目录
- I:
Managing the human resource
人力资源管理
- II:
The Office Environment
办公环境
- III:
The Right People
合适的人选
- IV:
Growing Productive Teams
培养富有成效的团队
- V:
Fertile Soil
肥沃的土壤
- VI:
It’s Supposed to Be Fun to Work Here
在这里工作应该很好玩儿
第一部分 管理人力资源 Managing the human resource
Most of us as managers are prone to one particular failing:
a tendency to manage people as though they were modular components.
It’s obvious enough where this tendency comes from.
Consider the preparation we had for the task of management:
We were judged to be good management material
because we performed well as doers, as technicians and developers.
That often involved organizing our resources into modular pieces,
such as software routines, circuits, or other units of work.
The modules we constructed were made to exhibit a black-box characteristic,
so that their internal idiosyncrasies could be safely ignored.
They were designed to be used with a standard interface.
After years of reliance on these modular methods, small wonder that as
newly promoted managers, we try to manage our human resources the same way.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t work very well.
In Part I, we begin to investigate a very different way of thinking about and managing people.
That way involves specific accommodation to the very
nonmodular character of the human resource.
1 Somewhere Today, a Project Is Failing 某个地方的项目失败了
Since the days when computers first came into common use, there must
have been tens of thousands of accounts receivable programs written.
There are probably a dozen or more accounts receivable projects underway as you read these words.
And somewhere today, one of them is failing.
Imagine that! A project requiring no real technical innovation is going down the tubes.
Accounts receivable is a wheel that’s been reinvented so often that
many veteran developers could stumble through such projects with their eyes closed.
Yet these efforts sometimes still manage to fail.
Suppose that at the end of one of these debacles, you were called upon to perform an autopsy.
(It would never happen, of course;
there is an inviolable industry standard that prohibits examining our failures.)
Suppose, before all the participants had scurried off for cover, you got a
chance to figure out what had gone wrong. One thing you would not find is
that the technology had sunk the project. Safe to say, the state of the art has
advanced sufficiently so that accounts receivable systems are technically possible.
Something else must be the explanation.
During the first decade of our Peopleware project, we conducted annual
surveys of development projects and their results. We’ve measured project
size, cost, defects, acceleration factors, and success or failure in meeting schedules.
Eventually, we accumulated more than five hundred project histories,
all of them from real-world development efforts.
We observe that about 15 percent of all projects studied came to naught:
They were canceled or aborted or “postponed” or they delivered products that
were never used. For bigger projects, the odds are even worse. Fully 25 percent
of projects that lasted 25 work-years or more failed to complete. In the early
surveys, we discarded these failed data points and analyzed the others. Since
1979, though, we’ve been contacting whoever is left of the project staff to find
out what went wrong. For the overwhelming majority of the bankrupt projects
we studied, there was not a single technological issue to explain the failure.
The Name of the Game 这场游戏的名称
The cause of failure most frequently cited by our survey participants was
“politics.” But now observe that people tend to use this word rather sloppily.
Included under “politics” are such unrelated or loosely related things as
communication problems, staffing problems, disenchantment with the boss or
with the client, lack of motivation, and high turnover. People often use the
word politics to describe any aspect of the work that is people-related, but the
English language provides a much more precise term for these effects: They
constitute the project’s sociology.
The truly political problems are a tiny and pathological subset.
If you think of a problem as political in nature, you tend to be fatalistic about it.
You know you can stand up to technical challenges, but honestly,
who among us can feel confident in the realm of politics?
By noting the true nature of a problem as sociological rather than political,
you make it more tractable.
Project and team sociology may be a bit outside your field of expertise, but not beyond your capabilities.
Whatever you name these people-related problems, they’re more likely to
cause you trouble on your next assignment than all the design, implementation, and methodology issues you’ll have to deal with.
In fact, that idea is the underlying thesis of this whole book:
The major problems of our work are not so much technological as sociological in nature.
Most managers are willing to concede the idea that they’ve got more people worries than technical worries.
But they seldom manage that way.
They manage as though technology were their principal concern.
They spend their time puzzling over the most convoluted and most interesting puzzles that
their people will have to solve, almost as though they themselves were going to do the work rather than manage it.
They are forever on the lookout
for a technical whizbang that promises to automate away part of the work
(see Chapter 6, “Laetrile,” for more on this effect).
The most strongly peopleoriented aspects of their responsibility are often given the lowest priority.
Part of this phenomenon is due to the upbringing of the average manager.
He or she was schooled in how the job is done, not how the job is managed.
It’s a rare firm in which new managers have done anything that specifically
indicates an ability or an aptitude for management.
They’ve got little management experience and no meaningful practice.
So how do new managers succeed in convincing themselves that
they can safely spend most of their time thinking technology
and little or no time thinking about the people side of the problem?
The High-Tech Illusion 高科技的幻觉
Perhaps the answer is what we’ve come to think of as the High-Tech Illusion:
the widely held conviction among people who deal with any aspect of new technology
(as who of us does not?) that they are in an intrinsically high-tech business.
They are indulging in the illusion whenever they find
themselves explaining at a cocktail party, say, that they are “in computers,”
or “in telecommunications,” or “in electronic funds transfer.” The implication
is that they are part of the high-tech world. Just between us, they usually
aren’t. The researchers who made fundamental breakthroughs in those areas
are in a high-tech business. The rest of us are appliers of their work. We use
computers and other new technology components to develop our products or
to organize our affairs. Because we go about this work in teams and projects
and other tightly knit working groups, we are mostly in the human communication business.
Our successes stem from good human interactions by all
participants in the effort, and our failures stem from poor human interactions.
The main reason we tend to focus on the technical rather than the human
side of the work is not because it’s more crucial, but because it’s easier to do.
Getting the new disk drive installed is positively trivial compared to figuring
out why Horace is in a blue funk or why Susan is dissatisfied with the company after only a few months.
Human interactions are complicated and never very crisp and clean in their effects,
but they matter more than any other aspect of the work.
高科技的幻觉:广为人知的理论认为,
凡是接触新技术的人(我们谁不是呢?)就被想当然地看做属于高科技领域。
只有从事基础研究、获得根本性突破的科研人员才是高科技工作者,
其他人只是在运用他们的研究成果。
由于我们以团队、项目或者其他紧密协作工作小组的形式来完成工作,
我们大多数人是在从事人类交流的职业。
我们的成功源自于所有参与者良好的人与人之间的互动,
我们的失败则归因于这种互动的缺失。
我们习惯性地专注于工作中的技术问题,主因并非它们重要,而是因为它们更简单。
安装一块新的硬盘,比寻思为何Horace显得忧郁而恐慌,Suan入职几个月就对公司不满意要容易得多。
If you find yourself concentrating on the technology rather than the sociology,
you’re like the vaudeville character who loses his keys on a dark street
and looks for them on the adjacent street because,
as he explains, “The light is better there.”
倘若你发现自己更加关注技术问题而非社会问题,那你就像是一名杂耍演员,
在一条昏暗的街道丢失了钥匙,却逡巡至邻近的街道去寻找,并美其名曰:“那里的灯光更明亮。”
2 Make a Cheeseburger, Sell a Cheeseburger
Development is inherently different from production. But managers
of development and allied efforts often allow their thinking to be
shaped by a management philosophy derived entirely from a production environment.
Imagine for the moment that you’re the manager of the local fast food franchise.
It makes perfect sense for you to take any or all of the following efficient production measures:
• Squeeze out error. Make the machine (the human machine) run as smoothly as possible.
• Take a hard line about people goofing off on the job.
• Treat workers as interchangeable pieces of the machine.
• Optimize the steady state. (Don’t even think about
how the operation got up to speed, or what it would take to close it down.)
• Standardize procedure. Do everything by the book.
• Eliminate experimentation — that’s what the folks at headquarters are paid for.
These would be reasonable approaches if you were in the fast food business (or any production environment), but you’re not.
The “make a cheeseburger, sell a cheeseburger” mentality can be fatal in your development area.
It can only serve to damp your people’s spirits and focus their attention away
from the real problems at hand.
This style of management will be directly at odds with the work.
To manage thinking workers effectively,
you need to take measures nearly opposite those listed above.
Our proposed opposite approaches are described in the following sections.
A Quota for Errors
For most thinking workers, making an occasional mistake is a natural and
healthy part of their work. But there can be an almost Biblical association
between error on the job and sin. This is an attitude we need to take specific
pains to change.
Speaking to a group of software managers, we introduced a strategy for
what we think of as iterative design. The idea is that some designs are intrinsically defect-prone; they ought to be rejected, not repaired. Such dead ends
should be expected in the design activity. The lost effort of the dead end is a
small price to pay for a clean, fresh start. To our surprise, many managers felt
this would pose an impossible political problem for their own bosses: “How
can we throw away a product that our company has paid to produce?” They
seemed to believe that they’d be better off salvaging the defective version
even though it might cost more in the long run.
Fostering an atmosphere that doesn’t allow for error simply makes people
defensive. They don’t try things that may turn out badly. You encourage this
defensiveness when you try to systematize the process, when you impose
rigid methodologies so that staff members are not allowed to make any of the
key strategic decisions lest they make them incorrectly. The average level of
technology may be modestly improved by any steps you take to inhibit error.
The team sociology, however, can suffer grievously.
The opposite approach would be to encourage people to make some errors.
You do this by asking your folks on occasion what dead-end roads they’ve
been down, and by making sure they understand that “none” is not the best
answer. When people blow it, they should be congratulated—that’s part of
what they’re being paid for.
Management: The Bozo Definition
Management is a complex enough thing to defy simple definition, but that
nuance was lost on one senior manager we encountered at a professional
society meeting in London. He summed up his entire view of the subject with
this statement: “Management is kicking ass.” This equates to the view that
managers provide all the thinking and the people underneath them just carry
out their bidding. Again, that might be workable for cheeseburger production,
but not for any effort for which people do the work with their heads rather
than their hands. Everyone in such an environment has got to have the brain
in gear. You may be able to kick people to make them active, but not to make
them creative, inventive, and thoughtful.
Even if kicking people in the backside did boost their short-term productivity, it might not be useful in the long run: There is nothing more discouraging to any worker than the sense that his own motivation is inadequate and
has to be “supplemented” by that of the boss.
The saddest thing about this management approach is that it’s almost always superfluous. You seldom need to take Draconian measures to keep your
people working; most of them love their work. You may even have to take
steps sometimes to make them work less, and thus get more meaningful work
done (more about this idea in Chapter 3, “Vienna Waits for You”).
The People Store
In a production environment, it’s convenient to think of people as parts of the machine.
When a part wears out, you get another.
The replacement part is interchangeable with the original.
You order a new one, more or less, by number.
Many development managers adopt the same attitude.
They go to great lengths to convince themselves that no one is irreplaceable.
Because they fear that a key person will leave,
they force themselves to believe that there is no such thing as a key person.
Isn’t that the essence of management, after all,
to make sure that the work goes on whether the individuals stay or not?
They act as though there were a magical People Store they could call up and say,
“Send me a new George Gardenhyer, but make him a little less uppity.”
One of my clients brought a splendid employee into a salary review and was just
amazed that the fellow wanted something other than money. He said that he
often had good ideas at home but that his slow Internet connection was a real
bother to use. Couldn’t the company install a new line into his house and buy him
a high-performance workstation? The company could. In subsequent years, it even
built and furnished a small home office for the fellow. But my client is an unusual
case. I wonder what a less-perceptive manager would have done.
Too many managers are threatened by anything their workers do to assert their individuality.
—TRL
One example of just such a less-perceptive manager was a boss who showed
extreme signs of being threatened by his people’s individuality: He had one very
talented worker on the road for much of the year visiting client sites and, as a
result, living on an expense account. An analysis of the man’s expense reports
showed that his expenditures on food were way out of line with those of other
travelers. He spent 50 percent more on food than the others did. In an indignant
public memo, the boss branded the worker a “food criminal.” Now, the worker’s
total expenditures weren’t out of line; whatever extra he spent on food, he saved
on something else. The man was not more expensive, he was just different.
The uniqueness of every worker is a continued annoyance to the manager
who has blindly adopted a management style from the production world.
The natural people manager, on the other hand, realizes that
uniqueness is what makes project chemistry vital and effective.
It’s something to be cultivated.
A Project in Steady State Is Dead
Steady-state production thinking is particularly ill-suited to project work.
We tend to forget that a project’s entire purpose in life is to put itself out of business.
The only steady state in the life of a project is rigor mortis.
Unless you’re riding herd on a canceled or about-to-be-canceled project,
the entire focus of project management ought to be the dynamics of the development effort.
Yet the way we assess people’s value to a new project
is often based on their steady-state characteristics:
how much code they can write or how much documentation they can produce.
We pay far too little attention to how well each of them fits into the effort as a whole.
I was teaching an in-house design course some years ago, when one of the upper
managers buttonholed me to request that I assess some of the people in the
course (his project staff). He was particularly curious about one woman. It was
obvious he had his doubts about her: “I don’t quite see what she adds to a project;
she’s not a great developer or tester or much of anything.” With a little investigation, I turned up this intriguing fact: During her 12 years at the company, the
woman in question had never worked on a project that had been anything other
than a huge success. It wasn’t obvious what she was adding, but projects always
succeeded when she was around. After watching her in class for a week and talking to some of her co-workers, I came to the conclusion that she was a superb
catalyst. Teams naturally jelled better when she was there. She helped people
communicate with each other and get along. Projects were more fun when she
was part of them. When I tried to explain this idea to the manager, I struck out.
He just didn’t recognize the role of catalyst as essential to a project.
—TDM
The catalyst is important because the project is always in a state of flux.
Someone who can help a project to jell is worth two people who just do work.
We Haven’t Got Time to Think about This Job, Only to Do It
If you are charged with getting a task done,
what proportion of your time ought to be dedicated to actually doing the task?
Not 100 percent. There ought to be some provision for brainstorming, investigating new methods,
figuring out how to avoid doing some of the subtasks, reading, training, and just goofing off.
Looking back over our own years as managers,
we’ve both concluded that we were off-track on this subject.
We spent far too much of our time trying to get things done
and not nearly enough time asking the key question, “Ought this thing to be done at all?”
The steady-state cheeseburger mentality barely even pays lip service to the idea of thinking on the job.
Its every inclination is to push the effort into 100-percent do-mode.
If an excuse is needed for the lack of think-time, the excuse is always time pressure
— as though there were ever work to be done without time pressure.
The importance of a more considered approach goes up sharply as the stakes increase.
It’s when the truly Herculean effort is called for that we have
to learn to do work less of the time and think about the work more.
The more heroic the effort required,
the more important it is that the team members learn to interact well and enjoy it.
The project that has to be done by an impossible fixed date is the very one that can’t afford
not to have frequent brainstorms and even a project dinner
or some such affair to help the individual participants knit into an effective whole.
But all that is motherhood. Everybody knows that and acts accordingly,
right? Wrong.
We are so single-mindedly oriented toward Doing Something,
Anything that we spend a scant 5 percent of our time on the combined
activities of planning, investigating new methods, training, reading books,
estimating, budgeting, scheduling, and allocating personnel.
(The 5-percent figure comes from an analysis of system development projects,
but it seems to apply more broadly than that,
perhaps to the entire category of salaried workers.)
The statistics about reading are particularly discouraging:
The average software developer, for example, doesn’t own a single book on the subject of
his or her work, and hasn’t ever read one.
That fact is horrifying for anyone concerned about the quality of work in the field;
for folks like us who write books, it is positively tragic.
3 Vienna Waits for You
Some years ago, I was swapping war stories with the manager of a large project
in Southern California. He began to relate the effect that his project and its crazy
hours had had on his staff. There were two divorces that he could trace directly
to the overtime his people were putting in, and one of his worker’s kids had gotten into some kind of trouble with drugs, probably because his father had been
too busy for parenting during the past year. Finally, there had been the nervous
breakdown of the test-team leader.
As he continued through these horrors, I began to realize that in his own
strange way, the man was bragging. You might suspect that with another divorce
or two and a suicide, the project would have been a complete success, at least in
his eyes.
—TDM
For all the talk about “working smarter,” there is a widespread sense
that what real-world management is all about is getting people to work
harder and longer, largely at the expense of their personal lives. Managers are forever tooting their horns about the quantity of overtime their
people put in, and the tricks one can use to get even more out of them.
Spanish Theory Management
Historians long ago formed an abstraction about different theories of value:
The Spanish Theory, for one, held that
only a fixed amount of value existed on earth, and therefore
the path to the accumulation of wealth was to learn to extract it more efficiently
from the soil or from people’s backs.
Then there to extract it more efficiently from the soil or from people’s backs.
Then there was the English Theory that held that value could be created through ingenuity and technology.
So the English had an Industrial Revolution,
while the Spanish spun their wheels trying to exploit the land and the Indians in the New World.
They moved huge quantities of gold across the ocean,
and all they got for their effort was enormous inflation
(too much gold money chasing too few usable goods).
The Spanish Theory of Value is alive and well among managers everywhere.
You see that whenever they talk about productivity.
Productivity ought to mean achieving more in an hour of work,
but all too often it has come to mean extracting more for an hour of pay.
There is a large difference.
The Spanish Theory managers dream of attaining new productivity levels through the simple mechanism of unpaid overtime.
They divide whatever work is done in a week by forty hours,
not by the eighty or ninety hours that the worker actually put in.
That’s not exactly productivity—it’s more like fraud
—but it’s the state of the art for many American managers.
They bully and cajole their people into long hours.
They impress upon them how important the delivery date is (even though it may be totally arbitrary;
the world isn’t going to stop just because a project completes a month late).
They trick them into accepting hopelessly tight schedules,
shame them into sacrificing any and all to meet the deadline,
and do anything to get them to work longer and harder.
And Now a Word from the Home Front
Although your staff may be exposed to the message “work longer and harder”
while they’re at the office, they’re getting a very different message at home.
The message at home is, “Life is passing you by.
Your laundry is piling up in the closet, your babies are uncuddled,
your spouse is starting to look elsewhere.
There is only one time around on this merry-go-round called life,
only one shot at the brass ring. And if you use your life up on... .”
But you know when the truth is told,
That you can get what you want or you can just get old.
You’re going to kick off before you even get halfway through.
When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?
—Billy Joel, “The Stranger”
The Vienna that waits for you, in Billy Joel’s phrase, is the last stop on your personal itinerary.
When you get there, it’s all over. If you think your
project members never worry about such weighty matters, think again.
Your people are very aware of the one short life that each person is allotted.
And they know too well that there has got to be something more
important than the silly job they’re working on.
There Ain’t No Such Thing as Overtime
Overtime for salaried workers is a figment of the naïve manager’s imagination.
Oh, there might be some benefit in a few extra hours worked on Saturday to meet a Monday deadline,
but that’s almost always followed by an equal period of compensatory “undertime”
while the workers catch up with their lives.
Throughout the effort, there will be more or less an hour of undertime for every hour of overtime.
The trade-off might work to your advantage for the short term,
but for the long term it will cancel out.
Slow down you crazy child,
And take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while.
It’s all right. You can afford to lose a day or two.
When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?
Just as the unpaid overtime was largely invisible to the Spanish Theory
manager (who always counts the week as forty hours regardless of how much
time the people put in), so too is the undertime invisible. You never see it on
anybody’s time sheet. It’s time spent on the phone or in bull sessions or just resting.
Nobody can really work much more than forty hours,
at least not continually and with the level of intensity required for creative intellectual work.
Overtime is like sprinting: It makes some sense for the last hundred yards
of the marathon for those with any energy left, but if you start sprinting in
the first mile, you’re just wasting time. Trying to get people to sprint too
much can only result in loss of respect for the manager. The best workers
have been through it all before; they know enough to keep silent and roll
their eyes while the manager raves on that the job has got to get done by
April. Then they take their compensatory undertime when they can, and end
up putting in forty hours of real work each week.
The best workers react that way; the others are workaholics.
Workaholics
Workaholics will put in uncompensated overtime.
They’ll work extravagant hours, though perhaps with declining effectiveness.
Put them under enough pressure and they will go a long way toward spoiling their personal lives.
But only for a while. Sooner or later,
the message comes through to even the most dedicated workaholic:
Slow down, you’re doing fine,
You can’t be everything you want to be before your time.
Although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight.
But when will you realize... Vienna waits for you?
Once that idea is digested, the worker is lost forever after to the project.
The realization that one has sacrificed a more important value (family, love, home,
youth) for a less important value (work) is devastating.
It makes the person who has unwittingly sacrificed seek revenge.
He doesn’t go to the boss and explain calmly and thoughtfully that
things have to change in the future — he just quits, another case of burnout.
One way or the other, he’s gone.
Workaholism is an illness, but not an illness like alcoholism that affects
only the unlucky few. Workaholism is more like the common cold: Everyone
has a bout of it now and then. Our purpose in writing about it here is not so
much to discuss its causes and cures, but to address the simpler problem of
how you, the manager, ought to deal with your workaholics. If you exploit
them to the hilt in typical Spanish Theory fashion, you’ll eventually lose
them. No matter how desperately you need them to put in all those hours, you
can’t let them do so at the expense of their personal lives. The loss of a good
person isn’t worth it. This point goes beyond the narrow area of workaholism,
into the much more complex subject of meaningful productivity.
Productivity: Winning Battles and Losing Wars
Next time you hear someone talking about productivity, listen carefully to
hear if the speaker ever uses the term “employee turnover.” Chances are that
he or she will not.
In years of hearing productivity discussed and in hundreds of articles about it,
we have never encountered a single expert that had anything to say about the related subject of turnover.
But what sense can it possibly make to discuss one without the other?
Consider some of the things that organizations typically do to improve productivity:
• Pressure people to put in more hours.
• Mechanize the process of product development.
• Compromise the quality of the product (more about this in the next chapter).
• Standardize procedures.
Any of these measures can potentially make the work less enjoyable and less interesting.
Hence, the process of improving productivity risks motivating
employees to look for more satisfying work elsewhere. That doesn’t say you
can’t improve productivity without paying a turnover price.
It only says you need to take turnover into account
whenever you set out to attain higher productivity.
Otherwise, you may achieve an “improvement”
that is more than offset by the loss of your key people.
Most organizations don’t even keep statistics on turnover.
Virtually none can tell you what replacement of an experienced worker costs.
And whenever productivity is considered, it is done as though turnover were nonexistent or cost-free.
The Eagle project at Data General was a case in point.
The project was a Spanish Theory triumph: Workaholic project members put in endless
unpaid overtime hours to push productivity to unheard of levels.
At the end of the project, virtually the entire development staff quit.
What was the cost of that? No one even figured it into the equation.
Productivity has to be defined as benefit divided by cost.
The benefit is observed dollar savings and revenue from the work performed,
and cost is the total cost, including replacement of any workers used up by the effort.
Reprise
One of my early consults was a project that was proceeding so smoothly that
the project manager knew she would deliver the product on schedule. She was
summoned in front of the management committee and was asked for a progress
report. She said she could guarantee that her product would be ready by the
deadline of March 1, exactly on time according to the original estimate. The upper
managers chewed over that piece of unexpected good news and then called her in
again the next day. Since she was on time for March 1, they explained, the deadline had been moved up to January 15.
—TRL
A schedule that the project could actually meet was of no value to those
Spanish Theory managers, because it didn’t put the people under pressure.
Better to have a hopelessly impossible schedule to extract more labor from the workers.
Chances are, you’ve known one or more Spanish Theory managers during your career.
It’s all very well to smile at their short-sightedness,
but don’t let yourself off the hook too easily.
Each of us has succumbed at one time or another
to the short-term tactic of putting people under pressure to get them to work harder.
In order to do this, we have to ignore their decreased effectiveness and the resultant turnover,
but ignoring bad side effects is easy.
What’s not so easy is keeping in mind an inconvenient truth like this one:
People under time pressure don’t work better—they just work faster.
In order to work faster,
they may have to sacrifice the quality of the product and of their own work experience.
4 Quality—If Time Permits
Twentieth-century psychological theory holds that
man’s character is dominated by a small number of basic instincts:
survival, self-esteem, reproduction, territory, and so forth.
These are built directly into the brain’s firmware.
You can consider these instincts intellectually without great passion (that’s what you’re doing now),
but when you feel them, there is always passion involved.
Even the slightest challenge to one of these built-in values can be upsetting.
Whenever strong emotions are aroused, it’s an indication that one of the
brain’s instinctive values has been threatened. A novice manager may believe
that work can be completed without people’s emotions ever getting involved,
but if you have any experience at all as a manager, you have learned the opposite.
Our work gives us plenty of opportunity to exercise the emotions.
Chances are, you can think of at least one incident when a person’s emotions did flare up as a direct result of something purely work-related.
Consider that incident now and ask yourself (probably for the nth time),
Where did all the emotion come from?
Without knowing anything about your specific incident,
we’re willing to bet that threatened self-esteem was a factor.
There may be many and varied causes of emotional reaction in one’s personal life,
but in the workplace, the major arouser of emotions is threatened self-esteem.
We all tend to tie our self-esteem strongly to the quality of the product we produce
—not the quantity of product, but the quality. (For some reason, there
is little satisfaction in turning out huge amounts of mediocre stuff, although
that may be just what’s required for a given situation.) Any step you take that
may jeopardize the quality of the product is likely to set the emotions of your
staff directly against you.
The Flight from Excellence
Managers jeopardize product quality by setting unreachable deadlines.
They don’t think about their action in such terms; they think rather that what
they’re doing is throwing down an interesting challenge to their workers,
something to help them strive for excellence.
Experienced (jaded) workers know otherwise.
They know that under the gun, their efforts will be overconstrained.
There will be no freedom to trade off resources to make on-time delivery possible.
They won’t have the option of more people or reduced function.
The only thing to give on will be quality. Workers kept under extreme time pressure will begin to sacrifice quality.
They will push problems under the rug to be dealt with later or foisted off
onto the product’s end user.
They will deliver products that are unstable and not really complete.
They will hate what they’re doing, but what other choice do they have?
The hard-nosed, real-world manager part of you has an answer to all this:
“Some of my folks would tinker forever with a task, all in the name of ‘Quality.’
But the market doesn’t give a damn about that much quality
— it’s screaming for the product to be delivered yesterday
and will accept it even in a quick-and-dirty state.”
In many cases, you may be right about the market,
but the decision to pressure people into delivering a product
that doesn’t measure up to their own quality standards is almost always a mistake.
We managers tend to think of quality as just another attribute of the product,
something that may be supplied in varying degrees according to
the needs of the marketplace.
