There Must Be a Better Way, Part I

I had an influential chemistry teacher in high school who was steadfast in his belief that if you truly understood something you could make it, break it, and put it back together again. It's a wise and valid concept. Even so, it's somewhat limiting given that you end up with exactly what you started with. You may have demonstrated that you understood it, but what about the ability to improve it?

For that reason, with all due respect Mr. Nelson, let's take the concept a step further. If you truly understand something and can apply experience, intelligence, and creativity you should be able to make it, break it, and put it back together again better than before.

I mean really, who wants the same old mouse trap when we can make one that works better? Similarly, who wants the same old, traditional, hierarchical, inefficient, incentive-killing, commitment-sapping, and passion-crushing work place when we can make one that inspires and produces significantly better performance than the ones currently littering the business landscape?

But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Let's consider the work place and begin with a look at how it's currently configured in the vast majority of organizations on the planet. (For purposes of brevity, we'll limit this discussion to organizations only on Earth.) Specifically, let's consider how the typical organization often transforms independent, enthusiastic, energized, passionate people into clock-watching, order-taking, overly-cautious, rule-bound, excessively-obedient, survival-oriented employees. (Think that too harsh? Just ask the 85% -- 85 percent! -- of those who said they were less than 'fully engaged' in their work in a 2005 study of 86,000 workers worldwide by Towers Perrin, a consulting firm and my alma mater.) If we truly understand how organizations do this so effectively, we should be able to design an organization that attracts top performers, energizes its people, breeds creativity, and fosters passion with one unifying purpose in mind: To blow away the competition.

So, what how do most organizations undermine and, often, extinguish the enthusiasm and change-the-world energy many first bring to work -- and, in the process, limit bottom-line performance? Let us count the ways.

Step 1: Assign you to a 'caste'. The first part of the transformation, immediately following being hired, involves the assignment of a job title, which has likely been created and benchmarked extensively by the human resources function. The job title defines who you are and where you fit in the organization. In doing so, the job title specifies the class or caste within which you will operate, the extent of your freedom to innovate, the advancement opportunities available to you, and your earning potential. If you're lucky, you even get a business card with the job title on it -- to remind you and everyone in the organization of your level. And since the job has been benchmarked in other like-companies, your caste level is known throughout the vast business community. For as we all know, Customer Service Representative I is completely different and far superior to Customer Service Representative II, regardless of company, right? Or is it the other way around?

Step 2: Place you in a specific 'box' within a fixed organization structure. The next element of the transformation process involves putting you in a 'box' -- where your job is located -- within the larger organization structure. The box defines to whom you report, who may report to you, who your peers may be, and the unit within the larger organization in which you will operate. The 'level' of the box in the organization's hierarchy also reinforces what you already know: Your caste. As you'll soon learn, the box in which you're in is communicated to everyone in the company. For this reason, everyone else knows your caste, too, and will likely treat you accordingly. (Curious how boxes define jobs on an org chart. Maybe it's something about surrounding each job and each person with walls.)

Step 3: Limit independence, creativity by thoroughly defining your job. The next step in the transformation is one of education. Here, you are given instruction on precisely how to do your job. (The lower the caste level, the greater attention to detailed instruction.) Never mind that you are intelligent, may have experience elsewhere, or have done a similar job before. Instead, you are taught how this job is done in this company. While there are undoubtedly benefits in careful instruction, part of the teaching typically emphasizes how we do this job here. With the message being quite clear: That deviation is not appropriate. Thus limiting creativity, innovation and personal style. And to make it that much more clear that the company is serious about this, you will have a 'manager' who will oversee your work and help you perform your job the way it's to be done here.

(Are you with me so far? Good.)

