I was just finishing up my next post on the career development series when my mom passed away.I hope to return to topic soon.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Yet again...
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Life intervenes
Just a quick note on my recent absence from this blog.... My dad died this month, and I've been traveling to be with family. I will restart the blog within the week.
Wishing everyone a peace-filled year that is generous and welcoming.
Wishing everyone a peace-filled year that is generous and welcoming.
Monday, November 30, 2009
The Decaying Orbit
My last post suggested that careers follow a natural curve of maturity, decline, and renewal rather than follow a linearly progressive curve, which is the more common conceit. The linear growth progression is an artificial construct we superimpose on the natural rhythms of human development.
Closely tied to this is an idea that as a person navigates his or her progression up the career ladder, management skills become increasingly important. This is of a piece with the idea of linear progression: the higher up you go, the more time a person spends controlling and directing others, and increasingly less time is spent making an individual contribution. I disagree on both counts.
Consider an individual's growth as a human being, starting from the first days in the cradle. We all start life completely focused on the self. An infant only focuses on objects outside himself so that he can meet his own basic needs: influencing a care giver to feed him, keep him comfortable, touch and hold him. With time, he differentiates between the people most important to him (the people who meet his needs daily) and everyone else. He strives to control the environment around him, primarily by influencing those people who can help him control it. By school-age, the individual is learning self-control, and how to influence people outside his family so that he can control his environment. Eventually, the individual expands his world to care about those he does not know personally. Over time, the individual's world expands outward by degrees, and in this process affects his relationship and responsibility to the world in concentric circles around him. Graphically, it looks something like this:
But imagine if you will that each of these circles is actually a 3-dimensional sphere comprising a world relative to the individual, who is the point at the center of it all. Of course, each sphere or world can exist without that individual; this is simply the view from the individual, looking out beyond himself. Only the world of self is entirely dependent on that individual.
A person can manage himself, because that world begins and ends with him. He and only he can direct and control his actions. Although we like to think we can manage others, we can really only influence them; they control their muscles and thoughts, ultimately. Although parents are advised to control or manage their children, in reality parenting consists of setting limits to keep a child within the sphere in which the child can control herself. That's what a time out is all about: remove the child from the sphere where she is acting out, returning her to the sphere of her self so that she is able to regain control of herself. As the child matures, the time out evolves into being grounded. These are similar methods to assist a child to learn self-management, which is essential for becoming socialized.
Self-management is also important in the workplace. It becomes less significant as responsibilities increase, but only because the individual must be highly competent in self-management in order to gain additional responsibilities. As a person is promoted to a position in which she is responsible for the work of others, we call that person a manager. However, the most important role that person plays is to influence others, less than to manage them (if manage means control and direct). Someone who has hundreds or thousands of employees underneath him on an organizational chart can't be said to manage that many people. I can only be puzzled by resumes that claim "250 direct reports" -- just what does that mean? But even with a smaller number of direct reports: what does it mean to 'manage' them? If manage means to control and direct their actions: how is this possible?
I recall a discussion with an employee a number of years ago. He was a senior manager who led a technology team, and I knew he was unhappy. I sought the meeting to learn what was amiss. I explained to him that his success was important to me, and asked how I could be a better support for him. After a bit of talking around it, he finally blurted out, "What kind of manager are you? You aren't managing me!" Whatever I expected to hear, that was not it. This was a professional whose job description gave him significant latitude in directing his team and creating their product line. I had assumed he enjoyed that latitude. Although he didn't want me to boss him around, he was put off by my not even attempting to. We finally agreed upon some structural changes in our relationship, but I couldn't agree to do what only he could do: manage himself. I did learn, however, that the influencing skills that were working well with others in the division were less effective in working with him. I had stepped into a sphere I hadn't understood, and stumbled because I didn't recognize the difference. I had to become a novice again, with this employee, to gain a firmer footing so that I could support his success.
Influence is not a single skill or set of skills. It is less about you, and more about the sphere you are trying to influence. As one's career progresses, the spheres you encounter change in size and in kind. They change with the culture of the population within the sphere -- both the corporate culture and the varied cultures employees bring to their jobs. The sphere is impacted by changes in markets and economies. Therefore, you can never feel that you have finally achieved the skill of influence; this learning is continual.
As one's career progresses and an individual is increasingly more responsible for company outcomes, a couple of things happen. Influence becomes significantly more important, if only because the populations to be influenced become more varied and disparate. At the same time, one has an increasing opportunity to influence in an individualistic way. Although we talk about individual contributors as either professionals or non-management employees, no one is more an individual contributor than the top executive of an organization. That person has a unique opportunity to shape the culture, relationships, and outcomes for employees and customers so that they are entirely aligned with his or her personal vision. Paradoxically, as an individual's influence increases, that influence is both more personal and more outward-focused. Learning how to balance both ends of this paradox is extremely difficult: too much of one or the other can result in executives who are, in the extremes, either self-absorbed bullies or hollow shills.
So, if we superimpose these two concepts together, what do we have?