It’s like the chocolate sauce you pour onto a homemade sundae:
more for people who want more, and less for people who want less.
The builders’ view of quality, on the other hand, is very different.
Since their self-esteem is strongly tied to the quality of the product,
they tend to impose quality standards of their own.
The minimum that will satisfy them is
more or less the best quality they have achieved in the past.
This is invariably a higher standard than what the market requires and is willing to pay for.
“But the market doesn’t give a damn about that much quality.”
Read those words and weep, because they are almost always true. People may
talk in glowing terms about quality or complain bitterly about its absence,
but when it comes time to pay the price for quality, their true values become apparent.
On a software project, for instance, you might be able to
make the following kind of presentation to your users: “We can extrapolate
from empirical evidence that the Mean Time Between Failures for this product is now approximately 1.2 hours. So, if we deliver it to you today, on
time, it will have very poor stability. If we put in another three weeks, we
can forecast MTBF of approximately two thousand hours, a rather respectable result.”
Expect to see some Olympic-class hemming and hawing.
The users will explain that they are as quality-conscious as the next fellow,
but three weeks is real money.
Speaking of software, that industry has accustomed its clients to accept
in-house-developed application programs with an average defect density of
one to three defects per hundred lines of code!
With sublime irony, this disastrous record is often blamed on poor quality consciousness of the builders.
That is, those same folks who are chided for being inclined to “tinker forever
with a program, all in the name of ‘Quality’” are also getting blamed when
quality is low. Let’s put the blame where it belongs. He who pays the piper is
calling for a low-quality tune. By regularly putting the development process
under extreme time pressure and then accepting poor-quality products, the
software user community has shown its true quality standard.
All of this may sound like a diatribe against software users and against the
standards of the marketplace in general, but it needn’t be taken that way. We
have to assume that the people who pay for our work are of sound enough
mind to make a sensible trade-off between quality and cost. The point here
is that the client’s perceived needs for quality in the product are often not as
great as those of the builder. There is a natural conflict. Reducing the quality
of a product is likely to cause some people not to buy, but the reduced market
penetration that results from virtually any such quality reduction will often
be more than offset by increased profit on each item sold.
Allowing the standard of quality to be set by the buyer, rather than the
builder, is what we call the flight from excellence. A market-derived quality
standard seems to make good sense only as long as you ignore the effect on
the builder’s attitude and effectiveness.
In the long run, market-based quality costs more. The lesson here is,
Quality, far beyond that required by the end user, is a means to higher productivity.
If you doubt that notion, imagine the following gedankenexperiment: Ask
a hundred people on the street what organization or culture or nation is famous for high quality. We predict that more than half the people today would
answer, “Japan.” Now ask a different hundred people what organization or
culture or nation is famous for high productivity. Again, the majority can be
expected to mention, “Japan.” The nation that is an acknowledged quality
leader is also known for its high productivity.
Wait a minute. How is it possible that higher quality coexists with higher
productivity? That flies in the face of the common wisdom that adding quality
to a product means you pay more to build it. For a clue, read the words of
Tajima and Matsubara, two of the most respected commentators on the Japanese phenomenon:
The trade-off between price and quality does not exist in Japan.
Rather, the idea that high quality brings on cost reduction is widely accepted.
Quality Is Free, But...
Philip Crosby presented this same concept in his book Quality Is Free, published in 1979. In this work, Crosby gave numerous examples and a sound
rationale for the idea that letting the builder set a satisfying quality standard
of his own will result in a productivity gain sufficient to offset the cost of
improved quality.
We have an awful inkling that Crosby’s book has done more harm than
good in industry. The problem is that the great majority of managers haven’t
read it, but everybody has heard the title. The title has become the whole message.
Managers everywhere are enthusing over quality: “The sky’s the limit
for quality, we’ll have as much free quality as we can get!” This hardly boils
down to a positive quality consciousness. The attitude is just the opposite of
what Crosby advocates.
The real message of the linked quality and productivity effects needs to be
presented in slightly different terms:
Quality is free, but only to those who are willing to pay heavily for it.
The organization that is willing to budget only zero dollars and zero cents
for quality will always get its money’s worth. A policy of “Quality—If Time
Permits” will assure that no quality at all sneaks into the product.
Hewlett-Packard has long been an example of an organization that reaps
the benefits from increased productivity due to high, builder-set quality standards. From its beginning, the company has made a cult of quality. In such
an environment, the argument that more time or money is needed to produce
a high-quality product is generally not heard. The result is that developers know they are part of a culture that delivers quality beyond what the
marketplace requires. Their sense of quality identification works for increased
job satisfaction and some of the lowest turnover figures seen anywhere in the industry.
Power of Veto
In some Japanese companies, notably Hitachi Software and parts of Fujitsu,
the project team has an effective power of veto over delivery of what they
believe to be a not-yet-ready product. No matter that the client would be
willing to accept even a substandard product, the team can insist that delivery wait until its own standards are achieved. Of course, project managers
are under the same pressure there that they are here: They’re being pressed to
deliver something, anything, right away. But enough of a quality culture has
been built up so that these Japanese managers know better than to bully their
workers into settling for lower quality.
Could you give your people power of veto over delivery? Of course, it
would take nerves of steel, at least the first time. Your principal concern
would be that Parkinson’s Law would be working against you.
That’s an important enough subject to warrant a chapter of its own.
营造一个不容许任何失误的氛围会让大家持有戒心。他们不愿去尝试那些有可能变坏的事情。
在不允许犯错的规定下,或许平均的技术水平会稳步提高,但团队的社会氛围却会遭受可悲的伤害。
你根本不需要使用严格的度量来促使大家工作——大部分人是热爱他们的工作的。
你有时可能需要采取一些手段让大家少工作一会儿,这样就可以做一些更有意义的工作。
她就是一个超级催化剂。她的存在使得团队内部更有黏度。
她帮助团队成员互相交流和相处,有她的项目会变得更加有趣。
项目需要的投入越夸张,成员就越应该学习如何更好地协作,对这份工作的热爱也会变得更重要。
项目越是需要在一个无法完成的固定时间交付,项目团队就越不能缺乏频繁的头脑风暴,
或者项目组聚餐之类的活动来帮助团队形成一个统一的整体。
每加班一个小时,就需要一个或更多个小时的地下时间(指在工作时间做着与工作无关的事情)。
压力不会让人工作得更好——只是工作得更快。 为了工作快点,他们不得不牺牲产品质量以及自身的工作体验。
当员工处于极度的时间压力之下时,质量就开始被牺牲了。
他们会把问题藏到脚垫下面,或者直接扔给产品的最终用户。
他们交付的产品是不稳定、不完整的。他们会讨厌自己做的事情,但能有什么选择呢?
生产人员的自尊来自于产品质量,所以会有自己的一套质量标准。
对他们而言,要让自己满意,最低标准就是要达到过去做过的最好质量。这当然比市场要求并愿意为之付出的标准更高。
一旦质量降低,那些别责怪做事修修补补永无止境的员工就成了质量问题的罪人。
还是让我们把这样的责备转到别处吧!
花钱的人说了算,他们已经定下了低质量的基调:
把开发流程经常性地置于极度压力下,同时又接受低质量的产品,软件用户群体展现了“真正”的质量标准。
只有愿意为质量倾其所有的人,质量才是免费的。
“质量——如果时间允许”这种策略会导致产品不会有任何质量可言。
5 Parkinson’s Law Revisited
Writing in 1954, the British author C. Northcote Parkinson introduced the notion that work expands to fill the time allocated for it,
now known as Parkinson’s Law.
If you didn’t know that few managers receive any management training
at all, you might think there was a school they all went to for an intensive
course on Parkinson’s Law and its ramifications. Even managers that know
they know nothing about management nonetheless cling to that
one axiomatic truth governing people and their attitude toward work: Parkinson’s Law.
It gives them the strongest possible conviction that the only way to get work
done at all is to set an impossibly optimistic delivery date.
Parkinson’s Law and Newton’s Law
Parkinson’s Law is a long way from being axiomatic. It’s not a law in the
same sense that Newton’s law is a law. Newton was a scientist. He investigated the gravitational effect according to the strictest scientific method. His
law was only propounded after rigorous verification and testing. It has stood
the test of several centuries of subsequent study.
Parkinson was not a scientist. He collected no data; he probably didn’t
even understand the rules of statistical inference.
Parkinson was a humorist. His “law” didn’t catch on because it was so true.
It caught on because it was funny.
humorist n. 幽默家, 幽默作家
Of course, Parkinson’s Law wouldn’t be funny if there weren’t a germ of truth in it.
Parkinson cites examples of his law as observed in a fictitious
government bureaucracy, some believe patterned on the British Post Office.
Bureaucracies are prone to such problems, because they give little job-derived
satisfaction to their workers. But you probably don’t work in a bureaucracy.
Even if you do, you go to great lengths to make sure that your people are
spared its effects; otherwise, they’d never get anything done. The result is that
your people have the possibility of lots of job-derived satisfaction. That leads
to a simple truth worth stating:
Parkinson’s Law almost certainly doesn’t apply to your people.
Their lives are just too short to allow too much loafing on the job.
Since they enjoy their work, they are disinclined to let it drag on forever
—that would just delay the satisfaction they all hanker for.
They are as eager as you are to get the job done,
provided only that they don’t have to compromise their standard of quality.
You Wouldn’t Be Saying This If You’d Ever Met Our Herb
Every manager, at least some time in his or her life, has to deal with a
worker who does seem to be avoiding work, or who seems to have no standard of quality, or who just can’t get the job done.
Doesn’t that confirm Parkinson’s Law?
In a healthy work environment,
the reasons that some people don’t perform are lack of competence, lack of confidence,
and lack of affiliation with others on the project and the project goals.
In none of these cases is schedule pressure liable to help very much.
When a worker seems unable to perform
and seems not to care at all about the quality of his work, for example, it is
a sure sign that the poor fellow is overwhelmed by the difficulty of the work.
He doesn’t need more pressure. What he needs is reassignment, possibly to another company.
Even on the rare occasion when leaning on someone is the only option,
the manager is the last person to do the leaning. It works far better when the
message comes from the team. We’ve seen cases of well-knit teams in which
the manager would have had to get in line to yell at the one person who
wasn’t pulling along with everyone else.
We’ll have more to say in later chapters about teams and building a sensible chemistry for team formation.
The point here is not what does work, but what doesn’t:
Treating your people as Parkinsonian workers doesn’t work.
It can only demean and demotivate them.
Some Data from the University of New South Wales
Of course, the Parkinson’s Law mentality is not going to go away just because we say it ought to.
What would help to convert managers would be some
carefully collected data proving that Parkinson’s Law doesn’t apply to most
workers. (Forget for a moment that Parkinson supplied no data at all to prove
that the law did apply, he just reiterated it for a few hundred pages.)
Two respected researchers at the University of New South Wales, Michael
Lawrence and Ross Jeffery, ran annual surveys through the eighties and nineties.
They measured live projects in industry according to a common data
collection standard. Each year they focused on a different aspect of project
work. The 1985 survey provided some data that reflects on the inapplicability
of Parkinson’s Law. It isn’t exactly the “smoking gun” that completely invalidates the law, but it ought to be sufficient to raise some doubts.
Lawrence and Jeffery set out to determine the productivity effect of various estimating methods. They had in mind to prove (or disprove) the folkloric
belief that developers (programmers, in this case) work harder if they’re trying
to meet their own estimates. For each of 103 projects studied, Lawrence and
Jeffery calculated a weighted metric of productivity. They then grouped the
sample into subgroups, depending on how the original estimates were made.
A partial result is presented in Table 5–1.
So far, the results confirm the folklore: Programmers seem to be a bit more
productive after they’ve done the estimate themselves, compared to cases in
which the manager did it without even consulting them. When the two did
the estimating together, the results tended to fall in between.
In 21 projects studied that same year, estimates were prepared by a third
party, typically a systems analyst. The developers in these cases substantially
outperformed the projects in which estimating was done by a programmer
and/or a supervisor (see Table 5–2).
These last data points do not confirm the folkloric view at all. Why should
the programmers work harder to meet the analyst’s estimate than they would
for even their own? It may be tempting to explain this away as a simple
anomaly in the data.
TABLE 5–1 Productivity by Estimation Approach (Partial Result)
Effort Estimate Prepared by Average Productivity Number of Projects
Programmer alone 8.0 19
Supervisor alone 6.6 3
Programmer & supervisor 7.8 16
TABLE 5–2 Productivity by Estimation Approach (Partial Result)
Effort Estimate Prepared by Average Productivity Number of Projects
Programmer alone 8.0 19
Supervisor alone 6.6 23
Programmer & supervisor 7.8 16
Systems analyst 9.5 21
But if you believe as we do that bad estimates are always a demotivating factor,
then this data doesn’t need explaining away at all.
The systems analyst tends to be a better estimator than either the programmer or the supervisor.
He or she typically knows the work in as much detail,
but is not hampered by the natural optimism of the person who’s actually going to do the job or the political and budgetary biases of the boss.
Moreover, systems analysts typically have more estimating experience; they
are able to project the effort more accurately because they’ve done more of it
in the past and have thus learned their lessons.
Bad estimates, hopelessly tight estimates, sap the builders’ energy. Capers
Jones, known for his metric studies of development projects, puts it this way:
“When the schedule for a project is totally unreasonable and unrealistic, and
no amount of overtime can allow it to be made, the project team becomes
angry and frustrated... and morale drops to the bottom.”
It doesn’t matter too terribly much whether the “totally unreasonable and unrealistic” schedule
comes from the boss or from the builders themselves. People just don’t work
very effectively when they’re locked into a no-win situation.
The most surprising part of the 1985 Jeffery-Lawrence study appeared at
the very end, when they investigated the productivity of 24 projects for which
no estimates were prepared at all. These projects far outperformed all the others (see Table 5–3).
Projects on which the boss applied no schedule pressure whatsoever (“Just
wake me up when you’re done.”) had the highest productivity of all.
Of course, none of this proves that Parkinson’s Law doesn’t apply to development workers.
But doesn’t it make you wonder?
The decision to apply schedule pressure to a project needs to be made in
much the same way you decide whether or not to punish your child:
If punishment is rare and your timing is impeccable so the justification is easily apparent,
then maybe it can help.
If you do it all the time, it’s just a sign that you’ve got problems of your own.
TABLE 5–3 Productivity by Estimation Approach (Full Result)
Effort Estimate Prepared by Average Productivity Number of Projects
Programmer alone 8.0 19
Supervisor alone 6.6 23
Programmer & supervisor 7.8 16
Systems analyst 9.5 21
(No estimate) 12.0 24
Variation on a Theme by Parkinson
A slight variation on Parkinson’s Law produces something that is frighteningly true in many organizations:
Organizational busy work tends to expand to fill the working day.
This effect can start when the company is founded, and become worse
every year. If the Dutch East India Company (founded in 1651 and once the
largest company in the world) were still around, its employees might well be
spending forty hours a week filling in forms. Notice that in this case, it’s the
company that exhibits Parkinsonian behavior rather than its employees.
We’ll return to this theme in Part II.
6 Laetrile
Laetrile is a colorless liquid pressed from the soft bitter insides of apricot pits.
In Sweden, you can buy the stuff in the grocery store for about the
price of almond extract, and you use it in baking much as you would any
other extract. In Mexico, you can buy it for fifty dollars a drop to “cure” your fatal cancer. Of course, it doesn’t cure anything. All the evidence demonstrates that
it is a cruel fraud. But since no one else has anything at all to offer them, some
terminal patients accept the claims of the laetrile peddlers, no matter how outrageous. People who are desperate enough don’t look very hard at the evidence.
Similarly, lots of managers are “desperate enough,” and their desperation
makes them easy victims of a kind of technical laetrile that purports to improve productivity.
There is seldom any evidence at all to support the claims of what they buy.
They, too, dispense with evidence because their need is so great.
Lose Fat While Sleeping
One day, in a moment of high silliness, I started clipping ads for products that
claimed to boost productivity by 100 percent or more. Within a very short time, I
had quite a pile. The amazing thing was the diversity of the means advertised to
yield big productivity gains. There were seminars, packaged programs, methodologies, books, scheduling boards, hardware monitors, computing languages, and
newsletters. Going uptown on the subway that night, I spotted one final ad on
the back of the New York Post. It read, “Lose Fat While Sleeping.”
It seemed to fit right in with the others.
—TRL
We’re all under a lot of pressure to improve productivity. The problem is
no longer susceptible to easy solutions,
because all the easy solutions were thought of and applied long ago.
Yet some organizations are doing a lot better than others.
We’re convinced that those who do better are not using any
particularly advanced technology. Their better performance can be explained
entirely by their more effective ways of
handling people, modifying the workplace and corporate culture,
and implementing some of the measures that we’ll discuss in Parts II through VI.
The relative inefficacy of technology may be a bit discouraging, at least in the short run,
because the kinds of modification to corporate culture we advocate are hard to apply and slow to take effect.
What would be far preferable is the coupon you cut out of the back pages of a magazine to send in with a
few thousand bucks, so that some marvelous productivity gimmick will come
back to you in the mail. Of course, it may not do much for you,
but then easy nonsolutions are often more attractive than hard solutions.
The Seven Sirens
The false hopes engendered by easy technological nonsolutions are like those
Sirens that tempted poor Odysseus. Each one reaches out to you with her own
beguiling message, an attractive fallacy that leads nowhere. As long as you
believe them, you’re going to be reluctant to do the hard work necessary to
build a healthy corporate culture.
The particular Sirens that plague you are a function of what industry you
work in. We’ve identified seven from the field that we know best, software
development, and we present them below, along with our own responses.
The Seven False Hopes of Software Management
• There is some new trick you’ve missed that could send productivity soaring.
Response: You are simply not dumb enough to have missed something so fundamental.
You are continually investigating new approaches and trying out the ones that make the most sense. None of
the measures you’ve taken or are likely to take can actually make productivity soar.
What they do, though, is to keep everybody healthy:
People like to keep their minds engaged, to learn, and to improve.
The line that there is some magical innovation out there that you’ve
missed is a pure fear tactic, employed by those with a vested interest
in selling it.
• Other managers are getting gains of 100 percent or 200 percent or more!
Response: Forget it. The typical magical tool that’s touted to you is
focused on the coding and testing part of the life cycle. But even if
coding and testing went away entirely, you couldn’t expect a gain of
100 percent. There is still all the analysis, negotiation, specification,
training, acceptance testing, conversion, and cutover to be done.
• Technology is moving so swiftly that you’re being passed by.
Response: Yes, technology is moving swiftly, but (the High-Tech
Illusion again) most of what you’re doing is not truly high-tech work.
While the machines have changed enormously, the business of software development has been rather static. We still spend most of our
time working on requirements and specification, the low-tech part of
our work. Productivity within the software industry has improved by
3 to 5 percent a year, only marginally better than the steel or automobile industry.
• Changing languages will give you huge gains.
Response: Languages are important because they affect the way you
think about a problem, but again, they can have impact only on the
implementation part of the project. Because of their exaggerated
claims, some of our newer languages qualify as laetrile. Sure, it may
be better to implement a new feature in Java, for example, rather than
PHP, but even before Java came along, there were better ways to do
whatever you needed to do: niche tools that made certain classes of
function pretty easy to implement. Unless you’ve been asleep at the
switch for the past few decades, change of a language won’t do much
for you. It might give you a 5-percent gain (nothing to sneeze at), but
not more.
• Because of the backlog, you need to double productivity immediately.
Response: The much talked about software backlog is a myth. We all
know that projects cost a lot more at the end than what we expected
them to cost at the beginning. So the cost of a system that didn’t get
built this year (because we didn’t have the capacity for it) is optimistically assumed to be half of what it would actually cost to build, or
even less. The typical project that’s stuck in the mythical backlog is
there because it has barely enough benefit to justify building it, even
with the most optimistic cost assumptions. If we knew its real cost,
we’d see that project for what it is: an economic loser. It shouldn’t be
in the backlog, it should be in the reject pile.
• You automate everything else; isn’t it about time you automated away
your software development staff?
Response: This is another variation of the High-Tech Illusion: the belief that software developers do easily automatable work. Their principal work is human communication to organize the users’ expressions
of needs into formal procedure. That work will be necessary no matter
how we change the life cycle. And it’s not likely to be automated.
• Your people will work better if you put them under a lot of pressure.
Response: They won’t—they’ll just enjoy it less.
So far, all this is rather negative. If leaning on people is counterproductive,
and installing the latest technological doodad won’t help much either, then
what is the manager supposed to do?
This Is Management
In my early years as a developer, I was privileged to work on a project managed
by Sharon Weinberg, later to become president of the Codd and Date Consulting
Group. She was a walking example of much of what I now think of as enlightened
management. One snowy day, I dragged myself out of a sickbed to pull together
our shaky system for a user demo. Sharon came in and found me propped up at
the console. She disappeared and came back a few minutes later with a container
of soup. After she’d poured it into me and buoyed up my spirits, I asked her how
she found time for such things with all the management work she had to do. She
gave me her patented grin and said, “Tom, this is management.”
—TDM
Sharon knew what all good instinctive managers know:
The manager’s function is not to make people work, but to make it possible for people to work.
第二部分 办公环境 the office environment
试想一下:
一个员工在办公场所,却无法进入工作状态,那样一来,老板就白白浪费了给他的一切工资。
为了节省办公费用,却白费了工资,那可真是亏大了。
哪些因素在阻碍脑力劳动者的工作?
1 噪音会使人无法集中精力,迫使大脑处于浅薄的、轻浮、急躁的状态。
2 狭小阴暗的办公环境使人处于压抑的状态,限制并缩小大脑思考的广度。
3 没有一点个人隐私的办公环境使人处于防御状态,难以安心工作。
4 需要相互配合的工作者异地分居,造成无法及时密切地沟通。
In order to make it possible for people to work, you have to come to grips
with those factors that sometimes make it impossible. The causes of lost
hours and days are numerous but not so different from one another. They
are often—maybe even most often—failures, in one form or another, of the
environment that the organization has provided to help you work. The phone
rings off the hook, the printer service man stops by to chat, the copier breaks
down, the chap from the blood drive calls to revise donation times, Personnel
continues to scream for the updated skills survey forms, time sheets are due
at 3 P.M., lots more phone calls come in,... and the day is gone. Some days
you never spend a productive minute on anything having to do with getting
actual work done.
It wouldn’t be so bad if all these diversions affected the manager alone,
while the rest of the staff worked on peacefully. But as you know, it doesn’t
happen that way. Everybody’s workday is plagued with frustration and interruption. Entire days are lost, and nobody can put a finger on just where they
went. If you wonder why almost everything is behind schedule, consider this:
There are a million ways to lose a workday, but not even a single
way to get one back.
In Part II, we’ll look into some of the causes of lost time and propose measures that you can take to create a healthy, work-conducive environment.
7 The Furniture Police
Suppose that in addition to your present duties, you were made responsible for space and services for your people. You would have to decide
on the kind of workplace for each person, and the amount of space and
expense to be allocated. How would you go about it? You’d probably want to
study the ways in which people use their space, the amount of table space required, and the number of hours in a day spent working alone, working with
one other person, and so forth. You’d also investigate the impact of noise on
people’s effectiveness. After all, your folks are intellect workers—they need to
have their brains in gear to do their work, and noise does affect their ability
to concentrate.
For each of the observed kinds of disturbance, you’d look for any easy,
mechanical way to protect your workers. Given a reasonably free hand, you
would investigate the advantages of closed space (one- and two- and threeperson offices) versus open space. This would allow you to make a sensible
trade-off of cost against privacy and quiet. Finally, you would take into account people’s social needs and provide some areas where a conversation
could take place without disturbing others.
It should come as no surprise to you that the people who do control space
and services for your company (particularly if it’s a large company) don’t
spend much time thinking about any of the concerns listed above. They don’t
collect any raw data; they don’t strive to understand complex issues like productivity. Part of the reason for this is that they are not themselves doing the
kind of work likely to suffer from a poor environment. They often constitute
a kind of Furniture Police, whose approach to the problem is nearly the opposite of what your own would be.
The Police Mentality
The head of the Furniture Police is that fellow who wanders through the new
office space the day before your staff is supposed to move in, with thoughts
like these running through his head: “Look at how beautifully uniform everything is! You have no way to tell whether you’re on the fifth floor or the
sixth! But once those people move in, it will all be ruined. They’ll hang up
pictures and individualize their little modules, and they’ll be messy. They’ll
probably want to drink coffee over my lovely carpet and even eat their lunch
right here (shudder). Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear...” This is the person who
promulgates rules about leaving each desk clean at night and prohibiting
anything to be hung on the partitions except perhaps a company calendar.
The Furniture Police at one company we know even listed a number for
spilled coffee on the Emergency Numbers decal affixed to every phone. We
were never there when anyone called the number, but you could probably
expect white-coated maintenance men to come careening through the halls
in an electric cart with flashing lights and a siren going ooogah-ooogah.
While on break at a seminar, a fellow told me that his company doesn’t allow
anything to be left on the desk at night except for a five-by-seven photo of the
worker’s family. Anything else and in the morning you’ll find stuck to your desktop a nasty note (on corporate letterhead yet) from the Furniture Police. One guy
was so offended by these notes that he could barely restrain his anger. Knowing
how he felt, his fellow workers played a joke on him: They bought a picture frame
from the local five-and-dime store, choosing one with a photograph of an allAmerican family as a sample. Then they replaced the photo of his own family with
the other. Under the photo was what looked like a note from the Furniture Police,
stating that since his family didn’t pass muster by the corporate standards, he was
being issued an “official company family photo” to leave on his desk.
—TRL
The Uniform Plastic Basement
To get a better feeling for the police mentality, look at the floor plan of
Figure 7–1, now becoming common in organizations all over America.
This scheme deals forthrightly with the complicated question of who
should have windowed space: no one. The trouble with windows is that there
aren’t enough of them to give one to every worker. If some people have windows and others do not, you’ll be able to tell that you’re in George’s work
space, for instance, by simple observation. We can’t have that, now, can we?
But look at the side effect. The most frequently traveled paths, from elevator to cubicle or from cubicle to cubicle, do not pass in front of any window.
Where such floor plans are used, the windows are not utilized at all; the
window corridors are always empty. We first encountered the window corridor plan on the twentieth floor of a new skyscraper—there were magnificent
views in every direction, views that virtually nobody ever saw. The people in
that building may as well have worked in a basement.