Step 4: Teach you what's permissible and especially what's not. A critical step in the transformation comes during the first few weeks of work and is typically delivered informally. Your manager, coworkers, and/or a 'buddy' will explain the unwritten rules of the organization. Importantly, these 'rules' are typically behaviors to be avoided. Like, for example, 'Pushing back on ideas here is frowned upon.'. (Translation: Don't disagree.) Or, 'Here, we play nice.'. (Translation: Don't disagree.) Or, 'We keep our emotions in check.' (Translation: Don't disagree with any enthusiasm.) Interestingly, these rules are often communicated in a commiserating tone, as if the person is saying, 'I don't make the rules here, but they are what they are.'. Soon you too will be asked to teach these rules to others entering the organization.

Step 5: Promote 'sameness'. An essential part of the transformation process requires you to learn that most people in the organization are treated essentially the same, regardless of performance or potential. This is especially true of your entire caste. Try to overlook the poorer performers in your midst. We all know who they are, don't we? Despite the demotivating aspects of their continued employment, as well as the revelation that the company doesn't really mean that performance and contribution are important or that winning in the market is something the company is serious about, treating people similarly is common to most organizations.

Step 6: Redefine 'personal growth', 'advancement'. Toward the end of your first year of work, you may be fortunate enough to sit with your manager to discuss your career. Here you'll begin to learn that your idea of career growth and your manager's view of career growth are largely dissimilar. This is likely due to the fact that you equate promotion to 'getting a higher level job with more authority and more money'. Your manager, in contrast, explains that 'advancement' means taking a series of 'lateral' jobs. (Translation: Jobs of equal stature and pay in other parts of the organization.) And while learning more about the organization may make you more valuable over time, somehow the basic concept of 'moving up in the organization' has gotten lost. There's a specific reason for this: In most hierarchical companies, there simply isn't any room to move up. So, out of necessity and rather than stating the obvious, companies have instead changed the definition of 'promotion'. Clever, no? Learning that real promotion is unlikely is a vital step in the passion-draining transformation process.

Step 7: Distribute rewards without sufficient transparency. Lastly, you will learn that rewards -- opportunities to work on 'cool' projects, promotions, pay increases, bonuses -- are given out with insufficient explanation and often no visibility to the rationale. Disconnecting the distribution of rewards from performance and contribution produces the essential question asked by a vast majority of employees worldwide: 'What's the point of working hard, of trying to produce outstanding results, of helping my company excel?' Once you pose that question, the transformation is complete.

That's the way it's done. Seven steps requiring about a year. And while not intentional, the undermining or fully stripping of all that drives many of us to produce outstanding results at work is definitely the outcome. Just ask those around you. Our bet is that 85% will agree.

By the way, thank Henry Ford. Hierarchy, closely-managed workers assigned to specific, carefully-structured jobs was something he championed. Given his success, others quickly copied Ford's approach to organizations. The problem is that those days are gone. Long gone. A new model is needed if organizations are to thrive -- hey, if they're to survive -- in our technology-driven, fiercely-competitive, ever-changing world.

The question now is how to build a better organization, one capable of attracting highly talented, creative, passionate people and mobilizing them to blow away the competition.

Come back next week. We'll talk.

Expressions of Love

You want something to cry about? I'll give you something to cry about.

When I call, you come running.

Do that again and I'll give you a shoe.

There are a lot of grades here. All A's and a B+. So, what happened in English?

Funny the things we remember about our fathers from childhood. And despite how these sayings of his may sound -- and how I likely felt when he said those things -- the memories of my father from those days so long ago are fond. Quite fond, actually. Because, and I knew this then, this is how my father expressed love.

My dad's not much of a talker, at least not to children. In many ways he seemed uncomfortable around younger people. (To this day, I remember how uncomfortable it was as a kid to drive even 30 minutes alone with him -- unless you liked silence.) But where he thrived, where he truly excelled, was in the arena -- that vast and fertile coliseum -- of discipline. My oh my, was my father The Stern Disciplinarian! Look it up on Wikipedia and you'll see a photo of my dad.