Each ring of the concentric circles indicates a new sphere of influence. It can be a different population -- assuming leadership of a new group, for instance -- but it can also be a population that has changed. Leading a company in the midst of a great recession is different from leading during a boom period, for instance. With time comes change, and although some behaviors will continue to be successful, others will not. It is at this point that the maturity of your skill set will start to show its limitations, and if you anticipate the cycle, you can start to understand what the spheres you have entered into require of you that was different. Your orbit is decaying; you will need to re-launch.
This is, I think, a more naturalistic perspective on career development. As a metaphor, it more closely reflects the human dynamics of learning and leading than do the popular notions of management and career progression. Most importantly, it is inclusive rather than exclusive: it suggests but does not proscribe. It is a metaphor of possibility that embraces failure because it enables learning and innovation. It is forgiving (don't expect yourself to be perfect all the time) and yet it is demanding (don't rest on your laurels...).
In my next post, I will move from the theoretical to the practical: so what does this look like in real life, and how could it make a difference?
Closely tied to this is an idea that as a person navigates his or her progression up the career ladder, management skills become increasingly important. This is of a piece with the idea of linear progression: the higher up you go, the more time a person spends controlling and directing others, and increasingly less time is spent making an individual contribution. I disagree on both counts.
Consider an individual's growth as a human being, starting from the first days in the cradle. We all start life completely focused on the self. An infant only focuses on objects outside himself so that he can meet his own basic needs: influencing a care giver to feed him, keep him comfortable, touch and hold him. With time, he differentiates between the people most important to him (the people who meet his needs daily) and everyone else. He strives to control the environment around him, primarily by influencing those people who can help him control it. By school-age, the individual is learning self-control, and how to influence people outside his family so that he can control his environment. Eventually, the individual expands his world to care about those he does not know personally. Over time, the individual's world expands outward by degrees, and in this process affects his relationship and responsibility to the world in concentric circles around him. Graphically, it looks something like this:
But imagine if you will that each of these circles is actually a 3-dimensional sphere comprising a world relative to the individual, who is the point at the center of it all. Of course, each sphere or world can exist without that individual; this is simply the view from the individual, looking out beyond himself. Only the world of self is entirely dependent on that individual.
A person can manage himself, because that world begins and ends with him. He and only he can direct and control his actions. Although we like to think we can manage others, we can really only influence them; they control their muscles and thoughts, ultimately. Although parents are advised to control or manage their children, in reality parenting consists of setting limits to keep a child within the sphere in which the child can control herself. That's what a time out is all about: remove the child from the sphere where she is acting out, returning her to the sphere of her self so that she is able to regain control of herself. As the child matures, the time out evolves into being grounded. These are similar methods to assist a child to learn self-management, which is essential for becoming socialized.
Self-management is also important in the workplace. It becomes less significant as responsibilities increase, but only because the individual must be highly competent in self-management in order to gain additional responsibilities. As a person is promoted to a position in which she is responsible for the work of others, we call that person a manager. However, the most important role that person plays is to influence others, less than to manage them (if manage means control and direct). Someone who has hundreds or thousands of employees underneath him on an organizational chart can't be said to manage that many people. I can only be puzzled by resumes that claim "250 direct reports" -- just what does that mean? But even with a smaller number of direct reports: what does it mean to 'manage' them? If manage means to control and direct their actions: how is this possible?
I recall a discussion with an employee a number of years ago. He was a senior manager who led a technology team, and I knew he was unhappy. I sought the meeting to learn what was amiss. I explained to him that his success was important to me, and asked how I could be a better support for him. After a bit of talking around it, he finally blurted out, "What kind of manager are you? You aren't managing me!" Whatever I expected to hear, that was not it. This was a professional whose job description gave him significant latitude in directing his team and creating their product line. I had assumed he enjoyed that latitude. Although he didn't want me to boss him around, he was put off by my not even attempting to. We finally agreed upon some structural changes in our relationship, but I couldn't agree to do what only he could do: manage himself. I did learn, however, that the influencing skills that were working well with others in the division were less effective in working with him. I had stepped into a sphere I hadn't understood, and stumbled because I didn't recognize the difference. I had to become a novice again, with this employee, to gain a firmer footing so that I could support his success.
Influence is not a single skill or set of skills. It is less about you, and more about the sphere you are trying to influence. As one's career progresses, the spheres you encounter change in size and in kind. They change with the culture of the population within the sphere -- both the corporate culture and the varied cultures employees bring to their jobs. The sphere is impacted by changes in markets and economies. Therefore, you can never feel that you have finally achieved the skill of influence; this learning is continual.
As one's career progresses and an individual is increasingly more responsible for company outcomes, a couple of things happen. Influence becomes significantly more important, if only because the populations to be influenced become more varied and disparate. At the same time, one has an increasing opportunity to influence in an individualistic way. Although we talk about individual contributors as either professionals or non-management employees, no one is more an individual contributor than the top executive of an organization. That person has a unique opportunity to shape the culture, relationships, and outcomes for employees and customers so that they are entirely aligned with his or her personal vision. Paradoxically, as an individual's influence increases, that influence is both more personal and more outward-focused. Learning how to balance both ends of this paradox is extremely difficult: too much of one or the other can result in executives who are, in the extremes, either self-absorbed bullies or hollow shills.