Basement space is really preferable from the point of view of the Furniture
Police, because it lends itself more readily to uniform layouts. But people
work better in natural light. They feel better in windowed space and that feeling translates directly into higher quality of work. People don’t want to work
in a perfectly uniform space either. They want to shape their space to their
own convenience and taste. These inconvenient facts are typical of a general
class of inconveniences that come from dealing with human workers.
Visiting a few dozen different organizations each year, as we do, quickly
convinces you that ignoring such inconvenient facts is intrinsic to many
office plans. Almost without exception, the work space given to intellect
workers is noisy, interruptive, un-private, and sterile. Some are prettier than
others, but not much more functional. No one can get much real work done
there. The very person who could work like a beaver in a quiet little cubbyhole with two large folding tables and a door that shuts is given instead an
EZ-Whammo Modular Cubicle with 73 plastic appurtenances. Nobody shows
much interest in whether it helps or hurts effectiveness.
Figure 7–1 Typical office floor plan.
All this may seem a bit harsh on those solid citizens who plan America’s
office space. If you think so, consider one last manifestation of the mindset of these planners. It is something so monstrous that you have to wonder
why it’s tolerated at all: the company paging system. Hard as this may be to
believe, some companies actually use a public address system to interrupt
perhaps thousands of workers—people who are trying to think—in order to
locate one: BONG! [static] ATTENTION, ATTENTION! PAGING PAUL PORTULACA. WILL PAUL PORTULACA PLEASE CALL THE PAGING CENTER.
If you position yourself well, you can sometimes see thirty or forty salaried
workers raise their heads at the initial bong and listen politely through the
whole message, then look down again wondering what they were doing before they were interrupted.
Police-mentality planners design workplaces the way they would design
prisons: optimized for containment at minimal cost. We have unthinkingly
yielded to them on the subject of workplace design, yet for most organizations with productivity problems, there is no more fruitful area for improvement than the workplace. As long as workers are crowded into noisy, sterile,
disruptive space, it’s not worth improving anything but the workplace.
8 “You Never Get Anything Done around Here between 9 and 5.”
Part of the folklore among development workers in all sectors of our
economy is, “Overtime is a fact of life.” This implies that the work
can never get done in the amount of time worth allocating for it. That
seems to us a rather dubious proposition. Overtime is certainly a fact of life in
the software industry, for example, but that industry could hardly have come
through a period of such phenomenal prosperity if the software built on the
whole weren’t worth a lot more than was paid for it. How to explain then the
fact that software people as well as workers in other thought-intensive positions are putting in so many extra hours?
A disturbing possibility is that overtime is not so much a means to increase
the quantity of work time as to improve its average quality. You hear evidence that this is true in such frequently repeated statements as these:
“I get my best work done in the early morning, before anybody else
arrives.”
“In one late evening, I can do two or three days’ worth of work.”
“The office is a zoo all day, but by about 6 P.M., things have quieted down and you can really accomplish something.”
To be productive, people may come in early or stay late or even try to escape entirely, by staying home for a day to get a critical piece of work done.
One of our seminar participants reported that her new boss wouldn’t allow
her to work at home, so on the day before an important report was due, she
took a sick day to get it done.
Staying late or arriving early or staying home to work in peace is a damning indictment of the office environment. The amazing thing is not that it’s so
often impossible to work in the workplace; the amazing thing is that everyone
knows it and nobody ever does anything about it.
A Policy of default
A California company that I consult for is very much concerned about being responsive to its people. One year, the company’s management conducted a survey
in which all programmers (more than a thousand) were asked to list the best and
the worst aspects of their jobs. The manager who ran the survey was very excited
about the changes the company had undertaken. He told me that the number
two problem was poor communication with upper management. Having learned
that from the survey, the company set up quality circles, gripe sessions, and other
communication programs. I listened politely as he described them in detail. When
he was done, I asked what the number one problem was. “The environment,” he
replied. “People were upset about the noise.” I asked what steps the company had
taken to remedy that problem. “Oh, we couldn’t do anything about that,” he said.
“That’s outside our control.”
—TDM
All the more discouraging is that the manager wasn’t even particularly
embarrassed about failing to take steps to improve the environment. It was
as though the programmers had complained that there was too much gravity,
and management had decided after due reflection that they couldn’t really do
much about it; it was a problem whose solution was beyond human capacity.
This is a policy of total default.
Changing the environment is not beyond human capacity. Granted,
there is a power group in almost every company, a Furniture Police group,
that has domain over the physical environment. But it’s not impossible to
make them see reason or to wrest control away from them. For the rest of
this chapter, we’ll present some of the reasons why you’re going to have to
do exactly that. In subsequent chapters, we’ll give some hints about how
to go about it.
Coding War Games: Observed Productivity Factors
From the years just before the first edition of this book, we have conducted
some sort of a public productivity survey each year. So far, more than three
hundred organizations worldwide have participated in these studies. Eventually, we began to run our annual survey as a sort of public competition in
which teams of software implementors from different organizations compete
to complete a series of benchmark coding and testing tasks in minimal time
and with minimal defects. We call these competitions Coding War Games.
Here’s how they work:
• The basic competing unit is a pair of implementors from the same organization. The pair members do not work together, but in fact members work against each other as well as against all the other pairs.
• Both pair members perform exactly the same work, designing, coding,
and testing a medium-sized program to our fixed specification.
• As they go through the exercise, participants record the time spent on
a time log.
• After all participant testing is completed, the products are subjected to
our standard acceptance test.
• Participants work in their own work areas during normal work hours
using the same languages, tools, terminals, and computers that they
use for any other project.
• All results are kept confidential.
From 1984 to 1986, more than six hundred developers from 92 companies
participated in the games. The benefit to the individual is learning how he or
she compares with the rest of the competitors. The benefit to the company
is learning how well it does against other companies in the sample. And the
benefit to us is learning a lot about what factors affect productivity, factors
discussed in the rest of this chapter.
Individual Differences
One of the first results of the coding wars was proof of a huge difference
between competing individuals. Of course, this had been observed before.
Figure 8–1, for example, is a composite of the findings from three different
sources on the extent of variation among individuals.
Three rules of thumb seem to apply whenever you measure variations in
performance over a sample of individuals.
• Count on the best people outperforming the worst by about 10:1.
• Count on the best performer being about 2.5 times better than the
median performer.
• Count on the half that are better-than-median performers outdoing the
other half by more than 2:1.
These rules apply for virtually any performance metric you define. So, for
instance, the better half of a sample will do a given job in less than half the
time the others take; the more defect-prone half will put in more than two
thirds of the defects, and so on.
Results of the Coding War Games were very much in line with this profile. Take as an example Figure 8–2, which shows the performance spread
of time to achieve the first milestone (clean compile, ready for test) in one
year’s games.
Figure 8–1 Productivity variation among individuals.
The best performance was 2.1 times better than the average. The half above
the median outperformed the half below the median by 1.9 to 1. Results of the
subsequent games have been nearly identical.
Productivity Nonfactors
In our analysis of game results, we discovered that the following factors had
little or no correlation to performance:
• Language: Those who coded in old languages like COBOL and Fortran
did essentially as well as those who coded in Pascal and C. The spread
within each language group was much like the overall spread of performance. The only exception to this observation about language was
assembly language: The assembly language participants got badly left
behind by all the other language groups. (But, then, people who use
assembly language are used to being left behind.)
• Years of experience: People who had ten years of experience did not
outperform those with two years of experience. There was no correlation between experience and performance except that those with less
than six months’ experience with the language used in the exercise did
not do as well as the rest of the sample.
• Number of defects: Nearly a third of the participants completed the
exercise with zero defects. As a group, the zero-defect workers paid no
performance penalty for doing more precise work. (In fact, they took
slightly less time, on the average, to complete the exercise than those
who had one or more defects.)
• Salary: Salary levels varied widely over the sample. There was a very
weak relationship between salary and performance. The half above the
median made less than 10 percent more than the half below, but they
performed nearly twice as well. The performance spread at any given
salary level was nearly as wide as over the whole sample.
Again, nothing very astonishing, as most of these effects have been noted
before. Slightly more surprising were some of the factors that we found did
have a substantial effect on performance.
You May Want to Hide This from Your Boss
Among our findings of what did correlate positively to good performance was
this rather unexpected one: It mattered a lot who your pair mate was. If you
were paired with someone who did well, you did well, too. If your pair mate
took forever to finish, so did you. If your pair mate didn’t finish the exercise
at all, you probably didn’t either. For the average competing pair, the performances differed by only 21 percent.
Now, why is that so important? Because even though the pairs didn’t work
together, the two members of the pair came from the same organization. (In
most cases, they were the only ones from that organization.) They worked in
the same physical environment and shared the same corporate culture. The
fact that they had nearly identical performances suggests that the wide spread
of capabilities observed across the whole sample may not apply within the
organization: Two people from the same organization tend to perform alike.
That means the best performers are clustering in some organizations while
the worst performers are clustering in others. This is the effect that software
pioneer Harlan Mills predicted in 1981:
While this [10 to 1] productivity differential among programmers
is understandable, there is also a 10 to 1 difference in productivity
among software organizations.
Our study found that there were huge differences between the 92 competing organizations. Over the whole sample, the best organization (the one with
the best average performance of its representatives) worked more than ten
times faster than the worst organization. In addition to their speed, all com1. H. D. Mills, Software Productivity (New York: Dorset House Publishing, 1988), p. 266.
petitors from the fastest organization developed code that passed the major
acceptance test.
This is more than a little unsettling. Managers for years have affected a
certain fatalism about individual differences. They reasoned that the differences were innate, so you couldn’t do much about them. It’s harder to be
fatalistic about the clustering effect. Some companies are doing a lot worse
than others. Something about their environment and corporate culture is failing to attract and keep good people or is making it impossible for even good
people to work effectively.
Effects of the Workplace
The bald fact is that many companies provide developers with a workplace
that is so crowded, noisy, and interruptive as to fill their days with frustration. That alone could explain reduced efficiency as well as a tendency for
good people to migrate elsewhere.
The hypothesis that qualities of the workplace may have a strong correlation to developer effectiveness is an easy one to test. All you have to do is
devise a set of fixed benchmark tasks, similar to those that developers do in
their normal work, and observe how well they perform each of these tasks in
different environments. The Coding War Games were designed with exactly
that purpose in mind.
In order to gather some data on the workplace, we had each war game participant (prior to the exercise) fill out a questionnaire about the physical quarters in which the work was to be performed. We asked for some objective data
(measurements of the dedicated space provided and the height of partitions,
for example) and for answers to some subjective questions like “Does your
workplace make you feel appreciated?” and “Is your workplace acceptably
quiet?” Then we correlated their answers to their performance in the exercise.
An easy way to spot the trend is to look at the workplace characteristics of
people who did well in the exercise (based on a composite performance parameter) against those of participants who didn’t do so well. We chose to compare
the top quarter of finishers with the bottom quarter. Average performance of
those in the top quarter was 2.6 times better than that of those in the bottom
quarter. The environmental correlations are summarized in Table 8–1.
The top quartile, those who did the exercise most rapidly and effectively,
work in space that is substantially different from that of the bottom quartile.
The top performers’ space is quieter, more private, better protected from interruption, and there is more of it.
TABLE 8–1 Environments of the Best and Worst Performers in the Coding War Games
Environmental Factor Those Who Performed
in 1st Quartile
Those Who Performed
in 4th Quartile
1. How much dedicated work
space do you have?
78 sq. ft. 46 sq. ft.
2. Is it acceptably quiet? 57% yes 29% yes
3. Is it acceptably private? 62% yes 19% yes
4. Can you silence your phone? 52% yes 10% yes
5. Can you divert your calls? 76% yes 19% yes
6. Do people often interrupt you needlessly? 38% yes 76% yes
What Did We Prove?
The data presented above does not exactly prove that a better workplace will
help people to perform better. It may only indicate that people who perform
better tend to gravitate toward organizations that provide a better workplace.
Does that really matter to you? In the long run, what difference does it make
whether quiet, space, and privacy help your current people to do better work
or help you to attract and keep better people?
If we proved anything at all, it’s that a policy of default on workplace
characteristics is a mistake. If you participate in or manage a team of people
who need to use their brains during the workday, then the workplace environment is your business. It isn’t enough to observe, “You never get anything
done around here between 9 and 5,” and then turn your attention to something else. It’s dumb that people can’t get work done during normal work
hours. It’s time to do something about it.
9 Saving Money on Space
If your organization is anything like those studied in our last three annual
surveys, the environmental trend is toward less privacy, less dedicated
space, and more noise. Of course, the obvious reason for this is cost. A
penny saved on the work space is a penny earned on the bottom line, or so
the logic goes. Those who make such a judgment are guilty of performing a
cost/benefit study without benefit of studying the benefit. They know the cost
but haven’t any idea what the other side of the equation may be. Sure, the
savings of a cost-reduced workplace are attractive, but compared to what?
The obvious answer is that the savings have to be compared to the risk of lost
effectiveness.
Given the current assault on workplace costs, it’s surprising how little the
potential savings are compared to the potential risk. The entire cost of work
space for one developer is a small percentage of the salary paid to the developer. How small depends on such factors as real-estate values, salary levels, and lease versus buy tactics. In general, it varies in the range from 6 to
16 percent. For a programmer/analyst working in company-owned space, you
should expect to pay fifteen dollars directly to the worker for every dollar you
spend on space and amenities. If you add the cost for employee benefits, the
total investment in the worker could easily be twenty times the cost of his or
her workplace.
The 20:1 ratio implies that workplace cost reduction is risky. Attempts
to save a small portion of the one dollar may cause you to sacrifice a large
portion of the twenty. The prudent manager could not consider moving people into cheaper, noisier, and more crowded quarters without first assessing
whether worker effectiveness would be impaired. So, you might expect that
the planners who have undertaken a decade-long program to change our
office space into the voguish open-plan format must first have done some
very careful productivity analysis. Not to do so would have demonstrated an
irresponsible unconcern for the environment.
A Plague upon the Land
Irresponsible unconcern for the environment is, unfortunately, the norm for
our times. We show it in the despoliation of our natural resources, so why
not in workplace design? In a prophetic science fiction story, John Brunner
describes pollution of the air, soil, and water continuing through the end of
the next century. No matter how bad the pollution gets, almost no one complains. Like a vast herd of imperturbable sheep, the inhabitants of Brunner’s
world try to ignore the problem until, finally, all possibility for survival is
lost. Then and only then do they take notice. Brunner called his book The
Sheep Look Up.
American office workers have barely looked up while their work quarters
have been degraded from sensible to silly. Not so long ago, they worked in
two- and three-person offices with walls, doors, and windows. (You remember walls, doors, and windows, don’t you?) In such space, one could work in
quiet or conduct meetings with colleagues without disrupting neighbors.
Then, without warning, open-plan seating was upon us like a plague upon
the land. The advocates of the new format produced not one shred of evidence that effectiveness would not be impaired. They really couldn’t. Meaningful measurement of productivity is a complex and elusive thing. It has
to be performed differently in each different work sector. It takes expertise,
careful study, and lots of data collection.
The people who brought us open-plan seating simply weren’t up to the
task. But they talked a good game. They sidestepped the issue of whether
productivity might go down by asserting very loudly that the new office arrangement would cause productivity to go up, and up a lot, by as much as
300 percent. They published articles, many of them crafted from the purest
sculpted smoke. They gave their pronouncements impressive titles like this
one from Data Management magazine: “Open-Plan DP Environment Boosts
Employee Productivity.” After that promising title, the author got right to the
heart of the matter:
The fundamental areas of consideration in designing an open-plan
office within an information processing environment are: the system’s electrical distribution capabilities, computer support capabilities and manufacturer and dealer service.
Period. That’s it. That’s all of the “fundamental areas of consideration.” No
mention of the fact that a person is going to be trying to work in that space.
Also missing from that article and from others like it is any notion of
what employee productivity is all about. There was no evidence in the Data
Management article to support the title. The only method we have ever seen
used to confirm claims that the open plan improves productivity is proof by
repeated assertion.
We Interrupt This Diatribe to Bring You a Few Facts
Before drawing the plans for its Santa Teresa facility, IBM violated all industry standards by carefully studying the work habits of those who would
occupy the space. The study was designed by the architect Gerald McCue
with the assistance of IBM area managers. Researchers observed the work
processes in action in current work spaces and in mock-ups of proposed work
spaces. They watched programmers, engineers, quality control workers, and
managers go about their normal activities. From their studies, they concluded
that a minimum accommodation for the mix of people slated to occupy the
new space would be the following:
• 100 square feet of dedicated space per worker
• 30 square feet of work surface per person
• Noise protection in the form of enclosed offices or 6-foot-high partitions (they ended up with about half of all professional personnel in
enclosed one- and two-person offices)
The rationale for building the new laboratory to respect these minimums
was simple: People in the roles studied needed the space and quiet in order to
perform optimally. Cost reduction to provide work space below the minimum
would result in a loss of effectiveness that would more than offset the cost
savings. Other studies have looked into the same questions and come up with
more or less the same answers. The McCue study was different only in one
respect: IBM actually followed the recommendations and built a workplace
where people can work. (We predict this company will go far.)
How does the rest of the world match up to IBM’s minimum standard
workplace? Figure 9–1 shows a distribution of dedicated space per person
computed across participants in our Coding War Game surveys.
Only 16 percent of participants had 100 square feet or more of work
space. Only 11 percent of participants worked in enclosed offices or with
greater than 6-foot-high partitions. There were more participants in the
20- to 30-square-foot group than in the 100-square-foot group. (With less
than 30 square feet, you’re trying to work in a total floor space less than the
table space provided at Santa Teresa.)
Across the whole Coding War Games sample, 58 percent complained that
their workplace was not acceptably quiet; 61 percent complained that it
wasn’t sufficiently private; 54 percent reported that they had a workplace at
home that was better than the workplace provided by the company.
Workplace Quality and Product Quality
Companies that provide a small and noisy workplace are comforted by the
belief that these factors don’t really matter. They explain away all the complaints about noise, for instance, as workers campaigning for the added status
of bigger, more private space. After all, what difference could a little noise
make? It’s just something to help keep people awake.
In order to determine whether attitude toward noise level had any correlation to work, we divided our sample into two parts, those who found
the workplace acceptably quiet and those who didn’t. Then we looked at the
number of workers within each group who had completed the entire exercise
without a single defect.
Workers who reported before the exercise that their workplace was acceptably quiet were one-third more likely to deliver zero-defect work.
As the noise level gets worse, this trend seems to get stronger. For example, one company that was represented by fifty participants had an unacceptable noise rating 22-percent higher than average. At that company, those
who did zero-defect work came disproportionately from the subset that found
the noise level acceptable:
Zero-defect workers: 66 percent reported noise level okay
One-or-more-defect workers: 8 percent reported noise level okay
Again, as with the other environmental correlations, we asked that participants assess the noise level in their environments before performing the
exercise.
Note that we made no objective measurements of noise levels. We simply
asked people whether they found the noise level acceptable or not. As a result, we cannot distinguish between those who worked in a genuinely quiet
workplace and those who were well adapted to (not bothered by) a noisy
workplace. But when a worker complains about noise, he’s telling you he
doesn’t fit into either of those fortunate subsets. He’s telling you that he is
likely to be defect-prone. You ignore that message at your peril.
A Discovery of Nobel Prize Significance
Some days, people are just more highly perceptive than other days. For us,
a landmark day for perceptiveness was February 3, 1984, when we began to
notice a remarkable relationship between people density and dedicated floor
space per person. As the one goes up, the other seems to go down! Careful
researchers that we are, we immediately began to document the trend. In a
study of 32,346 companies throughout the Free World, we confirmed a virtually perfect inverse relationship between the two (see Figure 9–2).
Imagine our excitement as the data points were collected. We experienced
some of the thrill that Ohm must have felt when discovering his law. This was
truly the stuff of which Nobel Prizes are made. Remember that you saw it
here first: Worker density (say, workers per thousand square feet) is inversely
proportional to dedicated space per person.
Figure 9–2 The DeMarco/Lister Effect.
If you’re having trouble seeing why this matters, you’re not thinking about
noise. Noise is directly proportional to density, so halving the allotment of
space per person can be expected to double the noise. Even if you managed
to prove conclusively that a programmer could work in thirty square feet
of space without being hopelessly space-bound, you still wouldn’t be able
to conclude that thirty square feet is adequate space. The noise in a thirtysquare-foot matrix is more than three times the noise in a hundred-squarefoot matrix. That could mean the difference between a plague of product
defects and none at all.
Hiding Out
When the office environment is frustrating enough, people look for a place to
hide out. They book the conference rooms or head for the library or wander
off for coffee and just don’t come back. No, they are not meeting for secret
romance or plotting political coups; they are hiding out to work. The good
news here is that your people really do need to feel the accomplishment of
work completed. They will go to great extremes to make that happen. When
the crunch is on, people will try to find workable space no matter where.
In my college years at Brown University, the trick for getting through the mad
season when all the papers came due was to find some place quiet to work. At
Brown, we had a system of carrels in the library stacks. The only acceptable interruption there was a fire alarm, and it had to be for a real fire. We got to be
experts at finding out-of-the-way carrels where no one would ever think to look
for us. The fifth-floor carrels of the Bio Library were my favorite, but a friend even
went so far as to work in the crypt below the American Library—yes, the crypt,
complete with the remains of the woman who had endowed the building. It was
cool, it was marble, and as my friend reported, it was quiet, very quiet.
—TRL
If you peek into a conference room, you may find three people working
in silence. If you wander to the cafeteria midafternoon, you’re likely to find
folks seated, one to a table, with their work spread out before them. Some of
your workers can’t be found at all. People are hiding out to get some work
done. If this rings true to your organization, it’s an indictment. Saving money
on space may be costing you a fortune.
Intermezzo: Productivity Measurement and Unidentified Flying Objects
An intermezzo is a fanciful digression inserted between the pages
of an otherwise serious work (oh, well, fairly serious work).
Why can’t we just measure productivity in good and bad workplaces
and finally nail down the relationship between the environment
and worker effectiveness? That approach would certainly be suitable for an assembly line, but when the work being measured is of a more
intellectual nature, it’s not so obvious. Measurement of intellect-worker productivity suffers from a reputation of being a soft science. In some people’s
minds, it’s little better than the study of unidentified flying objects.
An experiment to test the effect of the workplace on productivity is easy
enough to design:
• Measure the amount of work completed in the new workplace.
• Measure the cost of doing that work.
• Compare the size and cost in the new workplace to the size and cost in
the old.
Design was easy, the implementation is harder: For instance, how do you
assess the amount of work involved in a market study or in a new circuit design or in the development of a new loan policy? There may be some emerging standards (as there are in the software industry, for instance), but these
are sure to require extensive local data collection and the building of in-house
expertise. Most organizations don’t even attempt to measure the amount of
intellect work performed. They don’t measure costs very effectively, either.
There may be statistics on the total quantity of hours applied to a given
problem within an organization, but no indication of the quality of these
hours (more about this in Chapter 10, “Brain Time versus Body Time”). And
even if organizations could measure size and cost in a new workplace, they
would have no past figures to compare them to. Managers are likely to furrow
their brows over this problem, sigh, and conclude that variation in productivity is beyond comprehension. But it’s really not as bad as that.
Gilb’s Law
In London for one year’s International Conference on Software Engineering, I
spent an afternoon with Tom Gilb, the author of Software Metrics and dozens
of published papers on measurement of the development process. I found that
an easy way to get him heated up was to suggest that something you need to
know is “unmeasurable.” The man was offended by the very idea. He favored me
that day with a description of what he considered a fundamental truth about
measurability. The idea seemed at once so wise and so encouraging that I copied
it verbatim into my journal under the heading of Gilb’s Law:
Anything you need to quantify can be measured in some way that is
superior to not measuring it at all.
Gilb’s Law doesn’t promise you that measurement will be free or even cheap, and
it may not be perfect—just better than nothing.
—TDM
Of course it’s possible to measure productivity. If you convoke a group
of people doing the same or similar work and give them a day to work out
a sensible self-measurement scheme, they will come up with something that
confirms Gilb’s Law. The numbers they then generate will give them some
way to tune their own performance and, when combined with quality circles
or some other peer-review mechanism, a way to learn from each other’s
methods. The averages computed over the group will give management a
reliable indicator of the effect of such parameters as improvement in the
office environment.
In the field that we know best, software construction, there are any
number of workable productivity measurement schemes. There are even
services that will come in and assess your productivity and show you
where you stand compared to the rest of the industry. An organization that
can’t make some assessment of its own productivity rate just hasn’t tried
hard enough.
But You Can’t Afford Not to Know
Suppose there were a foolproof productivity measurement tool and it was being applied to your people’s work this very moment. Suppose the measurers
came in to tell you that your productivity was in the top 5 percent of organizations doing your kind of work. You’d be pleased. You’d wander around
the halls with a secret smile, thinking warm thoughts about your people: “I
suspected they were pretty good, but this is terrific news.”
Ooops. The measurers have just come back to tell you that they must have
been holding the graph upside down when they gave you the first report.
You’re actually in the bottom 5 percent. Now your day is ruined. You find
yourself thinking, “I might have known it all along. Who could expect to get
any work done with turkeys like these on the staff?” In the one case you’re
ecstatic, in the other despondent. But in neither case are you particularly surprised. You’re not likely to be surprised no matter what the news is, because
you haven’t the foggiest idea what your productivity is.
Given that there are ten to one differences from one organization to another, you simply can’t afford to remain ignorant of where you stand. Your
competition may be ten times more effective than you are in doing the same
work. If you don’t know it, you can’t begin to do something about it. Only the
market will understand. It will take steps of its own to rectify the situation,
steps that do not bode well for you.
Measuring with Your Eyes Closed
Work measurement can be a useful tool for method improvement, motivation,
and enhanced job satisfaction, but it is almost never used for these purposes.
Measurement schemes tend to become threatening and burdensome.
In order to make the concept deliver on its potential, management has to
be perceptive and secure enough to cut itself out of the loop. That means the
data on individuals is not passed up to management, and everybody in the
organization knows it. Data collected on the individual’s performance has to
be used only to benefit that individual. The measurement scheme is an exercise in self-assessment, and only the sanitized averages are made available to
the boss.
This concept is a hard one to swallow for many managers. They reason
that they could use the data to do some aspects of their work more effectively
(precision promotion, for example, or even precision firing). Their company
has paid to have the data collected, so why shouldn’t it be made available to
them? But collection of this very sensitive data on the individual can only
be effected with the active and willing cooperation of the individual. If ever
its confidentiality is compromised, if ever the data is used against even one
individual, the entire data collection scheme will come to an abrupt halt.
