Lamination is a smell. Not always a bad one — some sheets should survive oil — but a sheet that has not been marked in pencil since the last customer audit is no longer a standard. It is a prop that tells visitors the plant owns a printer.
Living standard work has a date, an owner, and a known lie. The known lie is the step everyone skips on Friday. Writing the skip down is more useful than pretending the sheet is holy. In Handover Without Drift we treat the ten-line pass as a standard that is allowed to be ugly and current.
Theatre creeps in when industrial engineering is measured by document count. Count instead how often a deputy can run start-up without calling the named owner. If they cannot, you have literature, not a method.
We are not against documents. We are against documents that cannot survive a noisy last hour. If your standard needs a quiet room to be understood, it will not be used where the work is.