So, if we superimpose these two concepts together, what do we have?
Each ring of the concentric circles indicates a new sphere of influence. It can be a different population -- assuming leadership of a new group, for instance -- but it can also be a population that has changed. Leading a company in the midst of a great recession is different from leading during a boom period, for instance. With time comes change, and although some behaviors will continue to be successful, others will not. It is at this point that the maturity of your skill set will start to show its limitations, and if you anticipate the cycle, you can start to understand what the spheres you have entered into require of you that was different. Your orbit is decaying; you will need to re-launch.
This is, I think, a more naturalistic perspective on career development. As a metaphor, it more closely reflects the human dynamics of learning and leading than do the popular notions of management and career progression. Most importantly, it is inclusive rather than exclusive: it suggests but does not proscribe. It is a metaphor of possibility that embraces failure because it enables learning and innovation. It is forgiving (don't expect yourself to be perfect all the time) and yet it is demanding (don't rest on your laurels...).
In my next post, I will move from the theoretical to the practical: so what does this look like in real life, and how could it make a difference?
Monday, November 23, 2009
Up the Down Career Ladder
A young professional recently spoke to me about the unexpected turns his career had taken. Like many, he expected in his early 20s to be able to plot a course and follow that path. It’s easy to see how this happens. Career counseling often inspires young people to assume that planning a career is similar to working out a degree plan. Sign up for the courses, do the work, you get the degree. It’s sometimes a shock to learn life isn’t quite like that.
Once in the work force, young ambitious professionals can grow accustomed to being promoted fairly frequently. They can begin to assume that staying in the same job is equivalent to stagnation, which can derail your career plan. This colleague recognized that despite the fact that he was well off the path he previously thought he his career would take, he recognized this change of course had allowed him to acquire new levels of technical proficiency and develop professionally. But, the fact that he was off-road from the career path of his 20-year old self was nagging at him.
The metaphors we use to frame our life stories can limit or expand our lives. The popular metaphor of a career ladder is particularly limiting. In this frame, one’s career is supposed to look like this:
Each new position moves the individual upward toward the pinnacle, at which point one retires at the top of one’s game. During his work life, when an individual is offered a new position he must consider if that offer is incrementally higher than the last position. A lateral move – much less a ‘backward’ move – can be troubling: how will it look on the resume? For business people, the resume has become the repository of one’s life story, and by every (unwritten) business rule book, that story needs to approximate the plotted line above.
However, this is at odds with the way businesses view their own life cycles. Businesses really don’t expect their products or companies to follow that same linear progression. Rather, the received wisdom is that products and companies follow a maturity curve that looks kind of like this:
Businesses not only accept this life cycle model; the better-run businesses keep watch for signs of maturity in the market or their products, so that they are able to start the renewal cycle as early in the decline as possible.
And yet, professional development is in reality no more linear: it has a natural growth and maturity curve. Young managers typically hit the first ‘decline’ upon assuming their first real management roles. Promoted for technical competency, the new manager must now achieve results through others. First-time managers find that being ‘hands on’ and modeling the behaviors they seek from their employees don’t suffice to change others’ behaviors. The manager’s skills as an individual producer, now in their maturity, begin to drag on the upward curve of the manager’s development. The individual’s career will continue to decline unless the manager learns new skills, becoming a novice once again. Soft skills are generally harder to learn than technical skills, especially if you’re expected to learn these on your own. The manager, who previously had been proud of his accomplishments, can start to feel frustrated, as he’s expected to know how to do things for which he has no preparation. Failing to perceive the inevitable maturity decline is just as risky for the individual as for a business: it can result not in the expected plateau, but rather a downward spiral.
First-time managers are not unique in experiencing this curve; it recurs through an individual’s professional life, and the stakes grow larger over time as the safety nets grow weaker. Many businesses recognize the risk to their entry-level managers and provide them with supervisory training (minimally) and targeted development programs (optimally). But senior executives are expected to be on top of their game – how much tolerance is given for a maturity decline in professional growth to these individuals? Much money is spent on executive coaching, to be sure, within the context of fine-tuning the executive’s skills, not the wholesale reinvention of the executive’s skills. The life cycle maturity curve demands not just tweaking but reinvention. The horse-and-carriage industry didn’t need a tweaked buggy whip when Henry Ford was increasing production; they needed to get into the auto parts business.
Considering one’s own life work within the context of maturity life cycles, we should expect to experience many reinventions over the span of a career, however desparately we pretend to manifest the classic ladder-like career progression. I’ve read a lot of resumes over the years, and inevitably those life stories with obvious reinventions are shoehorned into something that can pass for a linear progression. I imagine what it might be like to read a resume like this:
2001 – 2003: Assistant Manager, Acme Corp.
Oversaw double-digit production and revenue increases by implementing a management by objectives (MBO) program.