The individuals are inclined to do exactly the same things with the data
that the manager would do. They will try to improve the things they do less
well or try to specialize in the areas where they already excel. In the extreme
case, an individual may even “fire” himself in order to stop depending on
skills that have been found to be deficient. The manager doesn’t really need
the individual data in order to benefit from it.
10 Brain Time versus Body Time
As part of the Santa Teresa pre-construction study described in Chapter 9, “Saving Money on Space,” McCue and his associates looked into
the amounts of time that developers spend in different work modes.
For a typical day, they concluded that workers divide their time as shown in
Table 10–1.
The significance of this table from a noise standpoint should be evident:
Thirty percent of the time, people are noise sensitive, and the rest of the time,
they are noise generators. Since the workplace is a mixture of people working
alone and people working together, there is a clash of modes. Those working
alone are particularly inconvenienced by this clash. Though they represent a
minority at any given time, it’s a mistake to ignore them, for it is during their
solitary work periods that people actually do the work. The rest of the time is
dedicated to subsidiary activities, rest, and chatter.
Flow
During single-minded work time, people are ideally in a state that psychologists call flow. Flow is a condition of deep, nearly meditative involvement.
In this state, there is a gentle sense of euphoria, and one is largely unaware
of the passage of time: “I began to work. I looked up, and three hours had
passed.” There is no consciousness of effort; the work just seems to, well,
flow. You’ve been in this state often, so we don’t have to describe it to you.
TABLE 10–1 How Developers Spend Their Time
Work Mode Percent of Time
Working alone 30%
Working with one other person 50%
Working with two or more people 20%
Not all work roles require that you attain a state of flow in order to be productive, but for anyone involved in engineering, design, development, writing, or like tasks, flow is a must. These are high-momentum tasks. It’s only
when you’re in flow that the work goes well.
Unfortunately, you can’t turn on flow like a switch. It takes a slow descent
into the subject, requiring 15 minutes or more of concentration before the
state is locked in. During this immersion period, you are particularly sensitive
to noise and interruption. A disruptive environment can make it difficult or
impossible to attain flow.
Once locked in, the state can be broken by an interruption that is focused
on you (your phone, for instance) or by insistent noise (“Attention! Paging
Paul Portulaca. Will Paul Portulaca please call extension...”). Each time
you’re interrupted, you require an additional immersion period to get back
into flow. During this immersion, you’re not really doing work.
“流”的状态:“我开始工作。等我抬头一看,三个小时就过去了。”
这里不会有工作量的感知; 工作展开就像流一样自然。
对于从事工程、设计、开发、写作或类似的工作,流是必需的。
这些任务都需要精神高度集中,只有处在流的状态下,你才能够很好地工作。
不幸的是,你无法像开关那样随时启动流。你需要一个缓慢的过程来进入状态。
15分钟或更长时间的集中才能把自己锁定在流里面。
在这个引入过程中,对对噪声和干扰是非常敏感的。在一个毁灭性的环境,可能让你很难甚至不可能进入流的状态。
An Endless State of No-Flow
If the average incoming phone call takes five minutes and your reimmersion
period is fifteen minutes, the total cost of that call in flow time (work time)
lost is twenty minutes. A dozen phone calls use up half a day. A dozen other
interruptions and the rest of the workday is gone. This is what guarantees,
“You never get anything done around here between 9 and 5.”
Just as important as the loss of effective time is the accompanying frustration. The worker who tries and tries to get into flow and is interrupted each
time is not a happy person. He gets tantalizingly close to involvement only
to be bounced back into awareness of his surroundings. Instead of the deep
mindfulness that he craves, he is continually channeled into the promiscuous changing of direction that the modern office tries to force upon him.
Put yourself in the position of the participant who filled out her Coding War
Games time sheet with the entries shown in Table 10–2.
A few days like that and anybody is ready to look for a new job. If you’re
a manager, you may be relatively unsympathetic to the frustrations of being
in no-flow. After all, you do most of your own work in interrupt mode—that’s
management—but the people who work for you need to get into flow. Anything
that keeps them from it will reduce their effectiveness and the satisfaction they
take in their work. It will also increase the cost of getting the work done.
TABLE 10–2 Segment of a CWG Time Sheet
Work Period From–To Type of Work What Interruption Caused the
End of This Work Period?
2:13–2:17 Coding Phone call
2:20–2:23 Coding Boss stopped in to chat
2:26–2:29 Coding Question from colleague
2:31–2:39 Coding Phone call
2:41–2:44 Coding Phone call
Time Accounting Based on Flow
Chances are, your company’s present time-accounting system is based on a
conventional model. It assumes that work accomplished is proportional to
the number of paid hours put in. When workers fill out their time sheets in
this scheme, they make no distinction between hours spent doing meaningful work and hours of pure frustration. So they’re reporting body time rather
than brain time.
To make matters worse, the task-accounting data is also used for payroll purposes. This compels employees to make sure that the total number of
hours logged always balances out to some predetermined total for the week,
regardless of how much overtime or undertime they put in. The resultant
compilation of official fictions may be acceptable to the Payroll Department:
It is equivalent to the worker responding “Present” to a roll call. But for any
productivity assessment or analysis of where the money went, this record is
too badly tainted to be useful.
The phenomena of flow and immersion give us a more realistic way to model
how time is applied to a development task. What matters is not the amount of
time you’re present, but the amount of time that you’re working at full potential. An hour in flow really accomplishes something, but 10 six-minute work
periods sandwiched between 11 interruptions won’t accomplish anything.
The mechanics of a flow-accounting system are not very complex. Instead of logging hours, people log uninterrupted hours. In order to get honest
data, you have to remove the onus from logging too few uninterrupted hours.
People have to be assured that it’s not their fault if they can only manage one
or two uninterrupted hours a week; rather it’s the organization’s fault for not
providing a flow-conducive environment. Of course, none of this data can go
to the Payroll Department. You’ll still have to retain some body-present timereporting for payroll purposes.
A task-accounting scheme that records flow hours instead of body-present
hours can give you two huge benefits: First, it focuses your people’s attention
on the importance of flow time. If they learn that each workday is expected to
afford them at least two or three hours free from interruption, they will take
steps to protect those hours. The resultant interrupt-consciousness helps to
protect them from casual interruption by peers.
Second, it creates a record of how meaningful time is applied to the work.
If a product is projected to require three thousand flow hours to complete,
then you’ve got a valid reason to believe you’re two-thirds done when two
thousand flow hours have been logged against it. That kind of analysis would
be foolish and dangerous with body-present hours.
The E-Factor
If you buy the idea that a good environment ought to afford workers the
possibility of working in flow, the collection of uninterrupted-hour data can
give you some meaningful metric evidence of just how good or bad your
environment is. Whenever the number of uninterrupted hours is a reasonably
high proportion of total hours, up to approximately 40 percent, then the environment is allowing people to get into flow when they need to. Much lower
numbers imply frustration and reduced effectiveness. We call this metric the
Environmental Factor or E-Factor:
E-Factor = Uninterrupted Hours/Body - Present Hours
A somewhat surprising result of collecting E-Factor data is that factors
vary within an organization from site to site. For example, we recorded
E-Factors as high as 0.38 and as low as 0.10 in one large government agency.
The agency’s head assured us that the physical environment had to remain
as it was, no matter how bad, because characteristics of the workplace were
determined by government policy and by civil service level. In spite of this,
we found some sites where workers were housed in a tight, noisy open-office
plan, and others where workers doing the same job and at the same level
worked in pleasant four-person offices. Not so surprising was the finding that
E-Factors were markedly higher in the four-person offices.
E-Factors can be threatening to the status quo. (Perhaps you’d better not
even start collecting the data.) If you report 0.38 for a sensible space and 0.10
for a cost-reduced space, for example, people are likely to conclude that the
cost reduction didn’t make much sense. Workers in the 0.10 space will have
to put in 3.8 times as much body-present time to do a given piece of work
as those in the 0.38 space. That means having work done in the cost-reduced
space could result in a performance penalty that is far greater than the space
savings. Clearly, such a heretical line of reasoning must be suppressed. Otherwise we jeopardize all those wonderful “savings” to be gained by tightening
up your workers’ spaces. Burn this book before anyone else sees it.
A Garden of Bandannas
When you first start measuring the E-Factor, don’t be surprised if it hovers
around zero. People may even laugh at you for trying to record uninterrupted
hours: “There is no such thing as an uninterrupted hour in this madhouse.”
Don’t despair. Remember that you’re not just collecting data, you’re helping
to change people’s attitudes. By regularly noting uninterrupted hours, you are
giving official sanction to the notion that people ought to have at least some
interrupt-free time. That makes it permissible to hide out, to ignore the phone,
or to close the door (if, sigh, there is a door).
At one of our client sites, there was a nearly organic phenomenon of red
bandannas on dowels suddenly sprouting from the desks after a few weeks of
E-Factor data collection. No one in power had ever suggested that device as
an official Do Not Disturb signal; it just happened by consensus. But everyone
soon learned its significance and respected it.
Of course, there have always been certain cranky souls who have stuck up
Do Not Disturb signs. Peer pressure makes it hard for most of us to show that
interruptions aren’t welcome, even for a part of the day. A little emphasis on
the E-Factor helps to change the corporate culture and make it acceptable to be
uninterruptable.
一天接15个电话算不了什么,但是考虑它带来的重新引入的时间,可能耗费的就是一整天了。
当一天就这样结束了,而你还在迷惑时间到底花在哪儿时,你可能根本想不起来谁为了什么事给你打了电话。
“不管响铃时你正在做啥,不管你当时有多投入,你都会放下手上的事情去回答它,要不你知道它会一直响。”
电话与电子邮件之间的主要区别在于电话是打断性质的,而电子邮件不会; 邮件的接收者可以在他方便的时候来处理。
我们需要扪心自问,为这样的消息或问题值得去打断目前的工作吗?
我可以等目前工作完成了再去回答吗?这个消息需要马上回应吗?
如果不是,在造成麻烦之前,还可以延后多少再去处理?
Thinking on the Job
In my years at Bell Labs, we worked in two-person offices. They were spacious,
quiet, and the phones could be diverted. I shared my office with Wendl Thomis,
who went on to build a small empire as an electronic toy maker. In those days, he
was working on the Electronic Switching System fault dictionary. The dictionary
scheme relied upon the notion of n-space proximity, a concept that was hairy
enough to challenge even Wendl’s powers of concentration. One afternoon, I was
bent over a program listing while Wendl was staring into space, his feet propped
up on the desk. Our boss came in and asked, “Wendl! What are you doing?” Wendl
said, “I’m thinking.” And the boss said, “Can’t you do that at home?”
—TDM
The difference between that Bell Labs environment and a typical modernday office plan is that in those quiet offices, one at least had the option of
thinking on the job. In most of the office space we encounter today, there is
enough noise and interruption to make any serious thinking virtually impossible. More is the shame: Your people bring their brains with them every
morning. They could put them to work for you at no additional cost if only
there were a small measure of peace and quiet in the workplace.
11 The Telephone
When you begin to collect data about the quality of work time, your
attention is automatically focused on one of the principal causes
of interruption, the incoming telephone call. It’s nothing to field
15 calls in a day. It may be nothing, but because of the associated reimmersion time, it can use up most of that day. When the day is over and you’re
wondering where the time went, you can seldom even remember who called
you or why. Even if some of the calls were important, they may not have been
worth interrupting your flow. But who’s got the nerves to wait out a ringing
phone? The very thought of it makes you tense between the shoulders.
Visit to an Alternate Reality
Now just relax and imagine a less complicated world in which the phone has
not yet been invented. In such a world, you write a note to propose lunch or
a meeting and you get a note in response. Everyone plans ahead a little bit
more. It’s common to take half an hour in the morning to read and answer
your mail. There are no loud bells in your life.
Wednesday mornings in this alternate reality are dedicated to meetings of
your company’s pension trust investment committee. Imagine for the moment
you are one of the employee representatives charged with watching where
the money is placed. On this particular Wednesday, an inventor is scheduled
to make a presentation to the committee. The inventor has plans to change
the world, if only you’ll invest in his new contraption. His name is A.G. Bell.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the BellOPhone!” (The man unwraps a large
black box with a crank on the side and an enormous bell attached to the top.)
“This is the future. We’re going to put one of these on every desk in America.
Homes, too! It will get to the point where people can hardly imagine a world
without them.”
As he warms up to his subject, he begins gesticulating enthusiastically
and hopping around the room to make his points. “BellOPhones everywhere you look, all of them hooked up together with wires under the street
or overhead. And now this is the really exciting part: You can get your
BellOPhone specifically connected to somebody else’s BellOPhone, even
though it may be all the way across the city or maybe in some other city.
And when you’ve connected it just by entering the code, you can make the
bell ring on the other fellow’s machine. Not just some rinky-dink bell, either,
but a real heart-stopper.”
He sets up a second device and connects it to the first, on the other side of
the room. By manipulating a dial on the face of the first, he causes the other
machine to come alive. It gives off a loud BBRRRRIINNNGGGG! After half a
second, it rings again and then again and again, deafeningly.
“Now, what’s a fellow got to do to stop this ringing? He’s got to race
over to his BellOPhone and pick up the receiver.” He picks up the receiver
on the ringing device and hands it to one of the committee members.
Then he bounds back to the other side of the room and starts shouting
into the mouthpiece of the originating device. “‘Hello! Hello! Can you
hear me?’ See that, I’ve got his complete attention. Now I can sell him
something, or get him to lend me money or try to change his religion or
whatever I want!”
The committee is stunned. You raise your hand and venture a question,
“Since nobody could possibly have missed the first ring, why bother to
repeat it?”
“Ah, that’s the beauty of the BellOPhone,” says A.G. “It never gives you
the chance to wonder whether you want to answer it or not. No matter what
you’re involved in at the time it rings, no matter how engrossed you are, you
drop everything to answer it. Otherwise, you know it will just keep on ringing. We’re going to sell billions of these things and never ever allow any to
be sold that rings only once.”
The committee goes into a huddle, but it doesn’t take very long to come
up with a judgment. You all decide without a dissenting voice to throw this
turkey out the door. The device is so disruptive that if you were ever dumb
enough to allow it to be installed, nobody would ever get any work done
around the office. A few years’ effect of the BellOPhone and we’d all be reduced to buying goods from Taiwan and Korea. And our country might even
have a negative balance of trade.
Tales from the Crypt
Of course, there’s no turning the calendar back. The telephone is here to stay.
You can’t get rid of it, nor would you probably want to. You certainly can’t
remove phones from people’s desks without causing them to revolt. But there
are certain steps that can be taken to minimize the negative impact of interruptive calls. The most important of these is to realize how much we have
allowed the telephone to dominate our time allocation.
Do you often interrupt a discussion with co-workers or friends to answer a
phone? Of course you do. You don’t even consider not answering the phone.
Yet what you’re doing is a violation of the common rules of fairness, taking
people out of order, just because they insist loudly (BBRRRRIINNNGGGG!) on
your attention. Not only do you do this to others, you let them do it to you.
And you’re so inured to this abuse that you hardly take note of it. Only in
the most outrageous cases is it clear that something is definitely wrong with
such behavior.
Back in my twenties, I was standing in line at the parts department of the New
York dealer for Morgan Motorcars Limited. I had a nonfunctioning Morgan (the
only kind) and was hoping to get some new carburetor needles. People who drive
British sports cars are undoubtedly masochists, but the treatment in that parts
line was just too much. The clerk took one phone call after another while everyone in line waited. When I got to the head of the line, he took four calls in quick
succession before I could get in a single word. I began thinking, Why should people calling from the comfort of their homes get priority over those of us standing
here in this stupid line? Why should those mere window shoppers be taken ahead
of customers with money in their hands, ready to buy? In a state of pure red
rage, I suggested that he let the phone ring for a while and take people ahead of
bells. To my surprise, he was more annoyed by my behavior than I was by his. He
informed me very huffily that phones get priority over people, and that was all
there was to it. My not liking it was as pointless as not liking the Atlantic Ocean.
The facts of life weren’t going to change just to suit me.
—TDM
It is natural that the telephone should have reshaped somewhat the way we
do business, but it ought not to have blinded us to the effects of the interruptions. At the least, managers ought to be alert to the effect that interruption
can have on their own people who are trying to get something done. But
often it’s the manager who is the worst offender. One of the programmers in
the 1985 Coding War Games wrote on his environmental survey, “When my
boss is out, he has his calls switched to me.” What could that manager have
been thinking? What was going on in the mind of the systems department
head who wrote this in a memo:
It has come to my attention that many of you, when you are busy,
are letting your phones ring for three rings and thus get switched
over to one of the secretaries. With all these interruptions, the
secretaries can never get any productive work done. The official
policy here is that when you’re at your desk you will answer your
phone before the third ring....
A Modified Telephone Ethic
Enough is enough. The path toward sanity in working conditions is a new attitude toward interruptions and toward the telephone. People who are charged
with getting work done must have some peace and quiet to do it in. That
means periods of total freedom from interruptions. When they want to work
in flow, they have to have some efficient, acceptable way of ignoring incoming calls. “Acceptable” means the corporate culture realizes that people may
sometimes choose to be unavailable for interruption by phone. “Efficient”
means that they don’t have to wait out the bell in order to get back to work.
There are workable schemes to help people free themselves from phones
and other interruptions when they find it necessary. (Some of these cost
money, and thus will be possible only in organizations whose long-term view
extends beyond next Tuesday.)
When electronic mail was first proposed, most of us thought that the great
value of it would be the saving in paper. That turns out to be trivial, however,
compared to the saving in reimmersion time. The big difference between a
phone call and an electronic mail message is that the phone call interrupts
and the e-mail does not; the receiver deals with it at his or her own convenience. The amount of traffic going through these systems proves that priority “at the receiver’s convenience” is acceptable for the great majority of
business communications. After a period of acclimatization, workers begin to
use electronic mail in preference to intra-company calls. It doesn’t make all
the calls go away, only most.
Most of us now have perfectly acceptable voice-mail and e-mail. The trick
isn’t in the technology; it is in the changing of habits. (Gentle reader, please
note this recurring theme.) We have to learn to ask, Does this kind of news or
question deserve an interrupt? Can I continue to get work done while I wait
for an answer? Does this message need immediate recognition? If not, how
long can it wait without causing a problem?
Once you ask these questions, your best mode of communication is usually pretty obvious.
Incompatible Multitasking
When you’re doing think-intensive work like design, interruptions are productivity killers. When you’re also doing sales and marketing support for the
product you and your colleagues are designing, then you have to take every
single call that comes in. Same with user support for another product.
To the extent that knowledge workers are required to multitask, their managers need to take account of the flow requirements of the different tasks.
Mixing flow and highly interruptive activities is a recipe for nothing but
frustration. In particular, it assures that no reasonable telephone ethic (“Leave me alone. I’m working.”) can emerge.
More important than any gimmick you introduce is a change in attitude.
People must learn that it’s okay sometimes not to answer their phones,
and their managers need to understand that as well. That’s the character of
knowledge workers’ work: The quality of their time is important, not just its
quantity.
A cursory reading of this chapter might leave you thinking that the entire
message is,
telephone: bad; e-mail: good
but it’s a bit more complicated than that. More on this subject in Chapter 33,
“E(vil) Mail.”
12 Bring Back the Door
There are some prevalent symbols of success and failure in creating a
sensible workplace. The most obvious symbol of success is the door.
When there are sufficient doors, workers can control noise and interruptibility to suit their changing needs. The most obvious symbol of failure is
the paging system. Organizations that regularly interrupt everyone to locate
one person are showing themselves to be totally insensitive to the imperatives
of a work-conducive environment.
Manipulate these symbols and you not only call attention to your concern
for a workable environment, you also reap the immediate associated advantage: People can get on with the work. But it sounds like a tall order, to get
rid of the paging system and bring back the door. Is it beyond our capacity to
effect these changes?
The Show Isn’t Over Till the Fat Lady Sings
The degradation of working conditions that has affected most of us over the
past decades has depended on the consent of the victim. That doesn’t mean
that one such victim could have halted the trend by saying, “No, I won’t
work in noisy, cramped, exposed space.” But it does mean that we as a group
haven’t hollered loud enough and often enough about the counterproductive
side effects of saving money on space.
While most of us believed that the trend toward noisier, tighter space was
hurting productivity, we kept silent, because we lacked the definitive statistical evidence that proved our case. The Furniture Police, of course, didn’t
provide any proof at all to support their contention that people would be just
as productive working cheek-by-jowl as they had been in a more sensible
environment. They just asserted that it was true.
We need to learn from them, learn to fight fire with fire. So, the first step toward a sane environment is a program of repeated assertion. If you believe that
the environment is working against you, you’ve got to start saying so. You’ll
need to create a forum for other people to chime in, too, perhaps with a survey
of people’s assessment of their working conditions. (In one such survey at a client company, workers cited seven negative aspects of their work, things they
thought of as productivity-limiters. Of these, the first four were noise-related.)
As people begin to realize that they aren’t alone in their feelings, environmental awareness increases. And with this increased awareness, two good
things begin to happen: First, the environment improves a bit as people try
to be more thoughtful about noise and interruption; and second, the consent
of the victim is withdrawn. It now becomes harder for upper management to
take any other step to improve productivity without first paying some attention to the environment.
Don’t expect the Establishment to roll over and play dead just because you
begin your campaign. There are (at least) three counterarguments bound to
surface almost immediately:
• People don’t care about glitzy office space. They’re too intelligent for
that. And the ones who do care are just playing status games.
• Maybe noise is a problem, but there are cheaper ways to deal with it
than mucking around with the physical layout. We could just pipe in
white noise or Muzak and cover up the disturbance.
• Enclosed offices don’t make for a vital environment. We want people
to interact productively, and that’s what they want, too. So walls and
doors would be a step in the wrong direction.
We deal with these objections in the next three subsections.
The Issue of Glitz
It’s true that people don’t care much about glitz. In one study after another,
workers failed to give much weight to decor in choosing, for instance, among
variously colored panels and fixtures. The feeling seemed to be that depressing surroundings would be counterproductive, but as long as the office wasn’t
depressing, then you could happily ignore it and get down to work. If all
we’re shooting for is an ignorable workplace, then money spent on highfashion decor is a waste.
The fact that workers don’t care a lot about appearances is often misinterpreted to mean that they don’t care a lot about any of the attributes of
the workplace. If you ask them specifically about noise, privacy, and table
and counter space, though, you’ll hear some strongly felt opinions that these
characteristics matter a lot. This finding is consistent with the idea of an ignorable workplace as ideal; one can’t ignore a workplace that is forever interrupting, paging, and generally harassing the worker.
We find it particularly distressing to hear workers’ concerns about their
environment dismissed as status-seeking, because it’s more often the case
that higher management is guilty of status-seeking in designing the workers’
space. The person who is working hard to deliver a high-quality product on
time is not concerned with office appearances, but the boss sometimes is. So
we see the paradoxical phenomenon that totally unworkable space is gussied
up expensively and pointlessly with plush carpets, black and chrome furniture, corn plants that get more space than workers, and elaborate panels. The
next time someone proudly shows you around a newly designed office, think
hard about whether it’s the functionality of the space that is being touted or
its appearance. All too often, it’s the appearance.
Appearance is stressed far too much in workplace design. What is more
relevant is whether the workplace lets you work or inhibits you. Workconducive office space is not a status symbol, it’s a necessity. Either you
pay for it by shelling out what it costs, or you pay for it in lost productivity.
Creative Space
In response to workers’ gripes about noise, you can either treat the symptom
or treat the cause. Treating the cause means choosing isolation in the form of
noise barriers—walls and doors—and these cost money. Treating the symptom
is much cheaper. When you install Muzak or some other form of pink noise,
the disruptive noise is drowned out at small expense. You can save even more
money by ignoring the problem altogether so that people have to resort to
iPods and headphones to protect themselves from the noise. If you take either
of these approaches, you should expect to incur an invisible penalty in one
aspect of workers’ performance: They will be less creative.
During the 1960s, researchers at Cornell University conducted a series of
tests on the effects of working with music. They polled a group of computer
science students and divided the students into two groups, those who liked to
have music in the background while they worked (studied) and those who did
not. Then they put half of each group together in a silent room, and the other
half of each group in a different room equipped with earphones and a musical selection. Participants in both rooms were given a programming problem
to work out from specification. To no one’s surprise, participants in the two
rooms performed about the same in speed and accuracy of programming. As
any kid who does his arithmetic homework with the music on knows, the part
of the brain required for arithmetic and related logic is unbothered by music—
there’s another brain center that listens to the music.
The Cornell experiment, however, contained a hidden wild card. The specification required that an output data stream be formed through a series of
manipulations on numbers in the input data stream. For example, participants
had to shift each number two digits to the left and then divide by one hundred and so on, perhaps completing a dozen operations in total. Although the
specification never said it, the net effect of all the operations was that each
output number was necessarily equal to its input number. Some people realized this and others did not. Of those who figured it out, the overwhelming
majority came from the quiet room.
Many of the everyday tasks performed by professional workers are done in
the serial processing center of the left brain. Music will not interfere particularly with this work, since it’s the brain’s holistic right side that digests music.
But not all of the work is centered in the left brain. There is that occasional
breakthrough that makes you say “Ahah!” and steers you toward an ingenious
bypass that may save months or years of work. The creative leap involves
right-brain function. If the right brain is busy listening to “1,001 Strings” on
Muzak, the opportunity for a creative leap is lost.
The creativity penalty exacted by the environment is insidious. Since creativity is a sometime thing anyway, we often don’t notice when there is less
of it. People don’t have a quota for creative thoughts. The effect of reduced
creativity is cumulative over a long period. The organization is less effective, people grind out the work without a spark of excitement, and the best
people leave.
Vital Space
The case against enclosed offices sooner or later gets around to the “sterility” of
working alone. But enclosed offices need not be one-person offices. The two- or
three- or four-person office makes a lot more sense, particularly if office groupings can be made to align with work groups. The worker who needs to spend
50 percent of his time with one other person will spend most of that time with a
particular person. These two are natural candidates to share an office.
Even in open-plan offices, co-workers should be encouraged to modify
the grid to put their areas together into small suites. When this is allowed,
people become positively ingenious in laying out the area to serve all their
needs: work space, meeting space, and social space. Since they tend to be in
interaction mode together or simultaneously in flow mode, they have less
noise clash with each other than they would with randomly selected neighbors. The space has a vital quality because interaction is easy and natural. A
degree of control over their space is viewed as an additional benefit.
