of both the book and the movie is that you don’t want to be someone like Priestly. That’s why Andy quits in the end.

Yeah, it’s odd for a heterosexual man nearing 40 to care so much about this movie, and people confuse heroes and villains all the time. That’s why so many people still cheer for Walter White and couldn’t foresee how Game of Thrones ended. The problem is that there are real life people like Priestly, like you know, Wintour, but also some people I’ve worked for. They justify it as tough love, which might work as an excuse if it actually produced results. It doesn’t. When you tear people down, they become less competent, not more so. I had a string of bad bosses, and it made a guy who graduated from Harvard Law School have problems writing names down and getting dates right. I used to be a journalism major, and after all the long hours I put in for someone who would scream at and belittle me, I literally couldn’t read documents that were in front of me. These same people later went bankrupt, and their firms either don’t exist or are a shadow of what they were. As head of Vogue magazine, Wintour might be insulated from the whims of a competitive labor market, but that behavior will catch up with most people.

It’s also justified on the grounds that they have an important job to do, which is bizarre, because in the specific example of this movie, they really don’t. In one scene, they use the example of a sweater the main character wears, and how its exact color was inspired by fashion trends Priestly approved and curated. I can’t think of a weaker excuse for abusive behavior. Let’s say the fashion for that year was green rather than blue, and as a result the sweater is a different color. Does anyone really care? Furthermore, as stated above, abuse does not lead to competence, so if anything, if you do have an important job, that shouldn’t excuse that behavior. If anything, it makes it worse.

Why does the sequel steam me? Based on the initial summaries of the plot, it has Andy coming back to work for Priestly, which is not the plot of the book sequel, once again according to Wikipedia. No. Just no. Look, if you have an abusive boss, you only have one way to punish them: turnover. Don’t argue with them. Don’t try to reason with them. Two words: I quit. Don’t come back. It’s the only way to inflict any kind of negative consequences on these people. Yes, it will cost you something, namely a paycheck, but that’s the only way. American society is set up to teach people to behave through the right of exit. If your spouse hits you, get a divorce. Don’t like what your pastor said, find another church or sleep in on Sunday. If your boss is a jerk, find another job and leave. I know that sometimes it’s tough to find a job. I know from personal experience, but they have a thousand ways to punish you, and you only have one way to punish them. Andy made the right decision the first time.