2003 – 2004: Manager, Acme Corp
Soon after my promotion, I realized that year-on-year increases were not sustainable, particularly when we lost several key producers due to over-leveraging the MBO program. After two quarters of losses, I accepted the fact that the division needed me to be a different leader. After listening to the 360 feedback from my production team, I undertook a year of rebuilding my leadership and our team’s foundations. The year ended in a slight loss from prior year. This investment led to a phenomenal 2005 fiscal year, as measured not only by the P&L but also in employee retention and engagement.
Unfortunately, the same person’s resume is more likely to look like this:
2001 – 2003: Assistant Manager, Acme Corp.
Oversaw double-digit production and revenue increases by implementing a management by objectives program.
2003 – 2005: Manager, Acme Corp
Under my management, Acme’s production division drove unprecedented profits and revenue.
Typical wisdom is that the resume should market an individual, and therefore it is no place to acknowledge awareness of limitations or failures. For some reason, businesses think it’s in their best interest to hire only people who best convince them of their infallibility – those who exemplify the linearly progressing career. Following this logic, Barings Bank would have considered itself fortunate in 1989 to hire Nicholas Leeson, whose lessons in failure ended up costing Barings over £200 million. Barings’ loss was of course a spectacular debacle played out on the world wide stage. Yet a simple truth connects that experience to one that is universal: everything in the natural world exhibits inevitable patterns of decay and renewal. Don’t expect an artificial pattern from natural elements.
In my next post, I’ll explore an alternative that allows us to view progression in a more rewarding framework. I invite your comments.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Introducing SPC (and Relationships) into Health Care
The Sunday NY Times Magazine's cover story ("Dr James Will Make It Better", by David Leonhardt) was a fascinating look at something called 'evidence based care.' Dr. Brent James has introduced measurement into the hospital system where he works, and it sounds much like statistical process control (SPC), which has been the foundation for continuous, radical improvements in manufacturing and service industries for decades. Although I've read of other hospital systems that have used lean principles to reduce error and costs, this article implies that it's revolutionary for doctors to change the way they administer medicine based on data-based protocols. Although as a patient you may respect your doctor because of his scientific expertise, apparently many doctors have a deeply held belief that their greatest value derives from intuition. One doctor put it this way:
This kind of thinking led to extreme variation in ventilator settings, which had less than optimal outcomes for patients. A group of doctors used data to establish a protocol that James introduced as 'defaults' to the doctors in his hospitals. The soft approach worked:
Although I found myself troubled by the revelation that doctors often make their most critical decisions for a patient (what medicine, when, and how much) based on SWAG, I suppose I am to admire scientists such as Dr. James applying well-established process improvement techniques to remove variability and improve patient outcomes (often called 'life'). This reminds me of the insights I discovered in the book "Sway" (Brafman and Brafman): humans tend to go to their gut instincts especially when the risks are high, rather than use facts and logic to guide them.
As I contemplate where 'evidence based care' might take us (robotized treatment centers?), I am reminded of an interesting viewpoint from a doctor who approaches her job dramatically differently from the 'doc in a box' industry. The Nov 2009 issue of The Sun Magazine offers an interview with Dr. Pamela Wible of Oregon (see print version for complete text). She found the 'assembly line' practice in a clinic dehumanizing to her and to her patients, and so she went solo, and reshaped her job to support a strong relationship with each of her patients. She treats the person, not simply the part of the person that needs healing. She says, "I've reduced costs by humanizing the experience. People want to be cared for, which doesn't necessarily require lab work or MRIs." How she defines her work is this: "The most important therapy I deliver is a human relationship. I'm not doing anything controversial or woo-woo. I never thought of myself as practicing alternative medicine until a colleague pointed out that spending time with patients is now "alternative."'
I think it's possible to provide evidence-based care within the context of human relationships. The fact that Dr. James introduced data-based protocols initially as 'defaults' implies that he understood the importance of relationships in gaining buy-in and necessary feedback to improve the process and therefore the patient outcomes. He needed doctors like Jim Orme to enroll themselves in the process for the protocols to be used and tested. He couldn't achieve that without understanding the impacts on his relationship with these doctors.
Dr. Wible conducted eight community forums before opening her practice. She heard from her community what they needed from their health care provider. She used this data to design her practice. The three priorities for her community were: human respect; simplification; payment. I don't think her community is much different from most; these seem both basic and intuitive. The disconnect between customers and the health care industry on what customers value is wide and deep: consider the ubiquitous drug and hospital advertising that focuses on technology, complexity, and consumption.
I'm encouraged to hear different perspectives on how to transform health care and produce better results for more people. Neither viewpoint is comprehensive: yes, evidence based care is preferable to gut instinct, but doctors must care for people, not statistics. Yes, it's helpful for the doctor to listen to her patient and inquire into the patient's nutrition and home life, but science must also be applied to extend healing beyond what a lay person can do on her own. Business has long believed that the only way to reduce costs is to mass-produce and cheapen the product. These two stories illustrate that higher quality and personalization are not only preferable, but can also reduce costs and improve lives.