Breaking the Corporate Mold
What could be less threatening than a proposal to allow people to reorganize open-plan seating into shared suites instead of individual cubicles? One
of the great benefits of the kind of “office system” (that is, no offices) that
your company may have purchased is its flexibility. At least that’s what the
EZ-Whammo Panel System brochure says. So it should be easy enough to move
things around. Letting people form suites may seem non-threatening, but we
predict that someone in the upper reaches of the organization will hate the idea.
The problem is that the hallowed principle of uniformity is violated. By making everything uniform, the “owner” of a territory exercises and demonstrates
control. Like the gardener who plants seeds exactly under a taut string so that
the carrots will grow in a perfect row, this manager is threatened by the kind of
minor disorder that nature (in this case, people’s human nature) prefers.
The inconvenient fact of life is that the best workplace is not going to be
infinitely replicable. Vital work-conducive space for one person is not exactly
the same as that for someone else. If you let them, your people will make
their space into whatever they need it to be and the result is that it won’t be
uniform. Each person’s space and each team’s space will have a definite character of its own. If it didn’t, they’d go back and alter it until it did.
Management, at its best, should make sure there is enough space, enough
quiet, and enough ways to ensure privacy so that people can create their own
sensible work space. Uniformity has no place in this view. You have to grin
and bear it when people put up odd pictures or clutter their desks or move
the furniture around or merge their offices. When they’ve got it just the way
they want it, they’ll be able to put it out of their minds entirely and get on
with the work.
13 Taking Umbrella Steps
For this final chapter on the office environment, we look into characteristics of an ideal workplace, trying to shed some light on concerns
such as these:
• What kind of space would support your workers best to make them
comfortable, happy, and productive?
• What form of work space would make these workers feel best about
themselves and about their work?
If you work in a typical, noisy, and dreadfully uniform corporate space,
such questions may seem almost cruel. But thinking about ideal space is
worthwhile. Someday, you may be in a position to make it happen. Even today, you may be called upon to provide some input to the process of workspace improvement. It’s sensible to indulge yourself a bit on the subject of
space, just to know where you ought to be headed. Where you ought to be
headed, in our opinion, is toward a work space that has certain time-proven
characteristics.
There is one timeless way of building.
It is thousands of years old, and the same today as it has
always been.
The great traditional buildings of the past, the villages and tents
and temples in which man feels at home, have always been made
by people who were very close to the center of this way. It is not
possible to make great buildings, or great towns, beautiful places,
places where you feel yourself, places where you feel alive, except
by following this way. And, as you will see, this way will lead
anyone who looks for it to buildings which are themselves as ancient in their form, as the trees and hills, and as our faces are.
—Christopher Alexander, The Timeless Way of Building1
Christopher Alexander, architect and philosopher, is best known for his
observations on the design process. He frames his concepts in an architectural idiom, but some of his ideas have had influence far beyond the field of
architecture. (Alexander’s book Notes on the Synthesis of Form, for example,
is considered a kind of holy book by designers of all kinds.) Together with
his colleagues at the Center for Environmental Structure, Alexander set out
to codify the elements of good architectural design. The resultant work is a
three-volume set entitled The Timeless Way of Building. The effect of this
work is still being debated. Alexander believes that most modern architecture
is bankrupt, and so most modern architects are understandably a bit defensive
about the man and his ideas. But when you hold these books in your own
hands and examine their premises against your own experience, it’s hard not
to take Alexander’s side. His philosophy of interior space is a compelling one.
It helps you to understand what it is that has made you love certain spaces
and never feel comfortable in others.
Alexander’s Concept of Organic Order
Imagine that your organization is about to build a complex of new space.
What is the first step in this process? Almost certainly, it is development of a
master plan. In most cases, this is a first and fatal deviation from The Timeless Way of Building. Vital, exciting, and harmonious spaces are never developed this way. The master plan envisions hugeness and grandeur, steel and
concrete spans, modular approaches and replication to make an enormous
whole of identical components. The result is sterile uniformity and space that
doesn’t work for anyone except the one Ego to whom it stands as a tribute.
Most monolithic corporate space can only be understood in terms of its
symbolic value to the executives who caused it to be built. This is their mark
on the firmament, the lasting accomplishment they leave behind. They gloat,
“Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!” Despair, of course, is exactly all
you can do. Your cubicle, infinitely repeated to the horizon, leaves you feeling like a numbered cog. Whether it is TransAmerica’s Orwellian tower in San
Francisco or AT&T’s Madison Avenue mausoleum, the result is depressingly
the same: a sense of suffocation to the individual.
The master plan is an attempt to impose totalitarian order. A single and
therefore uniform vision governs the whole. In no two places is the same
function achieved differently. A side effect of the totalitarian view is that the
conceptualization of the facility is frozen in time.
In place of the master plan, Alexander proposes a meta-plan. It is a philosophy by which a facility can grow in an evolutionary fashion to achieve
the needs of its occupants. The meta-plan has three parts:
• A philosophy of piecemeal growth
• A set of patterns or shared design principles governing growth
• Local control of design by those who will occupy the space
Under the meta-plan, facilities evolve through a series of small steps into
campuses and communities of related buildings. By respecting the shared
principles, they retain a harmony of vision, but not a sameness. Like mature
villages, they begin to take on an evolved charm. This is what Alexander calls
organic order, as described below and as shown in Figure 13–1.
This natural or organic order emerges when there is perfect balance between the needs of the individual parts of the environment,
and the needs of the whole. In an organic environment, every place
is unique and the different places also cooperate, with no parts
left over, to create a global whole—a whole which can be identified
by everyone who is a part of it.
The University of Cambridge is a perfect example of organic order.
One of the most beautiful features of this university is the way the
colleges—St. Johns, Trinity, Trinity Hall, Clare, Kings, Peterhouse,
Queens—lie between the main street of the town and the river.
Each college is a system of residential courts, each college has its
entrance on the street, and opens onto the river; each college has
its own small bridge that crosses the river, and leads to the meadows beyond; each college has its own boathouse and its own walks
along the river. But while each college repeats the same system,
each one has its own unique character. The individual courts, entrances, bridges, boathouses and walks are all different.
—Christopher Alexander, The Oregon Experiment
Patterns
Each of the patterns of The Timeless Way of Building is an abstraction about
successful space and interior order. The central volume of the set, A Pattern
Language, presents 253 of these patterns and weaves them into a coherent
view of architecture. Some of the patterns have to do with light and roominess, others with decor, or with the relationship between interior and exterior space, or with space for adults, for children, for elders, or with traffic
movement around and through enclosed space. Each pattern is presented as
a simple architectural aphorism, together with a picture that illustrates it and
a lesson. In between, there is a discussion of the whys and wherefores of the
pattern. As an example, consider the following illustration and extract from
Pattern 183, Workspace Enclosure:
People cannot work effectively if their workspace is too enclosed or
too exposed. A good workspace strikes the balance.... You feel
more comfortable in a workspace if there is a wall behind you....
There should be no blank wall closer than eight feet in front of you.
(As you work, you want to occasionally look up and rest your eyes
by focusing them on something farther away than the desk. If there
3. Ibid., p. 46.
Figure 13–1 Swiss town, an example of organic order, without a master plan.3
CHAPTER 13 TAKING UMBRELLA STEPS
3
is a blank wall closer than eight feet your eyes will not change focus and they get no relief. In this case you feel too enclosed.)...
You should not be able to hear noises very different from the kind
you make, from your workplace. Your workplace should be sufficiently enclosed to cut out noises which are a different kind from
the ones you make. There is some evidence that one can concentrate on a task better if people around him are doing the same
thing, not something else.... Workspaces should allow you to face
in different directions.
—Christopher Alexander, A Pattern Language
To complement the 253 basic patterns, teams need to prepare a set of new
patterns tailored to the specific nature of their project. For the purposes of
the next four subsections, we have nominated ourselves to be one such team.
Our charter is to design sensible work space for people who make their living
by thinking. The four patterns we propose take aim at four of the worst failings of present-day institutional space. In forming these patterns, we borrow
heavily from those of our clients that have succeeded in creating successful
workplaces.
The First Pattern: Tailored Work Space from a Kit
Today’s modular cubicle is a masterpiece of compromise: It gives you no
meaningful privacy and yet still manages to make you feel isolated. You are
poorly protected from noise and disruption; indeed in some cases, sources of
noise and disruption are actively piped into your space. You’re isolated because that small lonely space excludes everyone but you (it’s kind of a toilet
stall without a toilet). The space makes it difficult to work alone and almost
impossible to participate in the social unit that might form around your work.
Individual modules give poor-quality space to the person working alone
and no space at all to the team. The alternative to this is to fashion space explicitly around the working groups. Each team needs identifiable public and
semiprivate space. Each individual needs protected private space.
Groups of people who have been assigned or have elected to work together
need to have a meaningful role in the design of their own space. Ideally, they
are aided in this by a central space-planning organization, whose job is to
find a chunk of space for the group: “I see there are three of you, so you’ll
be needing three hundred square feet or more. Yes, here’s a nice possibility.
Now let’s think about layout and furniture....” The team members and their
space counselor next begin to work out the possible ways their space could be
arranged (see Figure 13–3).
Because of the requirement that workers be allowed to participate in
the design of their own space, whatever system of desks and fixtures the
company uses has to perform in a truly modular fashion. Instead of fitting
only into a simple grid, the furnishings must be useful in myriad different
configurations.
The Second Pattern: Windows
Modern office politics makes a great class distinction in the matter of allocating windows. Most participants emerge as losers in the window sweepstakes.
People who wouldn’t think of living in a home without windows end up
spending most of their daylight time in windowless work space. Alexander
has very little patience with windowless space: “Rooms without a view are
like prisons for the people who have to stay in them.”
We are trained to accept windowless office space as inevitable. The company would love for every one of us to have a window, we hear, but that just
isn’t realistic. Sure it is. There is a perfect proof that sufficient windows can
be built into a space without excessive cost. The existence proof is the hotel,
any hotel. You can’t even imagine being shown a hotel room with no window. You wouldn’t stand for it. (And this is for a space you’re only going to
sleep in.) So hotels are constructed with lots of windows.
The problem of windowless space is a direct result of a square aspect ratio.
If buildings are constructed in a fairly narrow shape, there need be no shortage of windows. A sensible limit for building width is thirty feet, such as the
building shown in Figure 13–4.
Limit buildings to thirty feet in width? Can this be a serious proposal?
What about costs? What about the economies of scale that come with building enormous indoor spaces? Some years ago, the Danish legislature passed
a law that every worker must have his or her own window. This law has
forced builders to construct long, narrow buildings, planned along the lines
of hotels and apartment buildings. In studies conducted after the law had
been in effect for a while, there was no very noticeable change in cost of
space per square meter. That doesn’t mean the narrow configuration had no
cost significance, only that the increase, if any, was too small to show up
in the data. Even if there is a higher cost per worker to house people in the
more agreeable space, the added expense is likely to make good sense because of the savings it provides in other areas. The real problem is that the
cost is in a highly visible category (space and services), while the offsetting
advantage is in poorly measured and therefore invisible categories (increased
productivity and reduced turnover).
Figure 13–4 Women’s dormitory at Swarthmore College.
The Third Pattern: Indoor and Outdoor Space
空间过于封闭或开放,人们都不能有效工作 一个好的工作空间需要找到二者的平衡……
如果在你的工作空间背后是一面墙,你会感觉舒服很多……
距离你前面的2.5米处,不应该立着一堵光秃秃的墙。
(当你工作时,你想要不时抬头往远处看看,让你的眼睛聚焦在一个比桌面要远很多的地方从而得到休息。
如果在2.5米前立着一堵墙,那么你的眼睛很难调整聚焦点,也就得不到休息。在这种情况下,你会觉得空间太封闭了,)……
你不应该听到与自己工作空间发出的声音差异很大的噪声。工作空间应该是足够封闭的,能够屏蔽掉这类噪声。
一些证据显示,如果四周的人都做着同类事情,那么完成任务的情况要好于做不同事情的情况……
工作空间应该允许你面朝不同的方向。
——克里斯托弗·亚历山大,《模式语言》
“没有窗外风景的房子,对于居住在里边的人而言,就像是牢笼。”
造成没有足够窗户问题的直接原因就是长宽比例。
假如建筑物设计为狭长的形状,那么不应该有缺少窗户的情况。
关于室内空间,一种年代悠久的模式是随着你向室内移动而形成的一种渐进的“亲密梯度”。
空间的最外层是外来人士(邮差、交易员或销售人员)可以进出的。
然后,移向空间的内部,则是为内部人员(工作组或者家庭)保留的空间。
最后,则是完全个人的空间。
在家里,从门廊到客厅到厨房到卧室再到洗手间,你可以感受到这一模式。
在健康的工作环境里,你应该也能够感受到。
如果你在一个拥有室外建筑的地方工作过,就很难想象将你自己限制在室内环境工作。
The narrow configuration also makes it possible to achieve greater integration between indoor and outdoor space. If you’ve ever had the opportunity to
work in space that had an outdoor component, it’s hard to imagine ever again
limiting yourself to working entirely indoors.
Upon formation of The Atlantic Systems Guild in 1983, we set out to
find Manhattan space to serve as a guild hall and office for New York-based
members. The space we found was the top floor of a Greenwich Village ship
chandlery. It consisted of two-thousand square feet indoors and a thousandsquare-foot outdoor terrace. The terrace became our spring, summer, and fall
conference room and eating area. For at least half the year, the outdoor space
was in use virtually full-time. Whatever work could be done outdoors was
done outdoors.
Before you dismiss our solution as an impossible luxury, think about this
fact: We paid less than a third as much per square foot as the Manhattan
average. Our space cost a lot less because it was not part of a monolith. You
can’t accommodate thousands of people centrally in such space. You’d have
to hunt out hundreds of special situations in order to get a large staff into
anything like the situation we came up with. And when you did that, they
would not all have identical facilities. On a given sunny day, some of your
people would be working on terraces while others were in gardens or arbors
or courtyards. How un-uniform.
The Fourth Pattern: Public Space
An age-old pattern of interior space is one that has a smooth “intimacy
gradient” as you move toward the interior. At the extremity is space where
outsiders (messengers and tradesmen and salesmen) may penetrate. Then
you move into space that is reserved for insiders (the work group or the
family), and finally to space that is only for the individual. This pattern
applies to your home as you move from foyer to living room to kitchen
to bedroom to bathroom. And it should be true as well of a healthy
workplace.
At the entrance to the workplace should be some area that belongs to the
whole group. It constitutes a kind of hearth for the group. Further along the
intimacy gradient should be space for the tightly knit work groups to interact
and to socialize. Finally, there is the protected quiet thinking space for one
person to work alone.
Group interaction space needs tables and seating for the whole group,
writing surfaces, and areas to post whatever group members want to post.
Ideally, there should also be a space for members to prepare simple meals and
eat together:
Without communal eating, no human group can hold together. Give
each [working group] a place where people can eat together. Make
the common meal a regular event. In particular, start a common
lunch in every workplace so that a genuine meal around a common
table (not out of boxes, machines or bags) becomes an important,
comfortable and daily event.... In our own work group at the
Center, we found this worked most beautifully when we took it in
turns to cook the lunch. The lunch became an event: a gathering:
something that each of us put our love and energy into.
—Christopher Alexander, A Pattern Language7
The Pattern of the Patterns
The patterns that crop up again and again in successful space are there because they are in fundamental accord with characteristics of the human creature. They allow him to function as a human. They emphasize his essence—he
is at once an individual and a member of a group. They deny neither his individuality nor his inclination to bond into teams. They let him be what he is.
A common element that runs through all the patterns (both ours and Alexander’s) is reliance upon non-replicable formulas. No two people have to
have exactly the same work space. No two coffee areas have to be identical,
nor any two libraries or sitting areas. The texture and shape and organization of space are fascinating issues to the people who occupy that space. The
space needs to be isomorphic to the work that goes on there. And people at all
levels need to leave their mark on the workplace.
Return to Reality
Now, what does all this have to do with you? If you work for a large institution, you’re not likely to convince the powers that be to admit the error of
their ways and allow everyone to build a Timeless-Way sort of workplace.
And perhaps you don’t want to work for a small company in which charming
and idiosyncratic workplaces occur rather naturally.
There is nonetheless a possible way to put your people into vital, productive space. The possibility arises because master-planned space is almost always full, and it’s a continual hassle to find a place to house any new effort.
If you run one of those as-yet-unhoused efforts, turn your sights outward.
Petition to move your group out of the corporate monolith. You may be
turned down, but then again, since there’s no space for you in-house, you
may not. Put your people to work to find and arrange their own space. Never
mind that it may not have the same white plastic wastebaskets or corduroycovered partitions as the headquarters’ space. If you can pick up a lease on a
run-down fraternity house or garden apartment that would make cheap, idiosyncratic, fascinating quarters for your people, well then, so what that they
will be housed differently from everyone else in the company? If it’s okay
with them, who cares?
You don’t have to solve the space problem for the whole institution. If you
can solve it just for your own people, you’re way ahead. And if your group
is more productive and has lower turnover, that just proves you’re a better
manager.
It almost always makes sense to move a project or work group out of
corporate space. Work conducted in ad hoc space has got more energy and a
higher success rate. People suffer less from noise and interruption and frustration. The quirky nature of their space helps them form a group identity.
If you are part of the lofty reaches of upper management, then decide which
projects matter most. Move the key ones out. It’s a sad comment that an important piece of work is likely to fare better off-site. It’s sad but true. Make it
work for you.
Part III: The Right People 正确的人
The final outcome of any effort is more a function of who does the work
than of how the work is done. Yet modern management science pays
almost no attention to hiring and keeping the right people. Any management course you’re likely to take barely gives lip service to these aspects.
Management science is much more concerned with the boss’s role as principal strategist and tactician of the work. You are taught to think of management as playing out one of those battle simulation board games. There are no
personalities or individual talents to be reckoned with in such a game; you
succeed or fail based on your decisions of when and where to deploy your
faceless resources.
In the next four chapters, we will attempt to undo the damage of the
manager-as-strategist view, and replace it with an approach that encourages
you to court success with this formula:
• Get the right people.
• Make them happy so they don’t want to leave.
• Turn them loose.
Of course, you have to coordinate the efforts of even the best team so that
all the individual contributions add up to an integrated whole. But that’s the
relatively mechanical part of management. For most efforts, success or failure
is in the cards from the moment the team is formed and the initial directions
set out. With talented people, the manager can almost coast from that point on.
14 The Hornblower Factor
C.S. Forester’s series of novels on the Napoleonic Wars follows the exploits of Horatio Hornblower, an officer in
England’s Royal Navy. On one level, these are pure adventure stories set in a well-researched historical framework. On another
level, the Hornblower books can be read as an elaborate management analogy. The job of running a square-rigged frigate or ship of the line is not so
different from that of managing a project or a company division. The tasks
of staffing, training, work allocation, scheduling, and tactical support will be
familiar to anyone involved in management today.
Hornblower is the ultimate manager. His career advanced from midshipman to admiral through the same blend of cleverness, daring, political maneuvering, and good luck that has promoted any of the corporate high-fliers
featured in the pages of Business Week. There is a real-world management
lesson to be learned from his every decision.
Born versus Made
A recurrent theme through all the novels is
Hornblower’s gloomy presentiment that achievers are born, not made.
Many of the subordinates that fall to him through luck of the draw are undependable or stupid.
He knows that they all will let him down at some key moment. (They always do.)
He also knows that the few good men who come his way are his only real resource.
Sizing them up quickly and knowing when to depend on them are Hornblower’s great talents.
In our egalitarian times, it’s almost unthinkable to write someone off as
intrinsically incompetent. There is supposed to be inherent worth in every
human being. Managers are supposed to use their leadership skills to bring
out untapped qualities in each subordinate. This shaping of raw human material is considered the essence of management.
That view may be more comforting than Hornblower’s glum assessment,
and it certainly is more flattering to managers, but it doesn’t seem very realistic to us. Parents do have a shaping effect on their children over the years,
and individuals can obviously bring about huge changes in themselves. But
managers are unlikely to change their people in any meaningful way. People usually don’t stay put long enough, and the manager just doesn’t have
enough leverage to make a difference in their nature. So the people who work
for you through whatever period will be more or less the same at the end as
they were at the beginning. If they’re not right for the job from the start, they
never will be.
All of this means that getting the right people in the first place is allimportant. Fortunately, you don’t have to depend entirely on the luck of the
draw. You may get to play a significant part in the hiring of new people or
the selection of new team members from within the company. If so, your skill
at these tasks will determine to a large extent your eventual success.
The Uniform Plastic Person
Even novice managers, setting out to hire staff for the first time, know something about the principles of good hiring. They know, for instance, that you
can’t hire based on appearance. The best-looking candidate is not one whit
more likely to deliver a good product than a candidate who is homely.
Everybody knows that, but oddly enough most hiring mistakes result from
too much attention to appearances and not enough to capabilities. This is not
just due to ignorance or shallowness on the part of the person doing the hiring. Evolution has planted in each of us a certain uneasiness toward people
who differ by very much from the norm. It is clear how this tendency serves
evolution’s purposes. You can observe this evolutionary defense in yourself
in your reactions to a horror film, for instance. The almost human “creature”
is much more upsetting than the mile-wide eyeless blob that slowly digests
Detroit.
As each individual matures, he or she learns to override the built-in bias
toward the norm in selecting friends and developing close relationships.
Though you may have learned that lesson long ago in your personal life, you
have to learn it all over again as you develop your hiring skills.
You probably don’t feel that you have an uncontrollable tendency to hire
attractive or “normal” looking people. So why are we talking about this at all?
Because it’s not just your individual tendency toward the norm that affects
your hiring, it’s also your organization’s subliminal imposition of a norm of
its own. Each person you hire becomes part of your little empire and also part
of your boss’s empire and that of the next boss up the line. The standard you
apply is not just your own. You’re hiring on behalf of the whole corporate
ladder above you. The perceived norm of these upper managers is working on
you each time you consider making a new offer. That almost unsensed pressure is pushing toward the company average, encouraging you to hire people
that look like, sound like, and think like everybody else. In a healthy corporate culture, this effect can be small enough to ignore. But when the culture
is unhealthy, it’s difficult or impossible to hire the one person who matters
most, the one who doesn’t think like all the rest.
The need for uniformity is a sign of insecurity on the part of management.
Strong managers don’t care when team members cut their hair or whether
they wear ties. Their pride is tied only to their staff’s accomplishments.
Standard Dress
Uniformity is so important to insecure authoritarian regimes (parochial
schools and armies, for example) that they even impose dress codes. Different
lengths of skirt or colors of jacket are threatening, and so they are forbidden.
Nothing is allowed to mar the long rows of nearly identical troops. Accomplishment matters only to the extent it can be achieved by people who don’t
look different.
Companies, too, sometimes impose standards of dress. These are not so
extreme as to oblige strictly uniform attire, but they remove considerable
discretion from the individual. When this first happens, the effect is devastating. People can talk and think of nothing else. All useful work stops dead. The
most valuable people begin to realize that they aren’t appreciated for their
real worth, that their contributions to the work are not as important as their
haircuts and neckties. Eventually they leave. And the rest of the company
plods on, trying to prove that having the right people wasn’t so important
after all.
Throughout these pages, we’ve suggested remedies for some of the things
that can go wrong in organizations. But if what’s gone wrong in yours is
promulgation of a formal standard of appearance, forget it. It’s too late for a
remedy. The organization is suffering from the last stages of brain death. The
corpse won’t topple over immediately, since there are so many hands trying
to prop it up. But propping up corpses is unsatisfying work. Get yourself a
new job.
Code Word: Professional
When I alluded to management insecurity as the cause of arbitrary standardization, participants at one in-house seminar could barely restrain themselves. They
all had stories to tell. One of the silliest had to do with the company’s reaction to
use of the coffee area microwave to pop some popcorn during afternoon break.
Of course, popping corn leaves an unmistakable smell. Someone from the rarified
altitudes of upper management smelled the smell and reacted. He declared in a
memo, “Popcorn is not professional,” and so would henceforth be forbidden.
—TRL
An anti-popcorn standard or even a dress standard might be understandable
if you worked in the Customer Relations Department or in Sales. But in any
other area, it makes no sense at all. There is seldom if ever a client wandering
through such space. These “standards” have nothing to do with the organization’s image as perceived by outsiders. It’s the image perceived by insiders
that matters. The insiders in question—typically second- and third-level managers with shaky self-confidence—are uncomfortable with any kind of behavior that is different from average. They need to impose safely homogenized
mores on those beneath them to demonstrate that they are in charge.
The term unprofessional is often used to characterize surprising and threatening behavior. Anything that upsets the weak manager is almost by definition unprofessional. So popcorn is unprofessional. Long hair is unprofessional if it grows
out of a male head, but perfectly okay if it grows out of a female head. Posters
of any kind are unprofessional. Comfortable shoes are unprofessional. Dancing
around your desk when something good happens is unprofessional. Giggling and
laughing is unprofessional. (It’s all right to smile, but not too often.)
Conversely, professional means unsurprising. You will be considered professional to the extent you look, act, and think like everyone else, a perfect drone.
Of course, this perverted sense of professionalism is pathological. In a
healthier organizational culture, people are thought professional to the extent
they are knowledgeable and competent.
Corporate Entropy
Entropy is levelness or sameness. The more it increases, the less potential
there is to generate energy or do work. In the corporation or other organization, entropy can be thought of as uniformity of attitude, appearance, and
thought process. Just as thermodynamic entropy is always increasing in the
universe, so, too, corporate entropy is on the rise:
SECOND THERMODYNAMIC LAW OF MANAGEMENT:
Entropy is always increasing in the organization.
That’s why most elderly institutions are tighter and a lot less fun than
sprightly young companies.
There is not much you can do about this as a global phenomenon, but
you’ve got to fight it within your own domain. The most successful manager
is the one who shakes up the local entropy to bring in the right people and let
them be themselves, even though they may deviate from the corporate norm.
Your organization may have rigor mortis, but your little piece of it can hop
and skip.
15 Let’s Talk about Leadership
Leadership on the job is rare, but talk about it is ubiquitous. Companies
talk about it all the time.
The talk is usually about the adroit exercise of organizational power to accomplish a given end.
It’s managers who lead. Managers are sent off to
leadership training to enable them to better use their authority to direct those
who work for them. In this view, leadership is something that happens down
the hierarchy—leaders at the top, followers at the bottom. You are led by the
person who is above you on the org. chart and you lead those whose boxes
on the chart lie under yours with lines directly down from your box.