It's as if the only job description he ever saw for 'Father' read something like this:

1. Produce offspring
2. Provide for them
3. Define the rules they should live by, with Rule #1 being: Respect Thy Father
   
4. Enforce those rules with unwavering conviction (but, when spanking, use a shoe to protect your hand)
5. Create new rules as needed to keep your offspring in line
   

Probably got that job description from his father, a very serious man who left eastern Europe one small step ahead of the Nazis.

But if that was the description he had, my dad performed the job with enthusiasm and relish. He was, without a doubt, brilliant at it. There were four of us who knew the deal, did our best to avoid 'the shoe' (a soft-soled slipper, the thought of which was much worse than its reality), and shuddered when my mother spoke what to us were The Words Designed to Invoke Great Terror: Wait until your father gets home.

And great terror those words did invoke.

One of the rules my father invented as he went along -- or, more accurately, as we grew up -- was that there were to be no long-distance phone calls. (This was years before the days of cell phones and unlimited long-distance calling.) For my father, paying the phone company a dime more than necessary was a crime of the highest order. Unfortunately, my sister and I had friends beyond our local area code, friends who lived all the way across the bay in San Francisco. Yes, a toll call away. Which, of course, made us criminals once a month, every month.

We'd know when the phone bill arrived because my father would come to the dinner table -- eating together as a family every night was sacrosanct -- with the phone bill sticking well out of his shirt pocket for everyone to see. To build the suspense -- the fear! -- he'd say nothing about the bill during the entire dinner. We'd have a typical, laugh-filled dinner and all would seem right with the world.

Why we'd forgotten that we were in the presence of The Master of the Household, The Maker and Enforcer of the Rules was anyone's guess.

For just when my sister and I began to think about asking to be excused from the table, my father would slowly reach for the bill, languidly open it, peruse its detail painstakingly, and utter a few, quiet statements to himself to make the fear truly palatable ('That was a long call...', 'Who's going to pay for this I wonder...', 'Three calls to the same number in one day, in one day?...', 'Three dollars and fifteen cents in long-distance calls...'). He'd then look up, give my sister and me The Eye and ask, "I thought we agreed not to make long distance calls." In that quiet, measured tone of his that preceded The Wrath of Dad.

Let death come now, I thought. If there's a God, please let death come now.

But that was it. I bit of scolding for making, gasp!, $3.15 worth of toll calls. ('It's not the money', he'd say. 'It's the principle.') Admonishment for using the phone in such a wanton, reckless fashion. Threats of punishment if such irresponsibility continued. And then a curt dismissal from the dinner table.

Dear God, no need to kill me now. I seem to have survived this month's phone bill. Stand by 4 weeks from now. I may need your services then.

That's my dad. A man of principle and a short set of rules. A man who thought paying for chrome fenders on a car was a waste of money because you can't see them while driving. A man who had no use for authority, even though he inflicted it on his children. A man who insisted we come running when he called. A man who only wanted and continues to want the best for his kids. Even if he can't quite form the words to tell us he loves us.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

Let's Talk

Well, that was the week that was. (Anyone old enough to remember TW3? One of the first political humor programs on television. It made my parents laugh and groan, so it must have been good.)

Let's review the curious week that was.

Petrol Sea (once known as the Gulf of Mexico). Not only is oil still pouring into the Gulf, it now appears that BP's original estimates of the amount of oil befouling the water, the wetlands, the beaches and all life in the massive area was a tad low. To say the least. The actual rate is double what was originally thought.

Let's translate: Oil is flowing into the Gulf at a rate equal to the total amount of oil spilled by the Exxon Valdez every 8 - 10 days. As unfathomable as that may be, let it sink in. The Valdez dumped 10.8 million gallons into Alaska's Prince William Sound. An unparalleled disaster, to be sure. Until now. This is far, far beyond that. An estimated 11 million gallons of oil every 8 - 10 days. The Deepwater Horizon rig exploded on April 20. Monday, June 14 is the 56th day. That's at least 5 Exxon Valdez disasters. And counting.