“I thought there wasn’t anybody better in the world at twiddling the knobs than I was,” Jim Orme, a critical-care doctor, told me later, “so I was skeptical that any protocol generated by a group of people could do better.”
This kind of thinking led to extreme variation in ventilator settings, which had less than optimal outcomes for patients. A group of doctors used data to establish a protocol that James introduced as 'defaults' to the doctors in his hospitals. The soft approach worked:
The crucial thing about the protocol was that it reduced the variation in what the doctors did. That, in turn, allowed Morris and James to isolate the aspects of treatment that made a difference. There was no way to do that when the doctors were treating patients in dozens of different ways. James has a provocative way of describing his method to doctors: “Guys, it’s more important that you do it the same way than what you think is the right way.”
As I contemplate where 'evidence based care' might take us (robotized treatment centers?), I am reminded of an interesting viewpoint from a doctor who approaches her job dramatically differently from the 'doc in a box' industry. The Nov 2009 issue of The Sun Magazine offers an interview with Dr. Pamela Wible of Oregon (see print version for complete text). She found the 'assembly line' practice in a clinic dehumanizing to her and to her patients, and so she went solo, and reshaped her job to support a strong relationship with each of her patients. She treats the person, not simply the part of the person that needs healing. She says, "I've reduced costs by humanizing the experience. People want to be cared for, which doesn't necessarily require lab work or MRIs." How she defines her work is this: "The most important therapy I deliver is a human relationship. I'm not doing anything controversial or woo-woo. I never thought of myself as practicing alternative medicine until a colleague pointed out that spending time with patients is now "alternative."'
I think it's possible to provide evidence-based care within the context of human relationships. The fact that Dr. James introduced data-based protocols initially as 'defaults' implies that he understood the importance of relationships in gaining buy-in and necessary feedback to improve the process and therefore the patient outcomes. He needed doctors like Jim Orme to enroll themselves in the process for the protocols to be used and tested. He couldn't achieve that without understanding the impacts on his relationship with these doctors.
Dr. Wible conducted eight community forums before opening her practice. She heard from her community what they needed from their health care provider. She used this data to design her practice. The three priorities for her community were: human respect; simplification; payment. I don't think her community is much different from most; these seem both basic and intuitive. The disconnect between customers and the health care industry on what customers value is wide and deep: consider the ubiquitous drug and hospital advertising that focuses on technology, complexity, and consumption.
I'm encouraged to hear different perspectives on how to transform health care and produce better results for more people. Neither viewpoint is comprehensive: yes, evidence based care is preferable to gut instinct, but doctors must care for people, not statistics. Yes, it's helpful for the doctor to listen to her patient and inquire into the patient's nutrition and home life, but science must also be applied to extend healing beyond what a lay person can do on her own. Business has long believed that the only way to reduce costs is to mass-produce and cheapen the product. These two stories illustrate that higher quality and personalization are not only preferable, but can also reduce costs and improve lives.
Monday, October 19, 2009
It matters how money is made
"Everything happens in the context of relationships."
This concept was a revelation to me a few years ago. I'd been raised on a different business ethic: "Don't bring your personal life to work." In this way of thinking, your job specifies the 'role' you play.To be successful, you must not only embody the role, but also recognize the roles others are playing, and with them perform an unseen script. Bringing one's personal self to work, and interacting with others' personal selves, can't be tolerated, since this intrusion gets in the way of achieving business goals. Good workers must strive single-mindedly toward meeting the corporation's objectives. Those who do this well will be rewarded.
Being very driven operationally and technically, I was more than receptive to a de-personalized work place, and approaching my work this way usually produced good business results. But, when I sought feedback from peers and direct reports, I heard a consistent message that I was 'at times' not approachable. Those 'times' occurred when I was most intently driving to a business objective: meeting a project deadline; overcoming obstacles in reaching business goals. I was grateful that I had good enough relationships with others that they felt comfortable sharing this with me, and yet for years I failed to understand what I could do about it, other than try to play my role a bit differently.
And then a couple years ago, I came across what seemed a completely revolutionary thought: Everything happens in the context of relationships. If you care for those relationships, your outcomes will exceed your expectations. The person you are as a leader either enables or prevents others to be successful. If the people you lead are not being successful, look first to the relationship between you. Is it characterized by honesty and disclosure? Is it apparent to the other person that you care about his or her success, and that you bring a sincere interest in understanding both the facts and feelings of the relationship? As I've put this learning to practice, I have a growing appreciation for its power. A business is not a disembodied entity that people work for. A business is the people who work in it, and it changes measurably as the people within it change. It is simply the sum of the outcomes produced by those peoples' relationships, popularly called 'teamwork.' Moreover, the business exists within the environment of its community: consciously or not, the business contributes to community-based relationships, for good or ill.