Leadership as a Work-Extraction Mechanism
One of those dreadful “motivational” posters tells us,
“The speed of the leader sets the rate of the pack.”
This kind of leadership is a work-extraction mechanism.
Its purpose is to enhance not the quality of the experience but the quantity.
The reason you are being led is to get you to work harder, stay longer, and stop goofing off.
During the early part of the First World War, a young Russian journalist named Lev Davidovich Bronstein wrote home from the front with some
observations about leadership. His letters might have been lost, but since he
later became the revolutionary Trotsky, they are preserved.
In one letter he observes that
unless they are given side arms, the junior officers will be completely unable to lead their men into battle.
Using a gun to lead means you have to “lead” from behind.
This is what work-extraction leadership is all about.
The gun, in the workplace, is replaced with delegated authority and positional power.
Leadership as a Service
But the best leadership—the kind that people can mention only with evident
emotion and deep respect—is most often exercised by people without positional power. It happens outside the official hierarchy of delegated authority.
When I’m on my home turf, I play tennis two or three times a week in groups
organized by a charming fellow named Mike. Mike is our leader. It’s Mike who
decides the matchups: who plays with whom and against whom. He’s the one who
shuffles the players (16 of us on four courts) after each set so we all have different partners for all three sets. He invariably makes good pairings so that near the
end of a half hour you can look across the courts and see four scores like 5 to 4,
6 to 6, 7 to 6, and 5 to 5. He has a great booming voice, easy to hear even when
he is three courts away. He sets the meeting times, negotiates the schedules for
court time, and makes sure there are subs for anyone who needs to be away. Nobody gave Mike the job of leading the group; he just stepped up and took it. His
leadership is uncontested; the rest of us are just in awe of our good fortune that
he leads us as he does. He gets nothing for it except our gratitude and esteem.
—TDM
In this example, leadership is not about extracting anything from us; it’s
about service. The leadership that the Mikes of the world provide enables
their endeavors to go forth. While they sometimes set explicit directions,
their main role is that of a catalyst, not a director. They make it possible for
the magic to happen.
In order to lead without positional authority—without anyone ever appointing you leader—you have to do what Mike does:
• Step up to the task.
• Be evidently fit for the task.
• Prepare for the task by doing the required homework ahead of time.
• Maximize value to everyone.
• Do it all with humor and obvious goodwill.
It also helps to have charisma.
Leadership and Innovation
The propensity to lead without being given the authority to do so is what, in
organizations, distinguishes people that can innovate and break free of the
constraints that limit their competitors. Innovation is all about leadership,
and leadership is all about innovation. The rarity of the one is a direct result
of the rarity of the other.
Innovation is a subject whose talk:do ratio is even more out of whack than
that of leadership. Upper management in most companies talks a good game
on innovation. The party line goes something like this: “We need innovation
to survive. It is so important. Its importance simply cannot be overstated. No
sir. Innovation is reeealy, reeealy important. And innovation is everybody’s
job. In fact, it is probably the most important part of everybody’s job. Listen
up, everybody: Get out there and innovate.” Oh, and by the way,
• Nobody is given any time to innovate, since everyone is 100-percent
busy.
• Most innovation that happens anyway is distinctly unwelcome because
it requires accommodating change.
• Real innovation is likely to spread beyond the realm of the innovator,
and so he or she may be suspected of managing the organization from
below, a tendency that upper management tends to view with great
suspicion.
The net here is that it takes a bit of a rebel to help even the best innovation achieve its promise: rebel leadership. The innovator himself doesn’t have
to be a great leader, but someone has to be. What rebel leadership supplies
to this process is the time to innovate—you take a key person away from
doing billable work (this may constitute constructive disobedience on your
part) in order to pursue a nascent vision—and the hard push for whatever
reshaping the organization has to submit to in order to take advantage of the
innovation.
Since nobody ever knows how the next innovation may alter the organization, nobody knows enough to give permission to the key instigators to
do what needs to be done. That’s why leadership as a service almost always
operates without official permission.
Leadership: The Talk and the Do
At a recent Broadway performance of Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, I was
struck by a line that comes near the end of the final act. The protagonist, Willy
Loman, approaches his well-to-do neighbor, Charley, to ask for yet another small
loan. The sad contrast between Charley’s fortunes and Willy’s own failure is reflected in their sons: Willy’s son Biff has gone badly downhill, while Charley’s son,
Bernard, has become a successful lawyer. Charley makes the loan and tells Willy
proudly that Bernard is off to Washington, D.C., to argue a case before the Supreme Court. Imagine that, the United States Supreme Court.
“The Supreme Court!” Willy says. “And he didn’t even mention it!”
“He don’t have to—” Charley replies, “he’s gonna do it.”
—TRL
If companies were more inclined to let leadership arise naturally,
they wouldn’t need to produce so much hot air talking about it.
16 Hiring a Juggler
Circus Manager: How long have you been juggling?
Candidate: Oh, about six years.
Manager: Can you handle three balls, four balls, and five balls?
Candidate: Yes, yes, and yes.
Manager: Do you work with flaming objects?
Candidate: Sure.
Manager:... knives, axes, open cigar boxes, floppy hats?
Candidate: I can juggle anything.
Manager: Do you have a line of funny patter that goes with your
juggling?
Candidate: It’s hilarious.
Manager: Well, that sounds fine. I guess you’re hired.
Candidate: Umm... Don’t you want to see me juggle?
Manager: Gee, I never thought of that.
It would be ludicrous to think of hiring a juggler without first seeing him
perform. That’s just common sense. Yet when you set out to hire an engineer or a designer or a programmer or a group manager, the rules of common sense are often suspended. You don’t ask to see a design or a program or
anything. In fact, the interview is just talk.
You’re hiring a person to produce a product, presumably similar to those
he or she has made before. You need to examine a sample of those products
to see the quality of work the candidate does. That may seem obvious, but
it’s almost always overlooked by development managers. There is a surface
reserve at work when you meet for a job interview. There seems to be an
unwritten rule that says it’s okay to ask the candidate about past work but
not to ask to see it. Yet when you ask, candidates are almost always pleased
to bring along a sample.
The Portfolio
During one of our joint teaching gigs in western Canada, we got a call from a
computer science professor at the local technical college. He proposed to stop
by our hotel after class one evening and buy us beers in exchange for ideas.
That’s the kind of offer we seldom turn down. What we learned from him that
evening was almost certainly worth more than whatever he learned from us.
The teacher was candid about what he needed to be judged a success in
his work: He needed his students to get good job offers and lots of them. “A
Harvard diploma is worth something in and of itself, but our diploma isn’t
worth squat. If this year’s graduates don’t get hired fast, there are no students
next year and I’m out of a job.” So he had developed a formula to make his
graduates optimally attractive to the job market. Of course, he taught them
a diversity of modern techniques for system construction. He also had them
work on real applications for nearby companies and agencies. But the centerpiece of his formula was the portfolio that all students put together to show
samples of their work.
He described how his students had been coached to show off their portfolios as part of each interview:
I’ve brought along some samples of the kind of work I do. Here,
for instance, is a subroutine in C from one project and a set
of SAP scripts from another. As you can see in this portion, we
use the loop-with-exit extension advocated by Knuth, but aside
from that, it’s pure structured code, pretty much the sort of thing
that your company standard calls for. And here is the design that
this code was written from. And these are the leveled data flow
diagrams that make up the guts of our specification, and the associated data dictionary....
In the years since, we’ve often heard more about that obscure technical
college and those portfolios. We’ve met recruiters from as far away as Triangle Park, North Carolina, and Tampa, Florida, who regularly converge upon
that distant Canadian campus for a shot at its graduates.
Of course, this was a clever scheme of the professor’s to give added allure to his graduates, but what struck us most that evening was the report
that interviewers were always surprised by the portfolios. That meant they
weren’t regularly requiring all candidates to arrive with portfolios. Yet why
not? What could be more sensible than asking each candidate to bring along
some samples of work to the interview?
Aptitude Tests (Erghhhh)
If it’s so important that the new hire be good at the various skills used in the
job, why not design an aptitude test to measure those skills? Our industry has
had a long, irregular flirtation with the idea of aptitude testing. In the sixties,
the idea was positively in vogue. By now, you and your organization have
probably given up on the concept. In case you haven’t, we offer one good
reason that you ought to: The tests measure the wrong thing.
Aptitude tests are almost always oriented toward the tasks the person will
perform immediately after being hired. They test whether he or she is likely
to be good at statistical analysis or programming or whatever it is that’s required in the position. You can buy aptitude tests in virtually any technical
area, and they all tend to have fairly respectable track records at predicting
how well the new hire will perform. But so what? A successful new hire might
do those tasks for a few years and then move on to be team leader or a product manager or a project head. That person might end up doing the tasks that
the test measured for two years and then do other things for twenty.
The aptitude tests we’ve seen are mostly left-brain oriented. That’s because
the typical things new hires do are performed largely in the left brain. The things
they do later on in their career, however, are to a much greater degree rightbrain activities. Management, in particular, requires holistic thinking, heuristic
judgment, and intuition based upon experience. So the aptitude test may give
you people who perform better in the short term, but are less likely to succeed
later on. Maybe you should use an aptitude test but hire only those who fail it.
From your reading of this book, you’d hardly expect its authors to endorse
the idea of hiring through the use of aptitude tests. But it doesn’t follow that
aptitude tests are no good or that you ought not to be using them. You should
use them, just not for hiring. The typical aptitude test you buy or build can
be a wonderful self-assessment vehicle for your people. Frequent interesting
opportunities for private self-assessment are a must for workers in a healthy
organization. (More about this in Chapter 37, “Chaos and Order.”)
Holding an Audition
The business we’re in is more sociological than technological, more dependent on workers’ abilities to communicate with each other than their abilities
to communicate with machines. So the hiring process needs to focus on at
least some sociological and human communication traits. The best way we’ve
discovered to do this is through the use of auditions for job candidates.
The idea is simple enough. You ask a candidate to prepare a ten- or fifteenminute presentation on some aspect of past work. It could be about a new
technology and the experience with first trying it out, or about a management
lesson learned the hard way, or about a particularly interesting project. The
candidate chooses the subject. The date is set and you assemble a small audience made up of those who will be the new hire’s co-workers.
Of course, the candidate will be nervous, perhaps even reluctant to undertake such an experience. You’ll have to explain that all candidates are
nervous about the audition and give your reasons for holding one: to see the
various candidates’ communication skills, and to give the future co-workers
a part in the hiring process.
At the end of the audition and after the candidate has left, you hold a
debriefing of those present. Each one gets to comment on the person’s suitability for the job and whether he or she seems likely to fit well into the team.
Although it’s ultimately your responsibility to decide whether to hire or not,
the feedback from future co-workers can be invaluable. Even more important,
any new person hired is more likely to be accepted smoothly into the group,
since the other group members have had a voice in choosing the candidate.
My first experience with auditions was in hiring people to be consultants and instructors. My motivation in torturing these prospective hires was simple enough: I
wanted to get a sense of whether they were natural explainers of matters simple
or complex, or people who could be taught to explain such matters, or those who
could never explain anything to anyone. I also wanted some second opinions on
the matter, so I had those of my people who were in the office at the time of
the audition sit in on the presentation. Over five years, we conducted nearly two
hundred auditions.
It soon became clear that the audition process served to accelerate the socialization process between a new hire and the existing staff members. A successful
audition was a kind of certification as a peer. The reverse seemed to hold true as
well. Failed auditions were a morale booster for the staff. They were continuing
proof that being hired for the group was more than just the dumb luck of when
résumés happened to hit my desk.
One caveat about auditions: Make sure the candidate speaks about something immediately germane to the work your organization does. It’s easy to
be snookered by a talk on a topic from extreme left field, like “Elder Care for
Triplets” or “Effects of Soft Drinks on Turnip Growth.” You’re liable to catch
a glimpse of a very compelling passion on the speaker’s part, a passion that
you’ll never see again on the job.
17 Playing Well with Others
Contractors, outsourcers, and offshore personnel add an extra dimension to the problem of reasonable team formation. In addition, the
internationalization of practically everything means that even the
most plain-vanilla, in-house team can oblige you to try to knit together team
members from widely different origins. The “class picture” you take of your
next project team is likely to show something that looks more like a United
Nations task force than the kind of single-culture group that our fathers and
grandfathers managed. Melding the mix into a team can be a challenge, but
there are benefits as well.
First, the Benefits
Old guys like us can remember a day when technology teams tended to have
no women, or almost no women. The software industry, in the U.S. at least,
was the catalyst for an exploding female workforce. In Software Engineering Economics, Barry Boehm points out that the industry grew from essentially zero billion dollars a year to thirty billion dollars a year in just over 25
years. Most of that money was people-cost. And where did all those people
come from? They couldn’t come from the same sources that were supplying
the other high-tech industries because those sectors were themselves growing. They couldn’t be the other obvious choices coming out of the university
systems—male math and computer science majors—because there simply
weren’t enough of them. The key was to tap into the untapped resource of
educated women whose earlier career choices had been severely limited. The
hiring companies had to teach specific skills like programming and debugging
and systems design to these women, but they’d have had to teach those same
skills to newly graduated male hires anyway, since few universities during
most of the period that Boehm studied were offering useful software skills
courses to their students.
Women brought much more to their new industry than just labor hours.
They changed the way that teams were organized and how team members interacted. They complemented our tired old sports analogies with new images
from ballet, child rearing, and family dynamics. As they moved into management, they introduced new styles, what our colleague Sheila Brady calls “seat
of the skirt management.” Today, an all-male team seems thin and less than
totally energized. Women made a huge difference.
Food Magic
The breakdown of borders through globalization and common markets
brought new kinds of diversity, more nationalities, and new cultural patterns
to our projects. If these changes have seemed like a bother to accommodate,
they also brought richness. Think about cuisine: Most probably, your greatgrandparents never encountered a market offering Chinese dumplings, Bombay lime pickle, lemongrass curry, tiramisu, and gnocci, but these foods are
now an integral part of the modern world. (If you were transported back a
century in time, you might find much to amuse you, but you would probably
be bored to tears by your dinner choices.) We don’t hide the differences in
cuisines; we relish them.
One of the teams I work with started a “Bring in an Ethnic Dish for Lunch” event
once a month, and it was such a hit that it soon became twice a month. Each
dish was something a bit exotic, prepared by team members with different
backgrounds.
—TRL
Just as we relish the different foods diverse members may bring to the
table, so too we need to relish the different ways they tend to work and think
and communicate.
Yes, But...
That said, the capacity of a team to absorb newness has its limits. Twenty
contractors this month, three the next month, and fifteen the third month
means you have just had to integrate 38 new people during your project. You
need extra planning to avoid renting humans like you rent cars.
Team jell takes time, and, during much of that time, the composition of
the team can’t be changing. If you need to use a reactive strategy of contract
labor, your team will probably never jell. In fact, the workforce you manage
almost certainly won’t be a team at all.
18 Childhood’s End
In Arthur C. Clarke’s science-fiction epic Childhood’s End, the tension derives from a new generation of humans that are not just quantitatively,
but qualitatively different from their parents. The significance of the title
is that the arrival of this generation marks childhood’s end for the human
species. Evolution has played a nasty trick on the parents, making them suddenly the new Neanderthals, while their children become homo superbus.
Young people arriving in the workplace today are not quite that different,
but there are some generational differences that need to be understood and
accommodated.
Technology—and Its Opposite
Disney Fellow Alan Kay defines technology as whatever is around you today but was not there when you were growing up. He further observes that
what was already around you when you were growing up has a name: It’s
called environment. One generation’s technology is the next generation’s
environment.
There was some important technology in the workplace at the end of the
twentieth century that was not yet ubiquitous in homes and schools. That is
much less true today. For your youngest employees, computers, smart phones,
the Web, programming, hacking, social networking, and blogging are environment, not technology. You can’t teach them much about the mechanics
of these matters, and anything you have to say about the associated ethics for their use is all too likely to fall on deaf ears. And yet, if they’re to
progress from new kids in the company to valued employees, you and they
are going to have to come to some understanding on the proper uses of your
technology/environment.
Continuous Partial Attention
In the most-simplistic terms, the new generational divide in your organization is about attention: Young people divide theirs while their older colleagues tend to focus on one or possibly two tasks at a time.
A generation that grew up studying with music blaring on their iPods, text
messages flooding in and out, social networking sites open at all hours, and a
video game going on sporadically in a window beside the history assignment
is an illustration of what former Microsoft Vice President Linda Stone has
called “continuous partial attention.” Your youngest hires will tell you that
they operate most effectively in this environment.
The problem is that continuous partial attention is the exact opposite of
flow. If you believe, as we do, that a flow state is essential for getting real
work done, then you need to set limits on how attention may be divided.
You need to make your youngest workers understand the difference between
spending 2 percent of their workday on Facebook in a single block of time
and spending 2 percent of their attention all day on Facebook. The one may
be a reasonable accommodation for human workers’ personal needs (much
like the occasional call or text message home during working hours), while
the other may be a deterrent to their ever fitting in. Workers who can’t get
into flow are not just less effective, they also are unlikely to fit into a jelled
team of mixed-generation people.
Articulate the Contract
My first boss, Lee Toumenoska at Bell Labs, took me aside on Day One and said,
“Look, Tom, here’s the deal: We work here from eight forty-five until five-fifteen,
with an hour off for lunch. That makes a seven-and-a-half-hour workday, thirtyseven and a half hours per week. That’s what you get paid for. I want you to
respect those hours. If you absolutely need to be late, be an hour or two late, not
five minutes one day and then ten the next, and so on, until you’re not pulling the
same as everyone else.” I needed to be told that. I had no idea what the contract
was—what did I know, a 22-year-old who’d never had a real job before?
—TDM
Articulating the contract to young workers is going to be essential to give
them a chance to fit in. If work needs to be done in flow, then your people
need to be ready to focus. Continuous-partial-attention periods have to be
defined as personal time off, acceptable within limits during the workday. The
rest of the workday is for, well, work.
Continuous partial attention at meetings is similarly destructive of whatever the legitimate purposes may be of the meeting. But if yours is like other
companies we visit, this is not solely a generational problem. Even your older
workers may be prone to doing e-mail and other tasks during meetings. Think
of imperfect attention at meetings to be more about a dysfunctional meeting
culture than about anyone’s work ethic. Stand-up meetings and meetings
without open laptops are a way to articulate the contract, but expect such
a move to require you to rethink your meeting philosophy, almost certainly
a good idea. (More about this in Chapter 31, “Meetings, Monologues, and
Conversations.”)
Yesterday’s Killer App
Your youngest workers are not going to arrive at the door with much regard
for e-mail. If you’ve thought of e-mail, as we have, as definitive of the modern world, then get ready for a shock.
For the last few years, I’ve been teaching an undergraduate ethics course at the
University of Maine. It’s a writing course, and so I have tried to impress upon
my students the value and necessity of iteration from draft to draft. In a typical
assignment, I asked them to submit a first draft to me on a given Friday with a
second draft due the next Friday. Then I worked over the weekend to mark up
their first drafts, and sent them back via e-mail. To my surprise, almost none of
my students took into account my mark-ups in preparing their second drafts. I
asked why and learned that essentially none of them ever looked at their e-mail.
They suggested that I text them if I had placed something they’d need to look at
in their In-boxes.
—TDM
The younger your people are, the more likely they are to see e-mail as a
verbose and dreary waste of time. The terseness of texting is much more to
their taste. In an era that celebrates bandwidth, the hot technology for them is
the lowest bandwidth tool available: typing with their thumbs.
(If our dystopian perspective in Chapter 33, “E(vil) Mail,” leaves you sputtering, don’t hire any young workers.)
19 Happy to Be Here
This chapter begins with a pop quiz:
Ql: What annual employee turnover has your organization experienced over the last few years?
Q2: How much does it cost on average to replace a person who
leaves?
Score yourself as follows: If you had any answer at all to the two questions, you pass. Otherwise, you fail. Most people fail.
In all fairness, perhaps it’s not your job to know about such things. Okay,
we’ll re-score your quiz. You pass if anyone in your organization has a real
answer to the two questions. Most people still fail. We avoid measuring turnover for the same reason that heavy smokers avoid having long serious talks
with their doctors about longevity: It’s a lot of bother that can only result in
bad news.
Turnover: The Obvious Costs
Typical turnover figures we encounter are in the range of 80 percent to
33 percent per year, implying an average employee longevity of from 15 to
36 months. Assume for the moment that the turnover for your company is
in the middle of this range. The average person leaves after a little more
than two years. It costs one-and-a-half to two months’ salary to hire a new
employee, either as a fee to an agency, or as the cost of an in-house personnel service that does the same function. The employee, once hired, may go
right to work on a project, in which case his or her hours are all billed to the
project—there is no indication of start-up cost. This is, however, a pure bookkeeping fiction. We all know that a new employee is quite useless on Day
One or even worse than useless, since someone else’s time is required to begin
bringing the new person up to speed.
By the end of a few months, the new person is doing some useful work;
within five months, he or she is at full working capacity. A reasonable assessment of start-up cost is therefore approximately three lost work-months per new
hire. (Obviously, the start-up cost is worse or much worse to the extent that the
work to be performed is highly esoteric.) The total cost of replacing each person
is the equivalent of four-and-a-half to five months of employee cost or about
20 percent of the cost of keeping that employee for the full two years on the job.
Turnover varies enormously from one organization to another. We hear of
companies with a 10-percent turnover, and others in the same business with
100-percent or higher turnover. At any chance gathering of managers from
rival companies, you can expect that the person seated next to you has got
a turnover rate that is different from yours by more than a factor of two. Of
course, neither of you knows which way this difference works, and you never
will because at least one of the two of you probably works for a company that
doesn’t measure turnover.
The Hidden Costs of Turnover
Employee turnover costs about 20 percent of all manpower expense. But
that’s only the visible cost of turnover. There is an ugly invisible cost that can
be far worse.
In companies with high turnover, people tend toward a destructively shortterm viewpoint, because they know they just aren’t going to be there very
long. So if you find yourself campaigning for better work space for your staff,
for example, don’t be surprised to bump into someone up the hierarchy who
counters with an argument like this:
Hold on there, Buster. You’re talking about big bucks. If we gave
our engineers that much space and noise protection and even
privacy, we might end up spending fifty dollars per person per
month! Multiply that times all the engineers and you’re into the
tens of thousands of dollars. We can’t spend that kind of money.
I’m as much in favor of productivity as the next guy, but have you
seen what a terrible third quarter we’re having?
Of course, the irrevocably logical answer to this is that investing now in a
sensible environment will help to avoid terrible third quarters in the future.
But save your breath. You have encountered a short-term perspective that
no amount of irrevocable logic is going to sway. This person is on his or her
way out of the company. The short-term cost is very real, but the long-term
benefit has no meaning whatsoever.
In an organization with high turnover, nobody is willing to take the long
view. If the organization is a bank, it will lend money to the Ugandan Development Corporation because the 22-percent interest looks terrific on this
quarter’s books. Of course, the UDC may default in a couple of years, but
who’s even going to be here then? If the organization is a development shop,
it will optimize for the short term, exploit people, cheat on the workplace, and
do nothing to conserve its very lifeblood, the peopleware that is its only real
asset. If we ran our agricultural economy on the same basis, we’d eat our seed
corn immediately and all starve next year.
If people only stick around a year or two, the only way to conserve the
best people is to promote them quickly. That means near beginners being promoted into first-level management positions. They may have only five years
of experience and perhaps less than a year with the company.
There is something very disconcerting about these numbers. A person with
a work life of, say, forty years will spend five years working and thirty-five
managing. That implies an exceedingly tall, narrow hierarchy. Fifteen percent
of the staff is doing work, with 85 percent managing. As little as 10 percent
of the cost could be spent on the workers, with 90 percent going to reward
the managers. Even Marx didn’t foresee such top-heaviness of capitalistic
structures.
Not only is the structure wastefully top-heavy, it tends to have very lightweight people at the bottom. This is somewhat true throughout the industry,
but strikingly true in high-turnover companies. It’s not unusual to see serious, mature companies turning out products that are developed by workers
with an average age in their twenties, and average experience of less than
two years.
Many of us have come to believe that companies that promote early are
where the action is. That’s natural, because as young workers we’re eager to
get ahead. But from the corporate perspective, late promotion is a sign of
health. In companies with low turnover, promotion into the first-level management position comes only after as much as ten years with the company.
(This has long been true of some of the strongest organizations within IBM,
for example.) The people at the lowest level have on the average at least five
years’ experience. The hierarchy is low and flat.
Why People Leave
For the individuals considering a change in job, the reasons can be as many
and varied as the personalities involved. For the organization with pathologically high turnover (anything over 30 percent), a few reasons account for
most departures:
• A just-passing-through mentality: Co-workers engender no feelings of
long-term involvement in the job.
• A feeling of disposability: Management can only think of its workers as interchangeable parts (since turnover is so high, nobody is
indispensable).
• A sense that loyalty would be ludicrous: Who could be loyal to an
organization that views its people as parts?
The insidious effect here is that turnover engenders turnover. People leave
quickly, so there’s no use spending money on training. Since the company
has invested nothing in the individual, the individual thinks nothing of moving on. New people are not hired for their extraordinary qualities, since replacing extraordinary qualities is too difficult. The feeling that the company
sees nothing extraordinary in the worker makes the worker feel unappreciated
as an individual. Other people are leaving all the time, so there’s something
wrong with you if you’re still here next year.
A Special Pathology: The Company Move
There is no bigger ego trip for insecure managers than moving the company
to some distant place. That is Wheeling and Dealing at its best! Injecting so
much misery into workers’ lives makes the managers feel positively god-like.
The normal business of running the company lets them control their people’s
work lives, but the move lets them have a measure of control over even their
personal lives.
Of course, they are marvelously somber when explaining the rationale behind the move. They talk about the escalating price of space or the tax structure of the old location and the benefits of the new one. Whatever the reasons
given for the move, you can be sure the real reasons are very different. The
real reason for the move is a political deal, or a chance to build a new edifice
(finally, a piece of physical evidence of their importance), or reduction of
the boss’s commute by moving the company to the suburb where the boss
happens to live. Sometimes it’s simply the naked exercise of power.
The more egocentric the manager, the more intense the fondness for the
company move. Listen to Robert Townsend on the subject:
If you’ve inherited (or built) an office that needs a real house
cleaning, the only sure cure is move the whole thing out of town,
leaving the dead wood behind. One of my friends has done it four
times with different companies. The results are always the same:
1) The good ones are confident of their futures and go with you.