Two questions:

1. Will the Gulf ever recover?

2. Will we ever learn that deep-water oil drilling has HUGE risks, risks that outweigh the potential economic gains? (And don't be confused. It's not about oil independence. It's about profit.)

Let's also not forget that Halliburton is involved and may be, along with BP, directly responsible for the disaster. They helped cement the well. Curious how that company finds its way dubiously into the news. A topic for another time.

University of Superior Compensation (aka, USC). The NCAA finally acted on what many knew to be the truth: USC paid at least one of its football players. Shocking but true! Reggie Bush and family were long-rumored to have been living in a home 'donated' by a USC backer. Rumors of cash trading hands (up to $300,000) were also prevalent. Both have been substantiated. Finally, years later, the NCAA came down on 'SC in a big way. Many games won during the Reggie Bush years will be forfeited, scholarships will be lost, and post-season play will be prohibited for the next two years.

While some congratulate the NCAA on taking action against a powerhouse -- an 800-pound gorilla of college football, to be sure -- others, including TJOW, think otherwise. Why, you ask? Because those who broke the rules will not be punished. Instead, only the innocent will pay for the crimes: Players who weren't even at 'SC at the time will now be kept from post-season play and many will lose scholarships. Pete Carroll, the head coach at the time and now the head coach of the Seattle Seahawks says he knew nothing. USC's athletic director also claims ignorance. Both likely received substantial bonuses following the football team's successes during the Reggie Bush years. And both are untouched by the NCAA's actions.

Way to go, NCAA! It took you too long and you got it wrong. You're 0-2. What a great example you're setting for all of us.

By the way, 'We knew nothing' sounds suspiciously like Bud Selig and those who run Major League Baseball when asked about steroids. Think they and the owners of ball clubs profited handsomely during the years Sammy, Mark and Barry were breaking home run records annually? Of course they did. Handsomely. And of course they 'knew nothing'. How very convenient.

Manning up, beautifully. From error can come humility, even humanity. You've heard the story: Armando Galarraga, of the Detroit Tiger baseball team, was one out away from a perfect game (a game in which no players from the opposing team reach base safely). But it was not to be, as the 1st base umpire, Jim Joyce, ruled wrongly that the 27th and last batter of the perfecto was safe on an infield grounder. A clear mistake, one more significant given that a perfect game is one of the most difficult accomplishments in baseball as evidenced by the fact that only 20 have occurred in the 100+ years of professional baseball.

In many ways, that's when the story begins. And a good story it is. Immediately following the game, Joyce reviewed videotape of the play and realized his mistake. In an act hopefully to be remembered for years, he admitted that he had blown the call. He sought out Galarraga, hugged him, said 'Lo siento' (I'm sorry) and started to cry.

The next day, Galarraga and Joyce met at home plate prior to the game during the exchange of line-up cards. Joyce, with tears in his eyes, shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder.

Imagine that. An error was made, accountability was accepted, a heart-felt apology was issued. In public.

Joyce manned up. Beautifully.

In the midst of this, Galarraga comported himself with grace. He never argued about the call and accepted Joyce's apology. A mensch, to be sure.

Keep this in mind: Mistakes do not define you. What you do immediately afterward does. Credit Oscar Peterson, the brilliant jazz pianist, for this observation.

The Pac-16 or 'So Long, Rose Bowl'. While we're talking sports, the Pac-10 will soon be the Pac-16. Colorado has already committed, Texas, Texas Tech, Oklahoma, and Oklahoma State will likely join the fast-expanding conference. (I know that's only 15 teams, but, never fear, they'll find another. Texas A&M? Hey, Notre Dame?)

Why is this happening? For the same reason anything happens in sports: Money. Yes, even in college sports. In this case, big money from TV.