Following the nation's economic news, I have come to realize a fundamental difference in the ethos of the community and that of many corporations. The people who work in businesses and whose communities are affected by them share a relationship-based ethos. Listen to interviews of workers who have been laid off recently. Whether the workers are young in their careers or have spent a lifetime with the company, they speak emotionally about their loss: not only of the loss of their livelihood, but also of the relationships lost to them. They speak of the close ties they have forged with co-workers, their 'second family' at work, and of the pride they have taken in what they accomplished together. People view work as more than an exchange of time for money. They bring to work not only their physical bodies but also all the complexities of their personalities, histories, emotions, and aspirations.They witness the contributions that they produce individually and with others for the business. All of the corporate talk of 'teamwork' just reinforces with them the importance of relationships as the singular engine for corporate success.
A corporation tethered by the concept of itself within its de-personalized person-hood can never understand the power that actually drives success in its business. The business's responsibility for its relationships with its employees and community trumps the profit imperative. In my work, I am responsible for profitability, and I take that responsibility seriously. So seriously, that I maintain that a business cannot be profitable both today and in the future unless its management understands that everything happens in the context of relationships. Failure to understand this leads to toxic debt packages that lead to rampant foreclosures that lead to ultimate insolvency (unless your business is 'too big to fail'). It leads to double-digit unemployment, with unimaginable human misery and long-term scarring with unknowable economic impact. It leads to toxic food, loss of life and health. The tolls are incalculable - and for what end?
Profits do not have to suffer as relationships are honored; my experience is that in fact, quite the opposite is true. This seems counter-intuitive only if you accept that the corporation is a mechanical entity that exists only to produce profits. However if you assume that the corporation is the sum of the people who work together to produce services or products profitably, and that the business exists within the context of the community upon which it depends, then it seems perfectly reasonable if not inevitable. I work in a company governed by a set of values that give shape to the relationships inside and outside the business. Not so coincidentally, the company has produced year-on-year growth every year (this one included) since embracing these values. The company's values are not just nice-to-haves; they are essential to the company's business plans and its success.
If all actions were based on the profit imperative, irrespective of relationships, human society as we know it would not be possible. Yet, even when our communities bear the manifold costs of the financial collapse caused by uncontrolled profiteering, society is reluctant to hold the bad actors accountable. I think our failure is partly grounded in an unmindful acceptance of their ethos, even when we do not share in it. We have accepted too readily that as long as it's legal, it's acceptable. But it matters how money is made. Legality is a low standard indeed for a society's norms, and you have to ask:who has decided what is legal and what is not?
Let us accept that human society is nothing if not the relationships that allow us to live together successfully to produce successive generations who may also thrive. Economic security and success are interwoven with those relationships. Everything happens in the context of relationships.
This concept was a revelation to me a few years ago. I'd been raised on a different business ethic: "Don't bring your personal life to work." In this way of thinking, your job specifies the 'role' you play.To be successful, you must not only embody the role, but also recognize the roles others are playing, and with them perform an unseen script. Bringing one's personal self to work, and interacting with others' personal selves, can't be tolerated, since this intrusion gets in the way of achieving business goals. Good workers must strive single-mindedly toward meeting the corporation's objectives. Those who do this well will be rewarded.
Being very driven operationally and technically, I was more than receptive to a de-personalized work place, and approaching my work this way usually produced good business results. But, when I sought feedback from peers and direct reports, I heard a consistent message that I was 'at times' not approachable. Those 'times' occurred when I was most intently driving to a business objective: meeting a project deadline; overcoming obstacles in reaching business goals. I was grateful that I had good enough relationships with others that they felt comfortable sharing this with me, and yet for years I failed to understand what I could do about it, other than try to play my role a bit differently.
And then a couple years ago, I came across what seemed a completely revolutionary thought: Everything happens in the context of relationships. If you care for those relationships, your outcomes will exceed your expectations. The person you are as a leader either enables or prevents others to be successful. If the people you lead are not being successful, look first to the relationship between you. Is it characterized by honesty and disclosure? Is it apparent to the other person that you care about his or her success, and that you bring a sincere interest in understanding both the facts and feelings of the relationship? As I've put this learning to practice, I have a growing appreciation for its power. A business is not a disembodied entity that people work for. A business is the people who work in it, and it changes measurably as the people within it change. It is simply the sum of the outcomes produced by those peoples' relationships, popularly called 'teamwork.' Moreover, the business exists within the environment of its community: consciously or not, the business contributes to community-based relationships, for good or ill.
Following the nation's economic news, I have come to realize a fundamental difference in the ethos of the community and that of many corporations. The people who work in businesses and whose communities are affected by them share a relationship-based ethos. Listen to interviews of workers who have been laid off recently. Whether the workers are young in their careers or have spent a lifetime with the company, they speak emotionally about their loss: not only of the loss of their livelihood, but also of the relationships lost to them. They speak of the close ties they have forged with co-workers, their 'second family' at work, and of the pride they have taken in what they accomplished together. People view work as more than an exchange of time for money. They bring to work not only their physical bodies but also all the complexities of their personalities, histories, emotions, and aspirations.They witness the contributions that they produce individually and with others for the business. All of the corporate talk of 'teamwork' just reinforces with them the importance of relationships as the singular engine for corporate success.
