Anyone above the grade of functioning hermit is best advised to consider it carefully.

The organisational and social filtration systems that protect us from unsolicited communication with each other at work all year is deactivated as work and play take a step out at Christmas.

There's no denying the cynicism that surrounds any socialising of the work-related variety. Now the split between the opposing groups is increasing, company heads are faced with the competing pressures of wanting to satisfy both groups while ensuring their legal responsibilities are met in terms of their duty to care.

Fun can function like a benevolent workplace virus .

There's no metric subtle enough to really measure the benefits to be gained from bringing frivolity and pleasure to the workplace. We all behave better when we feel better; we're more trusting and even more likely to solve problems efficiently. So the theory of the work outing as a good thing for workers and workplace output is reliable and reasonable; allowing people to bond, to relax and socialise together, facilitated by the employer, should make for a happier, more productive workforce. Right?

The application of theory is the problematic area and where many things go awry.

Work outings can actually lead to a rush of strange absences, sick certs, terminations and free-floating bad vibes. People can be a problem. Then there's the increasingly prevalent penchant for attributing blame to the employer in the plethora of legal actions being served, even though he or she may have left the premises at 8pm, way before any trouble broke out or things turned sour.

Henry Ford, famed for his tight managerial disciplinarian style, believed work and play should never be mixed.

At the Ford River Rouge plant of the 1930s and 1940s even merely laughing at work was a disciplinary offence.

Smiling was a sign of insubordination. The toxic combination of work and play, he thought, would lead to reduced profits and ultimately corporate disarray.

His approach was usurped over time. Organisational behaviourists and human resource specialists realised making people happier and helping social interactions to flourish feeds into the bottom line. Now we're at a crossroads . . . the interaction of work and play is potentially beneficial but actually often causes havoc; we could go back or forward, or do we instead try to shift the prevailing ritual so that it takes on a healthier hue?

Hangovers and heartache are not what office parties are supposed to be about.

Part of the problem relates to the clash between what's acceptable socially as opposed to what's acceptable at work . . . and legally, for outings, it's the work rules that dominate, despite the setting.

Then there's the issue of clashing personalities; at work, everyone fakes it reasonably well, not only because we're fitting into the prevailing corporate culture, but because we all know going with the group "manners" at work makes life easier.

Add a brewery to the mix, and the rules become fuzzy and the group fragmented.

Sandra looks different in a dress and Dominic just said he can't stand you . . . the result is usually an explosive mix of stripped back personalities, without the crutch of tasks and processes. The rules of engagement change when employment moves from its usual site into pubs and clubs and restaurants. We're illprepared for the novel social patterns and mannered . . . if not mannerly . . . rituals that office outings are all about.

When they are, they can be a great success. They make people feel better about each other. Just being located outside the normal working environment brings about change. The new geography - the hotel ballroom, the lakeside log cabin or even the parish hall - allows the set pieces that are played out beside the photocopier or within the dull grey canteen appear altered and reconfigured. Mark may display his habit of cutting people short mid sentence from 9 till 5 and be reviled for it, but when this annoying peccadillo is diluted with his other traits and mannerisms, some of which must be more acceptable, his personality is reframed against the backdrop of camaraderie and forgiving banter, and the dreadful workaday effects of the misdeeds appear smaller and less consequential.

Or else the cleansing nature of work gatherings is down to the fact that everyone drinks too much and next morning shares a guilty fear about their own half-remembered wrongdoing. In order to avoid an accusing finger, they are each loathe to attribute blame to anyone for anything done, however disastrous, and so we all return to the office with the organisational slate wiped clean, not of wrongdoing itself, but of the high-horse, holier-than-thou mentality that lets us point those fingers all year round in the first place. Either way, business and pleasure do mix.

It's just that it can be a heady cocktail. The hangover can be more severe and long term in its effects, both for individuals and for the organisation, than a dodgy tummy and splitting head.

Sometimes the only thingpeople who work together have in common, besides the name badge, party hat and the urge to sing "I did it my way" at 1am, is buckets of anti-employer spirit. To keep that from igniting, follow a few guidelines:

>>preferably have two parts to the event . . . an activity and refreshments;

>>consult employees offering a choice of activities;

>>activities should involve an element of team work;

>>activities should be for a specified time;

>>allocate people to teams in advance (an optimum number is 6-8); it may be best to hire in an event organiser if the group is very large;

>>allocate a timeframe to the "refreshment" period;

>>if offering alcohol, specify and stick to what is provided.

>>don't make speeches . . . it's not a PR opportunity;

>>provide a transport facility afterwards;

>>hand over the party over to the people and don't look for thanks, they believe that stuff about them being worth it.