2) The people with dubious futures (and their wives) don’t have
to face the fact that they’ve been fired. “The company left town,”
they say. They get job offers quickly, usually from your competitors who think they’re conducting a raid. 3) The new people at
Destiny City are better than the ones you left behind and they’re
infused with enthusiasm because they’ve been exposed only to your
best people.
What this is, to use a technical term, is the purest crap. One thing
Townsend seems to have missed entirely is the presence of women in the
workforce. The typical person being moved today is part of a two-career
family. The other half of that equation is probably not being moved, so the
corporate move comes down hard on the couple’s relationship at a very delicate point. It brings intolerable stress to bear on the accommodation they’re
both striving to achieve to allow two full-fledged careers. That’s hitting below the belt. Modern couples won’t put up with it and they won’t forgive it.
The company move might have been possible in the 1950s and 1960s. Today
it is folly.
Even in the sixties, organizational moves didn’t make much sense. A case
in point is the decision by AT&T’s Bell Laboratories to move the 600-person
ESS1 project from New Jersey to Illinois in 1966. There were many reasons
given for the move, but it now seems likely that there were some political
shenanigans involved. In the 1950s, then Senators Kennedy and Johnson had
arranged for huge new investments in Massachusetts and Texas, and Senator Dirksen of Illinois had something coming. What a coup for Dirksen if 600
high-salary, low-pollution jobs could be moved into his state. A little pressure on AT&T, perhaps, to trade off the move against concessions in some
antitrust matter or regulatory relief. The rationale within the Labs was that
the cost wouldn’t be too excessive: a few thousand dollars per person in relocation expenses and maybe a bit of turnover....
Years after the ESS cutover, I arranged to interview Ray Ketchledge, who had run
the project. I was writing some essays on management of large efforts, and ESS
certainly qualified. I asked him what he saw as his main successes and failures as
boss. “Forget the successes,” he said. “The failure was that move. You can’t believe
what it cost us in turnover.” He went on to give some figures. The immediately
calculable cost of the move was the number of people who quit before relocation
day. Expressed as a percentage of those moved, this initial turnover was greater
than the French losses in the trenches of World War I.
—TDM
You can do less damage to your organization by lining up the staff in front
of a machine gun than you do by moving. And that accounts only for the
initial loss. In the case of Bell Labs, there was another large exodus starting
about a year after the move. These were the people who had honestly tried to
go along with the company. They moved and, when they didn’t like the new
location, they moved again.
The Mentality of Permanence
Over the years, we have been privileged to work and consult for a few companies with extraordinarily low turnover. You won’t be surprised to learn that
low turnover is not the only good thing about these companies. Indeed, they
seem to excel at many or most of the people-conscious qualities discussed in
these pages. They are the best.
The best organizations are not of a kind; they are more notable for their
dissimilarities than for their likenesses. But one thing that they all share is a
preoccupation with being the best. It is a constant topic in the corridors, in
working meetings, and in bull sessions. The converse of this effect is equally
true: In organizations that are not “the best,” the topic is rarely or never
discussed.
The best organizations are consciously striving to be best. This is a common goal that provides common direction, joint satisfaction, and a strong
binding effect. There is a mentality of permanence about such places, the
sense that you’d be dumb to look for a job elsewhere—people would look
at you as though you were daft. This is the kind of community feeling that
characterized the American small towns of the past. It is something too often
missing from the cities and municipalities where we live, so it is all the more
important in the workplace. Some ambitious companies set out explicitly
to engender a sense of community. At Reader’s Digest and certain HewlettPackard locations, for example, the company has set up community gardens
for employees. At lunch hour, the fields are full of amateur hoers and weeders
and people talking tomatoes over their fences. There are contests to grow the
sweetest pea or the longest zucchini, and active bartering sessions where you
can trade away some of your garlic for corn.
You can prove that community gardens don’t make any sense at all in
the short term. Whatever costs there are will come right out of this quarter’s bottom line. At most companies, that would be enough to quash the
concept immediately. But in the best organizations, the short term is not
the only thing that matters. What matters more is being best. And that’s a
long-term concept.
People tend to stay at such companies because there is a widespread sense
that you are expected to stay. The company invests hugely in your personal
growth. There may be a Master’s program or an extensive training period for
new hires, as much as a year in some places. It’s hard to miss the message
that you are expected to stay, when the company has just invested that much
in your formation.
A common feature of companies with the lowest turnover is widespread
retraining. You’re forever bumping into managers and officers who started
out as secretaries, payroll clerks, or in the mailroom. They came into the company green, often right out of school. When they needed new skills to make a
change, the company provided those skills. No job is a dead end.
Again, one can prove that retraining is not the cheapest way to fill a new
slot. It’s always cheaper in the short run to fire the person who needs retraining and hire someone else who already has the required skills. Most organizations do just that. The best organizations do not. They realize that retraining
helps to build the mentality of permanence that results in low turnover and
a strong sense of community. They realize that it more than justifies its cost.
At Southern California Edison some years ago, the person in charge of all
data processing began as a meter reader. At EG&G, there was a program of
retraining administrative staff to become systems analysts. At the Bureau of
Labor Statistics, philosophy Ph.D.s are hired to become software developers
and the retraining starts with their first day on the job. At Hitachi Software,
the chief scientist has as his principal function the training of new hires. At
Pacific Bell, a main source of new systems people is the retrained lineman
or operator. These companies are different from the norm. They feel different. There is an energy and sense of belonging that is practically palpable. It
makes you feel sorry for the companies that don’t have it.
20 Human Capital
Somewhere not too far from you as you read these words, there is probably a heating or air-conditioning unit in operation. Electricity and possibly some combustible fuel are working to alter the local atmosphere
to keep you comfortable. These things cost money. You, or your company, pay
the bill each month, annotating the charge as Utilities, or some such. Let’s say
that the bill for the month of September is $100, that it’s paid by the company, and that the company has no other financial transaction all month: no
income, no salaries, no nothing. Just one utility bill. At the end of the month,
the organization’s profit-and-loss statement looks like Figure 20–1.
The statement shows a loss for the month, since expenses exceeded income.
The next month is also a bit slow. Again, the company has no income and
no salaries. But now the weather has warmed up, producing a month of perfect October days in which you left the windows open and never turned on
the heat. So, there is no utility bill to pay. You do, however, cut one check:
You buy a tiny palm-top computer for $100. When you write the check, you
enter it as “Computing Equipment,” since that is the most obvious of the
expenditure categories suggested by your accounting package. At the end of
this month, your P&L looks like Figure 20–2.
Whatever Corp.
Profit and Loss
September 2012
Sep ’12
Ordinary Income/Expense
Expense
Utilities 100.00
Total Expense 100.00
Net Ordinary Income –100.00
Net Income –100.00
Figure 20–1 P&L for the first month.
Whatever Corp.
Profit and Loss
October 2012
Oct ’12
Net Income 0.00
Figure 20–2 P&L for the second month.
Last month, your single $100 check netted against no income resulted
in a loss. This month, the single check for $100 netted against no income
produced a breakeven. Why the difference? The difference can only be attributed to the different categories you chose for the expenditures. In September, an expenditure for Utilities was treated as an expense; in October,
an expenditure for Computing Equipment received an entirely different
treatment. Your accounting package understood that Computing Equipment
is just another kind of asset, like money in a different bank account. So, it
treated the check like a transfer from one bank account to another. It had
no effect on profit and loss.
An expense is money that gets used up. At the end of the month, the
money is gone and so is the heat (or whatever the expense was for). An investment, on the other hand, is use of an asset to purchase another asset. The
value has not been used up, but only converted from one form to another.
When you treat an expenditure as an investment instead of as an expense,
you are capitalizing the expenditure.
How About People?
What about money that the company spends on people? The general accounting convention is that all salaries are treated as expense, never as capital investment. Sometimes this makes sense, but sometimes it doesn’t. When
a worker is building a product that gets sold, it hardly matters: Whether you
expense his labor or capitalize it, the amount of money paid to the worker
eventually gets deducted from the sales price of the product, in order to
calculate profit. You can hardly be faulted for expensing his labor the same
way you expense the heat that kept the factory warm; both the labor and the
heat are gone at the end of the month.
But now suppose you send that same worker off to a training seminar for
a week. His salary and the seminar fee have been spent on something that
is not “gone” at the end of the month. Whatever he has learned persists in
his head through the coming months. If you’ve spent your training money
wisely, it is an investment, perhaps a very good one. But, by accounting convention, we expense it anyway.
So Who Cares?
What matters is not so much how the bean counters must report these things
to the IRS or to the stockholders, but how managers think about the amount
their company has invested in its people. This human capital can be substantial; thinking about it erroneously as sunk expense may lead managers toward actions that fail to preserve the value of an organization’s investment.
Of course, “actions that fail to preserve the value of an organization’s investment” are a staple of imperfect management. Companies go through periods in which middle and upper managers vie to outdo each other in thinking
up ways to improve near-term performance (quarterly earnings) by sacrificing
the longer term. This is usually called “bottom-line consciousness,” but we
prefer to give it another name: “eating the seed corn.”
Assessing the Investment in Human Capital
How much does your company have invested in you and your colleagues? An
easy way to get a handle on this amount is to consider what happens when
one of you leaves: Suppose, for example, that Louise, your database expert,
announces she will depart at the end of the month. Prior to this, you had been
feeling pretty good about prospects that your five-person team would be able
to deliver a new version of your company’s sales-capture system by next
summer. The tasks had been moving along smoothly, and the team was wellknit and highly effective. At least it was before Louise dropped her bombshell.
Now, who knows? What a disaster. You get Personnel on the phone and give
the bad news. “Louise is leaving on the thirty-first,” you report. Then you ask,
hopefully, “Can you get me another Louise?”
Unfortunately, Personnel is fresh out of experts with Louise’s grasp of the
requirements, the technology, the domain, and the people involved. “How
about a Ralph?” your contact suggests. You have never heard of Ralph, nor
has anyone else on the team, but he seems to be the only game in town, so
you agree. The deal is done. Louise leaves on the thirty-first, and Ralph moves
in the next day.
In one sense, the project has experienced no disruption at all. You had
five people on the thirty-first, and you’ve got five people again on the first.
If Ralph earns about the same as Louise, the company is dutifully buying
people-time for you at the same rate as last month, and the team will be supplied with precisely five person-months this month, exactly as it would have
been if Louise had stayed on. If the project was on-schedule last month, it
should still be on-schedule now. So what are you bellyaching about?
Well, let’s look at how Ralph spends his first day with the company. There
was a certain amount of database work remaining that Louise left on her
plate when she departed; how much does Ralph chip away of that remaining
work on Day One? Of course, the answer is, nothing. He doesn’t do squat. He
spends the whole day filling out forms for his health insurance, learning how
to order-in lunch, getting his supplies, configuring his workstation, and having his PC connected to the network. His net production is zero. Whoops, it
may even be less than zero. If he uses up any of the other people’s time—and
you know he is going to, just to get his basic questions answered—then his
net contribution to team production for the day will be negative.
Okay, that’s Day One; how about Day Two? Day Two is a little better.
Ralph is now fully involved, reading the notes that Louise left for him.
This is work that Louise wouldn’t have had to do herself had she stayed
on, since she knew all that stuff cold. (She wouldn’t have had to write the
notes either if she hadn’t been about to leave.) Ralph’s production rate is
still far lower than Louise’s would have been. He may still have a negative
effect, since he is still likely to need help from the rest of the team, using
up time that team members would have applied to the work had they not
had Ralph to support.
Eventually, your new teammate is completely up to speed, producing at
more or less the same rate that Louise did. Real productivity of the database
worker position over time looks something like Figure 20–3.
Productivity took a hit when Louise left, even passing below zero for a
while as others scurried to make up for the loss of a well-integrated team
member. Then, eventually, it worked its way up to where it was before.
The shaded area on the graph represents the lost production (work that
didn’t get done) caused by Louise’s departure. Or, viewed differently, it is the
investment that the company is now making to get Ralph up where Louise
was after the company’s past investments in her skills and capabilities.
We could put a dollar figure on the shaded area based on how much the
organization had to pay for time that wasn’t productive. If it takes Ralph
six months to get up to speed and his progress is essentially linear, then the
investment is approximately half the total time—that is, three person-months
of effort. The dollar figure for this investment is whatever the company pays
Ralph for salary and overhead during three months.
What Is the Ramp-Up Time for an Experienced Worker?
Six months to progress from being a slightly negative producer to performing
at the rate of your predecessor? This might be a reasonable provision for a
new applications programmer, but it probably wouldn’t be nearly enough for
anyone joining a team that does even slightly more sophisticated work. When
we oblige our clients to put a figure on ramp-up time for new workers, most
have to allow far longer than six months. One of our clients, a builder of network protocol analyzers and packet sniffers, estimates that it takes more than
two years to bring a new worker up to speed. The client only hires people who
have a firm grasp of the underlying technology, so the two years is the added
time to learn the specific domain and to fit into the team. The net capital investment in each new worker is therefore something like $200,000.
Now suppose there is another round of lean-and-mean downsizing, and
the company has to consider laying off such a person. Yes, the ongoing expense of the worker’s salary and overhead would be saved, but the $200,000
investment would be lost. If the company takes account of this fact, it might
see that it can’t possibly afford to lay off such a valuable resource.
Figure 20–3 Lost production due to change of personnel.
Playing Up to Wall Street
Through years of layoffs, cutbacks, downsizings, right-sizings, and retractions, Wall Street has applauded each and every cut as though such retreat
were the object of the exercise. It’s worth pointing out that it isn’t:
The object of the exercise is upsizing, not downsizing.
Companies that downsize are frankly admitting that their upper management has blown it.
But Wall Street still applauds. Why is that? Part of the reason is that it
looks so good on the books. A few thousand employees gone, and every
penny they would have earned goes right to the bottom line, or at least it
seems to. What’s conveniently forgotten in this analysis is the investment in
those people—paid for with real, hard-earned dollars and now thrown out the
window as if it had no value.
There is probably no hope of changing the view that Wall Street takes of
treating investment in people as an expense. But companies that play this
game will suffer in the long run. The converse is also true: Companies that
manage their investment sensibly will prosper in the long run. Companies of
knowledge workers have to realize that it is their investment in human capital
that matters most. The good ones already do.
Part IV: Growing Productive Teams 高效团队养成
Think back over a particularly enjoyable work experience from your
career. What was it that made the experience such a pleasure? The simplistic answer is, “Challenge.” Good work experiences have always got
a fair measure of challenge about them.
Now think of a specific enjoyable memory from that period. Play it over
in your mind like a video. Maybe it was a meeting or a bull session or an
all-nighter or the breakfast that followed one. If you’re like most of us, such
memories are vivid and surprisingly complete. You can hear the sounds and
individual voices, you can see expressions on faces, you’re aware of the setting. Freeze your mental video now and examine a single frame in detail.
Where is the challenge? We’re willing to bet that it doesn’t figure into your
memory at all, or if it does, it’s a remote part of the background.
What’s in the foreground of most of our prized work memories is team
interaction. When a group of people fuse into a meaningful whole, the entire
character of the work changes. The challenge of the work is important, but
not in and of itself; it is important because it gives us something to focus on
together. The challenge is the instrument for our coming together. In the best
work groups, the ones in which people have the most fun and perform at their
upper limits, team interactions are everything. They are the reason that people
stick it out, put their all into the work, overcome enormous obstacles.
People work better and have more fun when the team comes together.
Part IV looks into the concept of the successfully bonded team and things you
can do to help such teams happen.
21 The Whole Is Greater Than the Sum of the Parts
We tend to use the word team fairly loosely in the business world,
calling any group of people assigned to work together a “team.”
But many of these groups just don’t seem like teams. They don’t
have a common definition of success or any identifiable team spirit. Something is missing. What is missing is a phenomenon we call jell.
Concept of the Jelled Team
A jelled team is a group of people so strongly knit that the whole is greater
than the sum of the parts. The production of such a team is greater than that
of the same people working in unjelled form. Just as important, the enjoyment that people derive from their work is greater than what you’d expect
given the nature of the work itself. In some cases, jelled teams working on
assignments that others would declare downright dull have a simply marvelous time.
Once a team begins to jell, the probability of success goes up dramatically.
The team can become almost unstoppable, a juggernaut for success. Managing these juggernaut teams is a real pleasure. You spend most of your time
just getting obstacles out of their way, clearing the path so that bystanders
don’t get trampled underfoot: “Here they come, folks. Stand back and hold
onto your hats.” They don’t need to be managed in the traditional sense, and
they certainly don’t need to be motivated. They’ve got momentum.
The reasons for this effect are not so complex: Teams by their very nature are formed around goals. (Think of the sports team: Could it even exist
without a goal?) Prior to a team’s jelling, the individuals on the team might
have had a diversity of goals. But as part of the jelling process, they have all
bought into the common goal. This corporate goal takes on an enhanced importance because of its significance to the group. Even though the goal itself
may seem arbitrary to team members, they pursue it with enormous energy.
Management by Hysterical Optimism
Some managers are disturbed by the sentiments of the preceding paragraph.
They find it distasteful to consider any artifice for getting workers to accept
corporate goals. Why should we need to form elaborate social units to do
that? After all, professional workers are supposed to accept their employer’s
goals as a condition of employment. That’s what it means to be a professional.
Believing that workers will automatically accept organizational goals is the
sign of naïve managerial optimism. The mechanism by which individuals involve themselves in the organization’s objectives is more complex than that.
You wouldn’t be surprised to learn, for example, that the fellow you know as
a database specialist is more inclined to describe himself as a father, a Boy
Scout leader, and a member of the local school board. In these roles, he makes
thoughtful value judgments all the time. What would be a surprise is if he
stopped making value judgments when he arrived at work. He doesn’t. He is
continually at work examining each claim for his individual energies and loyalty. Organizational goals come in for constant scrutiny by the people who work
for the organization, and most of those goals are judged to be awfully arbitrary.
The dilemma here is that as boss, you have probably accepted the corporate
goal (bring the project home by next April for less than $750,000), and accepted it wholeheartedly. If your staff isn’t just as enthusiastic, you’re disappointed. Their lack of interest might seem almost treasonous to you. But hold
on here: Is it possible that your own strong identification with a corporate
goal stems from something beyond mere professionalism? Isn’t it true that
some artful engineering on the part of your boss and the powers above has
made that corporate goal line up exactly with one of your own? Meeting the
corporate aims is certain to lead directly to more authority and responsibility
for you: “Today the Sysboombah Project, tomorrow the world!” Throughout
the upper ranks of the organization, there is marvelous ingenuity at work
to be sure that each manager has a strong personal incentive to accept the
corporate goals. Only at the bottom, where the real work is performed, does
this ingenuity fail. There we count on “professionalism” and nothing else to
assure that people are all pulling in the same direction. Lots of luck.
If you work for the Save the Snaildarters Foundation or the First Fiberoni
Church of Holy Purity or any other organization in which all employees are
bound together by common belief, then you may be able to count on their
natural affinity for the organization’s goals. Otherwise, forget it. While the
executive committee may get itself all heated up over a big increase in profits,
this same objective is pretty small potatoes to people at the bottom of the
heap. PROFIT UP ONE BILLION DOLLARS AT MEGALITHIC INC. Ho-hum.
COMPANY LOGS RECORD QUARTER. Zzzzzzzz.
I once ran a telecommunications project for a large consumer finance company.
This organization was in the business of lending money to poor people at outlandishly high rates of interest, a business that back then was illegal in 23 states.
Increasing the company’s already huge profit was not something the average
worker could easily identify with, but management seemed to think it was. A
delegation came to talk to me late one Friday afternoon. The company’s chances
for the best second quarter in history were in our hands, they said. They asked me
to share this fact with the rest of the team, “to focus their efforts.” I had never
worked on a more focused team in my life, but I dutifully passed the word on the
next morning. (They were so fired up that the whole team was in, even though it
was a Saturday.) The energy went out of the team like wind out of a sail. The chief
programmer summed it all up: “Who gives a rat’s ass for their second quarter?”
Half an hour later, they’d all gone home.
—TDM
Getting the system built was an arbitrary goal, but the team had accepted
it. It was what they had formed around. From the time of jelling, the team
itself had been the real focus for their energies. They were in it for joint success, the pleasure of achieving the goal, any goal, together. Refocusing their
attention on the company’s interest in the project didn’t help. It just made
success seem trivial and meaningless.
The Guns of Navarone
Goals of corporations are always going to seem arbitrary to people—
corporations seem arbitrary to people—but the arbitrariness of goals doesn’t
mean no one is ever going to accept them. If it did, we wouldn’t have sports.
The goals in sports are always utterly arbitrary. The Universe doesn’t care
whether the little white ball goes between the posts at Argentina’s end of the
field or those at Italy’s. But a lot of people get themselves very involved in the
outcome. Their involvement is a function of the social units they belong to.
Those at the periphery of a team may be mildly interested in the team’s
success or failure, but their interest is tiny compared to that of the team
members. People who work on jelled teams often get so involved that they’re
psyched up enough to storm the guns of Navarone, all just to pass the version 3 acceptance test for the pension trust system. You have to remind them
that what they’re striving to accomplish is not the Moral Equivalent of War.
In spite of the useful energy and enthusiasm that characterize jelled teams,
managers don’t take particular pains to foster them. Part of the reason is an
imperfect understanding of why teams matter. The manager who is strongly
motivated toward goal attainment is likely to observe that teams don’t attain
goals; people on the teams attain goals. Virtually all of the component tasks
required to meet the objective are performed by the individuals who make up
the team. Most of this work is done by individuals working alone.
There is very little true teamwork required in most of our work. But teams
are still important, for they serve as a device to get everyone pulling in the
same direction.
The purpose of a team is not goal attainment but goal alignment.
When the team is fulfilling its purpose, team members are more effective
because they’re more directed.
Signs of a Jelled Team
A few very characteristic signs indicate that a jelled team has occurred. The
most important of these is low turnover during projects and in the middle of
well-defined tasks. The team members aren’t going anywhere till the work is
done. Things that matter enormously prior to jell (money, status, position for
advancement) matter less or not at all after jell. People certainly aren’t about
to leave their team for a rinky-dink consideration like a little more salary.
Sadly, managers often miss this strong indication of their own success. They
are disinclined to pay attention to turnover even when it’s killing them; when
turnover is low, they don’t think about it at all.
Jelled teams are usually marked by a strong sense of identity. The teams
you hear discussed in the industry have colorful names: the “Okie Coders” at
General Electric, or the “Gang of Four” at DuPont, or the “Chaos Group” at
Cincinnati Gas & Electric. Teammates may all use the same catch phrases and
share many in-jokes. There may be obvious team space. The teams may congregate at lunch or hang out at the same watering hole after work.
There is a sense of eliteness on a good team. Team members feel they’re
part of something unique. They feel they’re better than the run of the mill.
They have a cocky, SWAT Team attitude that may be faintly annoying to
people who aren’t part of the group.
There is invariably a feeling of joint ownership of the product built by the
jelled team. Participants are pleased to have their names grouped together on
a product or a part of one. The individual is eager for peer review. The team
space is decorated with views of the product as it approaches completion.
The final sign of a jelled team is the obvious enjoyment that people take
in their work. Jelled teams just feel healthy. The interactions are easy and
confident and warm.
Teams and Cliques
If it made you at all uneasy to read about jelled teams sticking to themselves
and feeling slightly superior to the rest of the world, you’re not the only one.
We can almost hear you thinking, “Wait a minute, what these guys are calling
a ‘team’ may be what we would call a ‘clique.’ Teams may be good, but aren’t
cliques something to be avoided at all cost?”
The difference between a team and a clique is like the difference between a
breeze and a draft. Breeze and draft have identical meanings: They both mean
“cool current of air.” If you find that cool current of air delightful, you call
it a breeze; if you find it annoying, you call it a draft. The connotations are
different, but the denotation is the same. Similarly, there is no difference in
denotation between a team and a clique, but the connotations are opposite.
People use team when the tight bonding of the jelled working group is pleasing to them. And they use clique when it represents a threat.
Fear of cliques is a sign of managerial insecurity. The greater the insecurity, the more frightening the idea of a clique can be. There are reasons for
this: Managers are often not true members of their teams (more about this in
Chapter 28, “Chemistry for Team Formation”), so the loyalties that exclude
them are stronger than the ones that bind them into the group. The loyalties
within the group are stronger than those tying the group to the company.
Then there is the awful thought that a tightly knit team may leave en masse
and take all of its energy and enthusiasm over to the competition. For all
these reasons, the insecure manager is threatened by cliques. He or she would
feel better working with a staff of uniform plastic people, identical, interchangeable, and unbonded.
The jelled work group may be cocky and self-sufficient, irritating and exclusive, but it does more to serve the manager’s real goals than any assemblage of interchangeable parts could ever do.
22 The Black Team
The value of jelled teams will be obvious to you if you have already
had the enjoyable experience of working on one. But just in case you
haven’t, this chapter is intended to give you some sense of what they’re
like. Presented below is the story of a legendary team that began to make its
mark in the 1960s. Some of the lore of this team must surely be exaggerated,
but it makes a good yarn, and at least most of it is true.
The Stuff of Which Legends Are Made
Back in the dawn of time (relatively speaking), there was a company in upper
New York State that made large blue computers. The company also made software to run on these computers. Customers of this company were nice enough
folks, but just between us, they could be awfully poor sports about software
delivered with bugs. For a while, the company put its efforts into training the
customers to make them more tolerant of bugs. But this approach didn’t work
out, so they bit the bullet and decided to get rid of the bugs instead.
The easy and obvious approach was to have the programmers remove all
bugs prior to delivery. For some reason, this didn’t work too well either. It
seems that the programmers (at least the ones back in those days) were rather
too inclined to believe the best of their programs. Try as they might, they
couldn’t find the last remaining bugs, so they often declared the software to
be done when there were still lots of bugs.
Finding the last bug was hard, but some testers were better than others.
The company formed a group of these particularly talented testers and gave
them the charter to do final testing on critical software before it was sent to
the customers. Thus was born the legendary Black Team.
The Black Team was initially made up of people who had proved themselves to be slightly better at testing than their peers. They were slightly
more motivated. They also were testing code that had been written by someone else, so they were free of the cognitive dissonance that hampers developers when testing their own programs. All in all, those who formed the team
might have expected it to achieve at least a modest improvement in product
quality, but they didn’t expect more than that. What they got was much
more than that.
The most surprising thing about the Black Team was not how good it
was at the beginning, but how much it improved during the next year.
Some magic was happening: The team was forming a personality of its own.