A corporation tethered by the concept of itself within its de-personalized person-hood can never understand the power that actually drives success in its business. The business's responsibility for its relationships with its employees and community trumps the profit imperative. In my work, I am responsible for profitability, and I take that responsibility seriously. So seriously, that I maintain that a business cannot be profitable both today and in the future unless its management understands that everything happens in the context of relationships. Failure to understand this leads to toxic debt packages that lead to rampant foreclosures that lead to ultimate insolvency (unless your business is 'too big to fail'). It leads to double-digit unemployment, with unimaginable human misery and long-term scarring with unknowable economic impact. It leads to toxic food, loss of life and health. The tolls are incalculable - and for what end?
Profits do not have to suffer as relationships are honored; my experience is that in fact, quite the opposite is true. This seems counter-intuitive only if you accept that the corporation is a mechanical entity that exists only to produce profits. However if you assume that the corporation is the sum of the people who work together to produce services or products profitably, and that the business exists within the context of the community upon which it depends, then it seems perfectly reasonable if not inevitable. I work in a company governed by a set of values that give shape to the relationships inside and outside the business. Not so coincidentally, the company has produced year-on-year growth every year (this one included) since embracing these values. The company's values are not just nice-to-haves; they are essential to the company's business plans and its success.
If all actions were based on the profit imperative, irrespective of relationships, human society as we know it would not be possible. Yet, even when our communities bear the manifold costs of the financial collapse caused by uncontrolled profiteering, society is reluctant to hold the bad actors accountable. I think our failure is partly grounded in an unmindful acceptance of their ethos, even when we do not share in it. We have accepted too readily that as long as it's legal, it's acceptable. But it matters how money is made. Legality is a low standard indeed for a society's norms, and you have to ask:who has decided what is legal and what is not?
Let us accept that human society is nothing if not the relationships that allow us to live together successfully to produce successive generations who may also thrive. Economic security and success are interwoven with those relationships. Everything happens in the context of relationships.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Lean takes on a new meaning
Update 8 October 09:
This morning's NYTimes reports that Costco has worked out a supply agreement with Tyson, allowing Costco to test Tyson's products prior to resale. And, there's some speechifying from the administration and Congress. Would be encouraging if this goes somewhere, but it's hard to see it will.
The Sunday NY Times featured a front-page story, shocking and deeply disturbing, that explained how E. coli contamination is allowed to occur in the US meat industry. In one example, meat sold under the product name "American Chef’s Selection Angus Beef Patties" was actually a mixture of meat products made by Cargill from three separate suppliers. None of these suppliers, nor the producer of 'American Chef's Selection Angus Beef Patties,' tested their products for contamination. Ms. Smith, a young woman who ate a hamburger made of this meat, became critically ill and is paralyzed.
But, you may wonder, I thought Sinclair's The Jungle changed all of this last century ... don't we have regulations that protect the consumer? That would be the USDA, and this is what they say:
No doubt Cargill has worked its supply chain relationships to drive down costs, but it's certainly not practicing Lean principles. This is old-fashioned greed. The article takes pains to point out that Costco, known for its supply chain and cost management, insists on testing the meat it procures: those suppliers who don't want their products tested (like Tyson) don't sell to Costco. Dr. Petersen should not worry about protecting the businesses he regulates. If they have to charge 30 cents more to produce meat that is clean, so be it. What consumer wouldn't prefer to pay an incremental difference for the peace of mind?
The kink in that argument is that consumer trust is badly eroded, because regulation has not been enforced where it exists, and it has been severely cut back. Protections we once enjoyed have been hacked away under the philosophy that government is bad. We are reaping the results now, not only in unclean food but also in huge economic failures. If consumers no longer trust that they are being protected, how can a business assure its customer that the higher price of its product is due to the product really being what it's labeled? Bubba Burgers, the article tells us, attempts to differentiate its product by this label: “100% whole muscle means no trimmings.” Until I read this article, I would have had no appreciation for what's behind this message (or what something called 'fine lean textured beef' really is - for starters, the raw material for this substance is up to 70% fat; centrifuges and ammonia are involved). If you're purchasing ground beef based on label information alone, which would you think the safer choice for your family: Bubba Burgers, or American Chef's Selection Angus Beef Patties? They both bear the USDA Approval label. What are you supposed to make of that?
And yet, I have little expectation that the article will have much more of an effect than grossing out its readers. Maybe Costco will get a brief uptick in their meat department. Maybe grocery store butchers will have more requests this week for grinding whole cuts of meat for customers. That's fine, but it's not the solution. Why shouldn't we expect businesses to eliminate costs by reducing waste, not by reducing quality? Why should we not insist that government do what we individually cannot do? Why are we paying the salaries of bureaucrats who seek to protect the industries they are supposed to regulate, at the expense of citizens? Why aren't we demanding substantive change?