And the outcome? No way do the California Golden Bears ever get to the Rose Bowl on New Year's Day. They couldn't win the conference when there were only 7 other teams (the Pac-8), they couldn't win it when there were only 9 other teams (the current Pac-10), so why believe they'll ever win it when there are 15 other teams -- and one is USC, another is Texas and another is Oklahoma? Clearly, it will take a miracle of astounding proportions.

For this reason, I rekindle my call for the University of California to disband its football program. If you can't be #1 or #2 in the market, get out. It's time, Cal. Do the right thing. Now.

[Note: Since TJOW went to 'press', both Texas and Oklahoma schools declined invitations to join the Pac-10 (or -11, with Colorado). Not to worry. Cal still won't go to the Rose Bowl.]

Happy Birthday, TJOW! This weeks marks the one-year anniversary of The Job of Work. Thanks to all of you who have frequented the site, those who actually read the blog, those who commented, and those who appreciated the humor, the rants, the observations about the workplace and the events of the day. Your enthusiasm is contagious and continues to fuel the writing.

So, yes, in many ways it's all your fault.

Enjoy the week and, maybe, drive a little less, okay? It's the least we can do.

Man-up

Can't seem to find the strength to return that phone call? Fingers aren't able to type a reply to the e-mail that's been in your inbox for weeks? Promised to get back to someone, but just couldn't muster the will? Having a hard time telling someone the truth?

If so, you're not alone. Bad manners -- or, at the very least, a gross lack of common decency -- seem to be going around these days. Maybe it's the economy.

Or maybe being rude is the new black. You, know, hip.

Call me old fashioned -- you won't be alone! -- but I say enough! Not returning phone calls, ignoring e-mails -- in general, not responding -- truly is bad form. Enough! These times, during which little is going well for many, require all of us to rise up, reach out and overcome our frailties. It's time to take a huge step toward humanity, toward decency and honor, toward a world where people treat each other with dignity and respect as a way of life.

In short, it's time to man-up. And, yes, this includes women, too.

I'm not sure of the origin of this newly-emerging expression, but 'man-up', a verb, appears to refer to the act of taking responsibility for one's actions -- especially when an emotional backbone and internal fortitude (read: guts) are required. Hence, 'Randy manned-up when he told his boss that he had likely caused the damage to the machinery.'

To be sure you have a firm grasp of the concept, please use 'man-up' in a sentence about a woman who missed a deadline, causing the customer to cancel the account. I'll wait.

Okay. Nicely done. See how the expression works for both genders? It may sound gender-specific, but it has broad applicability.

(A quick side-bar. That it's man-up certainly suggests that men, more than woman, have a greater propensity to lack the strength and courage to own up to their own actions. It's not woman-up, after all. Regardless, we'll leave that to another time.)

Back to the topic at hand. I say again: It's time for all of us to man-up. We can't control the economy at home or abroad, the gushing oil in the gulf, international tensions, or the number of obnoxious TV and radio spots for candidates we find repugnant. Actually, come to think of it, there's not much we can control beyond our behavior. So, let's start there. Join me in agreeing to a small set of behaviors -- common decencies, actually -- that will help all of us during these very challenging times. Let's all agree to:

• Return phone calls within 48 hours
• Answer e-mails within 24 hours
• Respond to requests within 48 hours

-- even if the response is "No, sorry.", "I don't know yet, but will know something by [insert specific time here].", or "I wish I could help, but can't."

The operating assumption here is that people would rather be treated respectfully than be ignored. (I know. A wild assumption that.)

Who's with me? Who has the courage to treat others with dignity and respect by doing something so basic as responding to their calls, e-mails and requests promptly? Who will stand with me? Who will man-up?

I'll start. I state, for all to see in cyberspace, that I vow to treat everyone with dignity and respect by answering all calls, e-mails and requests promptly. I will man-up.

Starting sometime next week, sooner if I have the backbone.