I had an unpleasant realization the other day. I was reading a newspaper story about what has become a classic Hollywood story: A movie studio executive was under fire because profits were down. Corporate headquarters was piping mad because his division was dragging down the overall performance of the media conglomerate. This fellow needed to make changes and improvements, pronto, or his bosses were going to can him Donnie Trump style.

For some reason, the fact that an accomplished Hollywood power broker actually had a boss bothered me. I understand that most people in show business either 1) revile these types as artless, empty suits lacking creative vision; or 2) disdain their power with chronic jealousy, but no matter what, nobody doubts their ability to get things done in this town. In the world of entertainment, they’re supposed to be the boss, the head honcho, the ultimate decision-maker. It’s human nature to assemble in hierarchies of power. It gives us a sense of control and place. But these days, there’s nobody at the top. Nobody’s the boss. Everyone’s accountable to somebody or something else.

In corporate America, this phenomenon is easy to spot. With globalization, rampant mergers and acquisitions, and efficiencies brought about by technology and management improvements, the biggest companies are bigger than ever, so the CEO of any organization is more like a division manager than a corporate leader. And given the huge market capitalization of the Fortune 500, anybody who finds themselves at the top of these organizational flowcharts has a whole host of bosses called shareholders. Not to mention the strict oversight and regulation corporate boards and directors have employed since the accounting scandals of the early part of the Millennium.

Perhaps this business-speak doesn’t apply to you. You could care less about the power struggles of corporate America because you’re a painter or professional skateboarder. Or you’re firmly entrenched in a blue- or white-collar job, but don’t have any real ambition to be the boss. You just enjoy doing your work, calling it a day and heading home to your family. You don’t ever need the headaches and tension that go along with top management. You don’t aspire to climb the corporate ladder.

Well, I hope you’re aware that there’s no longer such a thing as a boss in the typical American family. Children have become the focal point of families. This isn’t necessarily terrible in every respect; after all, most parents really do feel an obligation to raise upstanding, responsible citizens. But this duty has gone overboard. Now, each child’s life is an 18-year march to college admission’s dominance over their peers. Sometimes, this starts in utero, with eager mothers holding foreign language tapes up to their stomachs. You know, so the kid can get a head start on his career as a diplomat or as a multi-lingual intellectual.

The point is, even if you earn the money in your family and sleep in the master bedroom, in all likelihood, most of your efforts go towards maximizing the potential of the gangly little people wearing head-gear in the next room over. And hey, this isn’t a bad thing. Having children is one of the joys of life. But it doesn’t make you the boss.

It’s even hard to be boss if you go into politics. I’m sure George W. Bush fancied himself the du jour boss of the country at one point. Heck, he made some pretty big decisions on his own about Iraq, and regardless of the consequences, it’s undeniable that these are the actions of somebody who is in charge. He even has declared himself “The Decider” on several occasions. Sounds boss-like to me. But given his current political weakening and the inherent lame-duckiness that pervades second term administrations, I think I see the same pattern developing here. You may think you’re the boss, but the reality may be something quite different. Not to mention that an extreme idealist might claim that government officials, in fact, serve 300 million to 400 million individual bosses known as the American public.

As for the sphere of religious life, I think we know that, regardless of creed, there’s only one true boss in this arena. So if you’re a true believer, maybe it’s comforting that there is one big boss up in the sky. But regardless, this still doesn’t speak well for the realm of mortal, human bosses.

Maybe the fact that we’re all accountable to somebody else isn’t so bad. It could make us more responsible, considerate and humble. Power taken to an extreme can easily turn into megalomania or a dictatorship. And those aren’t any fun. But the fact remains that it’s very hard in this world to get some breathing room without a superior breathing down your neck.

Wherever you go, there he is — your boss.

Seth Barnes can be reached at barnesseth@hotmail.com.