President Obama campaigned on change, and surely that's the message that gave him a four-year lease at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Yet since January, simply the prospect of change has become radicalized. Even in the face of incontrovertible evidence that the status quo is harmful, leaders are fearful of taking a stand for change, as if the safe position was to stand pat. Geoffrey Miller, in his book Spent, cites studies that correlate threat of disease in a population with low ratings of openness. The more people sense threats they cannot control, they become more resistant to change and fearful of outsiders. We can look around us and see catastrophe on all sides: environment, financial sector, housing, employment, education, health care. The response of some will be: "We need to do something about that!" Apparently, even more people will hunker down in their misery, and attack those who press for change.
You don't have to play to those fears, however. If they trust their leadership, people can be inspired to overcome their fears and act. Recently at work, we set a challenge for the stores to achieve sales levels never consistently met before. We were responding to the same economy that other retailers are using to justify hunkering down: cutting back, hyping poor values. But, we decided to inspire new levels of performance. I could give the stores no magic bullet, no certainty that they would succeed -- just my belief they would. I asked them to look only within the walls of their own stores to see what they could do to transform the experience of our customers, and deliver even greater value to them. And you know what? They did it.
This morning's NYTimes reports that Costco has worked out a supply agreement with Tyson, allowing Costco to test Tyson's products prior to resale. And, there's some speechifying from the administration and Congress. Would be encouraging if this goes somewhere, but it's hard to see it will.
The Sunday NY Times featured a front-page story, shocking and deeply disturbing, that explained how E. coli contamination is allowed to occur in the US meat industry. In one example, meat sold under the product name "American Chef’s Selection Angus Beef Patties" was actually a mixture of meat products made by Cargill from three separate suppliers. None of these suppliers, nor the producer of 'American Chef's Selection Angus Beef Patties,' tested their products for contamination. Ms. Smith, a young woman who ate a hamburger made of this meat, became critically ill and is paralyzed.
In combining the ingredients, Cargill was following a common industry practice of mixing trim from various suppliers to hit the desired fat content for the least money, industry officials said. [...] In all, the ingredients for Ms. Smith’s burger cost Cargill about $1 a pound, company records show, or about 30 cents less than industry experts say it would cost for ground beef made from whole cuts of meat [....] The listed ingredients revealed little of how the meat was made. There was just one meat product listed: “Beef.”
But, you may wonder, I thought Sinclair's The Jungle changed all of this last century ... don't we have regulations that protect the consumer? That would be the USDA, and this is what they say:
Dr. Kenneth Petersen, an assistant administrator with the department’s Food Safety and Inspection Service, said that the department could mandate testing, but that it needed to consider the impact on companies as well as consumers. “I have to look at the entire industry, not just what is best for public health,” Dr. Petersen said.
The kink in that argument is that consumer trust is badly eroded, because regulation has not been enforced where it exists, and it has been severely cut back. Protections we once enjoyed have been hacked away under the philosophy that government is bad. We are reaping the results now, not only in unclean food but also in huge economic failures. If consumers no longer trust that they are being protected, how can a business assure its customer that the higher price of its product is due to the product really being what it's labeled? Bubba Burgers, the article tells us, attempts to differentiate its product by this label: “100% whole muscle means no trimmings.” Until I read this article, I would have had no appreciation for what's behind this message (or what something called 'fine lean textured beef' really is - for starters, the raw material for this substance is up to 70% fat; centrifuges and ammonia are involved). If you're purchasing ground beef based on label information alone, which would you think the safer choice for your family: Bubba Burgers, or American Chef's Selection Angus Beef Patties? They both bear the USDA Approval label. What are you supposed to make of that?
And yet, I have little expectation that the article will have much more of an effect than grossing out its readers. Maybe Costco will get a brief uptick in their meat department. Maybe grocery store butchers will have more requests this week for grinding whole cuts of meat for customers. That's fine, but it's not the solution. Why shouldn't we expect businesses to eliminate costs by reducing waste, not by reducing quality? Why should we not insist that government do what we individually cannot do? Why are we paying the salaries of bureaucrats who seek to protect the industries they are supposed to regulate, at the expense of citizens? Why aren't we demanding substantive change?
President Obama campaigned on change, and surely that's the message that gave him a four-year lease at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Yet since January, simply the prospect of change has become radicalized. Even in the face of incontrovertible evidence that the status quo is harmful, leaders are fearful of taking a stand for change, as if the safe position was to stand pat. Geoffrey Miller, in his book Spent, cites studies that correlate threat of disease in a population with low ratings of openness. The more people sense threats they cannot control, they become more resistant to change and fearful of outsiders. We can look around us and see catastrophe on all sides: environment, financial sector, housing, employment, education, health care. The response of some will be: "We need to do something about that!" Apparently, even more people will hunker down in their misery, and attack those who press for change.
You don't have to play to those fears, however. If they trust their leadership, people can be inspired to overcome their fears and act. Recently at work, we set a challenge for the stores to achieve sales levels never consistently met before. We were responding to the same economy that other retailers are using to justify hunkering down: cutting back, hyping poor values. But, we decided to inspire new levels of performance. I could give the stores no magic bullet, no certainty that they would succeed -- just my belief they would. I asked them to look only within the walls of their own stores to see what they could do to transform the experience of our customers, and deliver even greater value to them. And you know what? They did it.
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