This personality was being shaped by an adversary philosophy of testing
that evolved among group members, a philosophy that they had to want
and expect to find defects. They weren’t rooting for the developers at all,
quite the opposite. They were delighting in submitting the program (and the
programmer) to a sequence that was not just a test, but an ordeal. Bringing
your program in for Black Team testing was like appearing before Ming the
Merciless.
Pitiful Earthlings, What Can Save You Now?
At first it was simply a joke that the tests they ran were mean and nasty, and
that the team members actually loved to make your code fail. Then it wasn’t
a joke at all. They began to cultivate an image of destroyers. What they destroyed was not only your code but your whole day. They did monstrously unfair things to elicit failure, overloading the buffers, comparing empty files, and
keying in outrageous input sequences. Grown men and women were reduced
to tears by watching their programs misbehave under the demented handling
of these fiends. The worse they made you feel, the more they enjoyed it.
To enhance the growing image of nastiness, team members began to dress
in black (hence the name Black Team). They took to cackling horribly whenever a program failed. Some of the members grew long mustaches that they
could twirl in Simon Legree fashion. They’d get together and work out evermore-awful testing ploys. Programmers began to mutter about the diseased
minds on the Black Team.
Needless to say, the company was delighted. Every defect the team found
was one that the customers wouldn’t find. The team was a success. It succeeded as a test group, but more important for our purposes here, it succeeded
as a social unit. People on the team got such a kick out of what they were
doing that colleagues outside the team were positively jealous. The black outfits and the silly exaggerated behavior were part of the fun, but there was
something much more fundamental going on. The chemistry within the group
had become an end in itself.
Footnote
Over time, members of the team moved on one at a time to other things.
Since the team function was important to the company, departing members
were replaced immediately. This continued until finally there wasn’t a single
member left of the original group. But there was still a Black Team. The team
survived the loss of all of its original staff, and it emerged with its energy and
its personality intact.
23 Teamicide
What’s called for here is a concise chapter entitled “Making Teams
Jell at Your Company.” It should have half a dozen simple prescriptions for good team formation. These prescriptions should be
enough to guarantee jelled teams. In the planning stage of this work, that is
exactly the chapter we expected to write. We were confident. How difficult
could it be to cut to the heart of the matter and give the reader practical tools
to aid the process of making teams jell? We would apply all our skills, all our
experience; we would overwhelm the problem with logic and pure brilliance.
That’s how it looked in the planning stage....
Between plan and execution, there were a few distressing encounters with
reality. The first of these was that we just couldn’t come up with the six prescriptions needed for the chapter. We got stuck at zero. We’d been prepared
to scale our expectations down a bit, but not this much. (“Zero Things You
Can Do to Make Teams Jell”?) It seemed clear that something was wrong with
the underlying notion of the chapter. What was wrong was the whole idea of
making teams jell. You can’t make teams jell. You can hope they will jell; you
can cross your fingers; you can act to improve the odds of jelling—but you
can’t make it happen. The process is much too fragile to be controlled.
Part of our scaling down of expectations involved a change in vocabulary.
We stopped talking about building teams, and talked instead of growing them.
The agricultural image seemed right. Agriculture isn’t entirely controllable.
You enrich the soil, you plant seeds, you water according to the latest theory,
and you hold your breath. You just might get a crop; you might not. If it all
comes up roses, you’ll feel fine, but next year you’ll be sweating it out again.
That’s pretty close to how team formation works.
Back to brainstorming mode: We began looking for “Six Things You Can
Do to Make Team Formation Possible.” It was still hard. At last, in desperation,
we tried a trick called inversion, described in Edward deBono’s Lateral Thinking. When you’re stuck trying to solve a problem, deBono suggests that rather
than looking for ways to achieve your goal, look for ways to achieve the
exact opposite of your goal. This can have the effect of clearing away the
brain’s cobwebs that keep you from being creative. So instead of looking
for ways to make team formation possible, we began to think of ways to
make it impossible. That was easy. In no time at all, we came up with lots of
surefire ways to inhibit the formation of teams and disrupt project sociology.
These measures, taken together, constitute a strategy we dubbed teamicide.
Our short list of teamicide techniques is
• Defensive management
• Bureaucracy
• Physical separation
• Fragmentation of people’s time
• Quality reduction of the product
• Phony deadlines
• Clique control
Some of these techniques will look awfully familiar. They are things that
companies do all the time.
Defensive Management
It makes good sense for you, the manager, to take a defensive posture in most
areas of risk. If you must work with a piece of failure-prone gear, you get a
backup; if the client is inclined to vacillate, you take pains to nail down the
product specifications; if a contract vendor tends to “forget” promises, you
publish minutes after each meeting.
There’s one area, though, where defensiveness will always backfire: You
can’t protect yourself against your own people’s incompetence. If your staff
isn’t up to the job at hand, you will fail. Of course, if the people are badly
suited to the job, you should get new people. But once you’ve decided to go
with a given group, your best tactic is to trust them. Any defensive measure
taken to guarantee success in spite of them will only make things worse. It
may give you some relief from worry in the short term, but it won’t help in
the long run, and it will poison any chance for the team to jell.
I found myself one day giving Consultant’s Speech Number 9B to a project group,
chastising them because they’d failed to get client approval for their emerging
concept of a new system. They all looked faintly embarrassed. Finally, one of them
said, “We all agree that the client ought to be seeing this stuff. But our boss
has laid down a firm rule that nothing will ever be shown to people outside the
project unless it has his approval.” She went on to explain that the boss was so
swamped that months of work had piled up in his In-box. What option did they
have? They were just plugging away in the dark knowing full well that most of
what they were producing wouldn’t pass muster with the client staff when it was
finally shown to them.
—TRL
The boss didn’t trust his own people. He was worried they might show
something that was wrong to client personnel. He was worried that their
errors might reflect badly on him. Only his own judgment was competent;
anyone else’s was suspect.
If you’re the manager, of course you’re going to feel that your judgment is
better than that of people under you. You have more experience and perhaps
a higher standard of excellence than they have; that’s how you got to be the
manager. At any point in the project where you don’t interpose your own
judgment, your people are more likely to make a mistake. So what? Let them
make some mistakes. That doesn’t mean you can’t override a decision (very
occasionally) or give specific direction to the project. But if the staff comes to
believe it’s not allowed to make any errors of its own, the message that you
don’t trust them comes through loud and clear. There is no message you can
send that will better inhibit team formation.
Most managers give themselves excellent grades on knowing when to trust
their people and when not to. But in our experience, too many managers
err on the side of mistrust. They follow the basic premise that their people
may operate completely autonomously, as long as they operate correctly. This
amounts to no autonomy at all. The only freedom that has any meaning is
the freedom to proceed differently from the way your manager would have
proceeded. This is true in a broader sense, too: The right to be right (in your
manager’s eyes or in your government’s eyes) is irrelevant; it’s only the right
to be wrong that makes you free.
The most obvious defensive management ploys are prescriptive Methodologies (“My people are too dumb to build systems without them.”) and technical interference by the manager. Both are doomed to fail in the long run. In
addition, they make for efficient teamicide. People who feel untrusted have
little inclination to bond together into a cooperative team.
Bureaucracy
Studies conducted by Capers Jones in the 1970s and 1980s reported on systems development costs by work category. One of the categories was “Paperwork.” What Jones calls paperwork is more or less mindless paper pushing,
since the thinking time necessary to decide what to put on the paper is categorized as some other activity, such as analysis, design, or test planning. In
other words, his “paperwork” category is pure bureaucracy. Jones concluded
that paperwork is the second largest category of systems development work.
It accounts for more than 30 percent of the cost of producing a given product.
There is a depressing modern trend to make development workers more
and more into bureaucrats. Perhaps this is a sign of epidemic defensive management. But while the trend is global, it is not at all uniform. We know of
companies in which the development groups look and feel like a bureaucratic
nightmare by Kafka, and other companies in which the paperwork burden is
minuscule.
Mindless paper pushing is a waste. It ought to be attacked because it keeps
people from working. But our point here is a slightly different one. It is that
bureaucracy hurts team formation. The team needs to believe in whatever
goal it forms around. That goal can be arbitrary, but at least it has to exist.
There has to be some evidence that management believes in it. Just telling
your people that the goal matters won’t be enough if you also have to tell
them they should spend a third of their time pushing paper. Paper pushers
just can’t get themselves into SWAT Team mode. They can’t see themselves
hell-bent for success.
Physical Separation
When the Furniture Police makes its case for the Zippo-Flippo Modular Office System, all the talk is of “flexibility.” But when it comes time to flex a
bit to put a work group together, the long faces come out. “We can’t disrupt
everything and move stuff around over our lovely carpet just to get these four
people into adjacent space. Can’t they text?” The result is that what could
be a tightly bound team is scattered over multiple floors or even in different
buildings. The specific work interactions may not suffer terribly, but there is
no casual interaction. Group members may grow stronger bonds to nongroup
neighbors, just because they see more of them. There is no group space, no
immediate and constant reinforcement, no chance of a group culture forming.
(You couldn’t imagine Black Team members all dressing in black if their work
spaces were not together; they’d be constantly interacting with people who
weren’t in on the joke, who just thought they were bizarre, and the whole
funny bit would die with a whimper.)
Physical separation of people who are expected to interact closely doesn’t
make much sense anyway. Neighboring workers are a source of noise and
disruption. When they’re all on the same team, they tend to go into quiet
mode at the same time, so there is less interruption of flow. Putting them
together also gives them opportunity for the casual interaction that is so necessary for team formation.
Fragmentation of Time
One of my clients is an agency of the Australian government. During one consulting call, I collected data indicating that the average worker there was involved
in four or more different projects. I complained about this to the Commissioner.
He said it was regrettable, but just a fact of life. People’s duties were fragmented
because their skills and knowledge made them indispensable to efforts other than
the principal ones they were assigned to. He said it was inevitable. I said it was
nonsense. I proposed that he make it a specific policy that people be assigned to
one and only one project at a time and that the policy be written down and widely
distributed. He was game. A year later, when I returned, the average worker was
assigned to fewer than two projects.
—TDM
Fragmentation is bad for team formation, but it’s also bad for efficiency. (Perhaps you’ve begun to pick up a trend here.) People can keep track of only so
many human interactions. When they try to be part of four working groups,
they have four times as many interactions to track. They spend all their time
changing gears.
No one can be part of multiple jelled teams. The tight interactions of the
jelled team are exclusive. Enough fragmentation and teams just won’t jell.
The saddest thing is we allow far more fragmentation than is really necessary.
We tend to concede this battle without even a fight. Simply saying that a goal
is to assign people only one piece of work at a time can result in significant
reductions of fragmentation, and thus give teams a real chance to form.
The Quality-Reduced Product
The heading used here is a facetious one; nobody really talks about qualityreduced products. What they talk about is cost-reduced products. But it
usually boils down to the same thing. The typical steps we take to deliver a
product in less time result in lower quality. Often the product’s end user gives
willing consent to this trade-off (less quality for earlier, cheaper delivery). But
such concessions can be very painful for the developers. Their self-esteem
and enjoyment are undermined by the necessity of building a product of
clearly lower quality than what they are capable of.
An early casualty of quality reduction is whatever sense of team identification the group has been able to build. Co-workers who are developing a
shoddy product don’t even want to look each other in the eye. There is no
joint sense of accomplishment in store for them. They know that there will be
a general sense of relief when they can stop doing what they’re doing. At the
end of the project, they’ll make every effort to separate themselves from other
members of the group, and get on to better things.
Phony Deadlines
In Chapter 3, “Vienna Waits for You,” we made the point that tight deadlines can sometimes be demotivating. But there are certainly cases where a
tight but not impossible deadline can constitute an enjoyable challenge to the
team. What’s never going to help, however, is a phony deadline. When the
manager intones, “We absolutely must be done by _____,” group members
can barely keep their eyes from rolling. They’ve been there before. They know
the whole routine.
Maybe phony deadlines used to work. Maybe there were once workers so
naïve that they actually believed what they heard. When the boss said the
job “absolutely, positively has to be done by January,” maybe they just accepted it and buckled down. Maybe. But it certainly doesn’t work that way
anymore. The people on your staff will know if they’re being bamboozled. If
you say the product absolutely has to be out the door by some arbitrary date,
they will ask, “Why? Will the universe grind to a halt if we’re late? Will the
company fold? Will the nation slide into the sea? Will Western Civilization
break down?”
In the typical phony deadline spiel, the manager announces that the work
must be done on such and such a date. The date mentioned is impossible to
meet, and everyone knows it. The effort will certainly slip (so much for the
idea that the deadline is absolute). The work has been defined in such a way
that success is impossible. The message to the workers is clear: The boss is
a Parkinsonian robot with no respect or concern for them. The boss believes
they won’t do a stroke of work except under duress. Don’t expect a jelled
team on that project.
Clique Control
A participant at one of our seminars made this observation: “The only time
our management shows any awareness of teams is when it takes specific
steps to break them up.” There may be an explicit policy that teams can’t be
allowed to stay together from one job to another. Or, there may be a policy
that projects winding down have to be de-staffed smoothly over time so that
the personnel organization can steer people efficiently into new projects. This
assures that teams will be broken up. Still other organizations take no specific
steps to disband teams, but miss every opportunity to keep them together.
The pleasures of team activity and the energy that is produced by team
interaction are articles of faith in our society. How did business organizations
ever come to be so apathetic or even antipathetic toward teams? Part of the
reason is insecurity, as indicated in Chapter 22, “The Black Team.” Another
part is a conspicuously low consciousness of teams in upper management.
The team phenomenon, as we’ve described it, is something that happens only
at the bottom of the hierarchy. For all the talk about “management teams,”
there really is no such thing—certainly never jelled teams at the managerial
level. When managers are bonded into teams, it’s only because they serve
dual roles: manager on the one hand and group member on the other. They
become accepted as part-time peers by the people they manage. As you go
higher and higher in the organization chart, the concept of jelled teams recedes further and further into oblivion.
Once More Over the Same Depressing Ground
Most organizations don’t set out consciously to kill teams. They just act that way.
24 Teamicide Revisited
The seven kinds of teamicide we described in the previous chapter
seemed to us (when we wrote the first edition) to stretch all the way
from the alpha to the omega of the subject. But there were two important kinds of teamicide that we missed. Like the original seven, these two are
practiced widely in our field. One of them has become so ubiquitous that a
small growth industry has sprung up to support it....
Those Damn Posters and Plaques
Pick up the airline magazine or on-board shoppers’ catalog on your next
flight and flip through the full-page advertisements. Somewhere in there you
will come upon a colorful selection of inspirational posters and framed messages for display on corporate walls (lest someone use up the wall space with
work products). Don’t just glance at them, but force yourself to read through
them all, turning over their texts in your mind and savoring their syrupy
prose. If you’re not angry by the time you’re done, you may have been serving under lousy managers for much too much of your career.
Most forms of teamicide do their damage by effectively demeaning the
work, or demeaning the people who do it. Teams are catalyzed by a common
sense that the work is important and that doing it well is worthwhile. The
word well in this last sentence is essential: The team assigns itself the task of
setting and upholding a standard of prideful workmanship. All team members
understand that the quality of the work is important to the organization, but
the team adopts a still higher standard to distinguish itself. Without this distinguishing factor, the group is just a group, never a real team.
Into this complicated mix, now imagine dropping a $150 framed poster
to advise people that “Quality Is Job One.” Oh. Gee, we never would have
thought that. No sir, we sort of assumed—until this wonderful poster came
along—that Quality was Job Twenty-nine, or maybe Eleventy-seven, or maybe
even lower than that on the corporate value scale, maybe someplace after reducing ear wax or sorting the trash. But now we know. Thanks.
These motivational accessories, as they are called (including slogan coffee
mugs, plaques, pins, key chains, and awards), are a triumph of form over substance. They seem to extol the importance of Quality, Leadership, Creativity,
Teamwork, Loyalty, and a host of other organizational virtues. But they do
so in such simplistic terms as to send an entirely different message: Management here believes that these virtues can be improved with posters rather than
by hard work and managerial talent. Everyone quickly understands that the
presence of the posters is a sure sign of the absence of hard work and talent.
That important matters like these should be the subject of motivational
posters is already an insult. But the implementation makes it even worse.
Consider an example marketed by one company: It shows a soft-focus image
of sweating oarsmen, rowing in perfect unison through the misty morning.
Underneath it reads, in part,
T•E•A•M•W•O•R•K
The Fuel That Allows Common People To Attain
Uncommon Results
The “common people” they’re talking about here are you and your workmates. Common people. (Don’t take it too hard.) At least they’re consistent in
attitude: The same company’s Leadership poster tells us that “the speed of the
leader determines the rate of the pack.” The pack. Yep, that’s you again.
Motivational accessories are phony enough to make most people’s skin
crawl. They do harm in healthy organizations. The only place where they
do no harm is where they are ignored—as in companies where the harm was
done long, long ago and people have ceased to register any further decline.
Overtime: An Unanticipated Side Effect
You may already have picked up a certain bias in this book’s original chapters against the use of overtime. It has been our experience that the positive
potential of working extra hours is far exaggerated, and that its negative
impact is almost never considered. That negative impact can be substantial:
error, burnout, accelerated turnover, and compensatory undertime. In this
section, we examine yet another negative effect of overtime: its teamicidal
repercussions on otherwise healthy work groups.
Imagine a project with a well-jelled team. You and your colleagues are
producing good work at a rate that is frankly astonishing, even to you and
your boss. You all understand this to be the beneficial effect of team jell,
that the whole of your team production capacity is greater than the sum of
your individual productivities. But it’s still not enough. The powers that be
have promised the product for June, and it’s just not going to get done at
the current rate.
Sounds like a case for a little overtime, right? You move the team into
high gear, add a few hours to the workweek (still at the same high production
rate), maybe work a few Saturdays. There is only one problem: One of your
teammates—let’s call him Allen—just doesn’t have the flexibility that the rest
of you enjoy. He is a widower and thus the primary caregiver for his little
boy. Allen has to show up at the day-care facility at 5:15 each afternoon to
pick the child up. As you might imagine, his Saturdays and Sundays, the only
real quality time with his son, are inviolable.
“Hey, that’s okay,” you think. “We’ll cover for Allen. We all understand.”
And you all do... in the beginning.
A few months later, however, the rest of you are starting to show the strain.
All your Saturdays have been gobbled up, as have most of your Sundays.
You’ve been working sixty-plus hours a week for longer than you thought
possible, and your spouses and kids are grumbling. Your laundry is piling up,
your bills are unpaid, your vacation plans have been scrapped. Allen, through
all this, is still working a forty-hour week. Finally, somebody says what you
are all thinking: “I’m getting pretty sick of carrying Allen.”
What’s happened here? A team that was positively humming with the good
effects of jell has been pried apart by an overtime policy that could not be
applied uniformly to the team members. But the members of good teams are
never uniform in any respect, certainly not in their abilities to “borrow” time
from their personal lives. In almost any team of four or five or six people,
there are bound to be a few who can’t be expected to put in the kind of overtime that might fit pretty well into some of the others’ lives. All that can be
shrugged off as unimportant if the overtime is only a matter of a few long
evenings and maybe one extra weekend day. But if the overtime drags on
over months and starts to exact a real toll on even the most willing team
members, there is bound to be damage to team cohesion. The people who
aren’t sharing the pain will become, little by little, estranged from the others.
And the team magic will be gone.
Extended overtime is a productivity-reduction technique, anyway. The extra hours are almost always more than offset by the negative side effects. This
is true even if you don’t consider the disruption of the team. When you take
into account the way that the team members’ differing abilities to work overtime tends to destroy teams, the case against it becomes persuasive.
Most managers have at least a suspicion that overtime doesn’t help, that
projects that work a lot of overtime are not much of a credit to their managers’ skills and talents. But they end up allowing or encouraging overtime,
anyway. Why is this? Consultant and author Jerry Weinberg has an answer of
sorts: He suggests that we don’t work overtime so much to get the work done
on time as to shield ourselves from blame when the work inevitably doesn’t
get done on time.
25 Competition
The issue of competition within a team or work group is a complicated
one, something that managers tend to disagree about. You’ve surely
heard the line that companies exist to compete with each other, so
by extension, a little competition within the company is a healthy way to
keep the competitive edge. Other managers conclude that something is wrong
when team members feel they are being pitted against each other. At the extreme, at least, competition is certain to inhibit team jell. If team members are
told, for example, that only the best one of them will be around next year,
you can be sure that they will not succeed in working together very well.
Consider an Analogy
Like managers, parents sometimes have to grapple with the issue of internal
competition. They may find that their children tend to be competitive with
each other. They may also try to reassure themselves that the competitive
edge will be useful in the rough and tumble of later life, so perhaps honing
that competitive edge within the family is okay.
But competition between siblings is not entirely okay. We know, for example, that highly competitive siblings tend to grow up to be distanced from
each other, while those who are less competitive as children have at least a
chance of building warm sibling friendships as adults. Chances are that you
know of at least one example of siblings who “don’t speak” as adults, or the
saddest extreme, entire families in which no two consecutive siblings have
maintained a relationship into adulthood.
There is now a substantial consensus about the ways that parents encourage or discourage sibling competition. Competition is likely to be fostered
when children are emotionally undernourished by their parents, when there
just isn’t enough time, respect, attention, and affection to go around.
Is it possible that internal competition in work teams is fostered by a manager’s lack of time, respect, attention, and affection for his or her people?
Though that may be too simplistic, we believe there is an important kernel of
truth to the idea.
Does It Matter? The Importance of Coaching
What is the long-term effect of heightened competition among people who
need to work together? One of the first victims is the easy, effective peercoaching that is ubiquitous in healthy teams.
As a manager, you may have convinced yourself that you ought to be the
principal coach to the team or teams that report to you. That certainly was
a common model in the past, when high-tech bosses tended to be proven
experts in the technologies their workers needed to master. Today, however,
the typical team of knowledge workers has a mix of skills, only some of
which the boss has mastered. The boss usually coaches only some of the team
members. What of the others? We are increasingly convinced that the team
members themselves provide most of the coaching.
When you observe a well-knit team in action, you’ll see a basic hygienic
act of peer-coaching that is going on all the time. Team members sit down in
pairs to transfer knowledge. When this happens, there is always one learner
and one teacher. Their roles tend to switch back and forth over time with,
perhaps, A coaching B about TCP/IP and then B coaching A about implementation of queues. When it works well, the participants are barely even aware
of it. They may not even identify it as coaching; to them, it may just seem
like work.
Whether it is named or not, coaching is an important factor in successful
team interaction. It provides coordination as well as personal growth to the
participants. It also feels good. We tend to look back on significant coaching
we’ve received as a near religious experience. We feel a huge debt to those
who have coached us in the past, a debt that we cheerfully discharge by
coaching others.
The act of coaching simply cannot take place if people don’t feel safe. In
a suitably competitive atmosphere, you would be crazy to let anyone see you
sitting down to be coached; it would be a clear indication that you knew less
than your coach about some subject matter. You would be similarly crazy
to coach someone else, as that person may eventually use your assistance to
pass you by.
Teamicide Re-revisited
Internal competition has the direct effect of making coaching difficult or
impossible. Since coaching is essential to the workings of a healthy team,
anything the manager does to increase competition within a team has to be
viewed as teamicidal. Here are some of the managerial actions that tend to
produce teamicidal side effects:
• Annual salary or merit reviews
• Management by objectives (MBO)
• Praise of certain workers for extraordinary accomplishment
• Awards, prizes, bonuses tied to performance
• Performance measurement in almost any form
But hold on here, aren’t these the very things that managers spend much
or even most of their time doing? Sadly, yes. And yet these actions are likely
to be teamicidal.
In his 1982 book Out of the Crisis, W. Edwards Deming set forth his now
widely followed “Fourteen Points.” Hidden among them, almost as an afterthought, is point 12B:
Remove barriers that rob people in management and in engineering of their right to pride of workmanship. This means [among
other things] abolishment of the annual or merit rating and of
management by objectives.
Even people who think of themselves as Deming-ites have trouble with
this one. They are left gasping, What the hell are we supposed to do instead?
Deming’s point is that MBO and its ilk are managerial cop-outs. By using
simplistic extrinsic motivators to goad performance, managers excuse themselves from harder matters such as investment, direct personal motivation,
thoughtful team formation, staff retention, and ongoing analysis and redesign of work procedures.
Our point here is somewhat more limited: Any action that rewards team
members differentially is likely to foster competition. Managers need to take
steps to decrease or counteract this effect.
Mixing Metaphors
We interrupt this message for...
A Startling Confession from the Authors
Throughout this book, we have used and discussed the sports team as a
metaphor for a well-jelled technical work group; we are now obliged to emphasize here our growing disenchantment with this metaphor.
Most troubling to us these days is what the sports team metaphor implies about competition. Football teams and soccer teams and baseball teams
compete within their leagues, but they also promote a good deal of internal
competition. Those players who “ride the pines,” for example, must feel just
the littlest bit competitive toward the first string. Oh sure, they are rooting
for them to win, of course, but perhaps not to look too great in the process.
In high school, I was the shortest member of our varsity basketball team. I still remember the guy who had to foul out before I would be put in. His name was Doug
Timmerman. He was the most damnably gifted player; he almost never fouled
anybody. I loved him like a brother, but still...
—TDM
We have all seen sports teams that succeeded in spite of the failure of
one of the individuals. We have also seen individual team members have a
great night while their team was losing badly. The success or failure of the
individual is thus disconnected from the success or failure of the group as a
whole. This is an imperfect situation, one that only exacerbates any incipient
tendency toward competition.
By contrast, as an example, a choir or glee club makes an almost perfect
linkage between the success or failure of the individual and that of the group.
(You’ll never have people congratulate you on singing your part perfectly
while the choir as a whole sings off-key.)
So, belatedly, we need to tell you that the musical ensemble would have
been a happier metaphor for what we are trying to do in well-jelled work
groups. We’re not the only ones, of course, to use the term “team” to describe
such a group.
Whether you call it a “team” or an “ensemble” or a “harmonious work
group” is not what matters; what matters is helping all parties understand
that the success of the individual is tied irrevocably to the success of the
whole.
26 A Spaghetti Dinner
Picture yourself a technical worker who’s just been assigned to a new
project. You know the manager and most of the other project personnel by name, but that’s about it. Your first day on the new project is
next Monday. On Wednesday before that Monday, you get a call from your
boss-to-be. She’s having a get-together, she says, for people on the new project. Is there any chance you could come by her place on Thursday evening
for dinner with the rest of the team? You’re free and want to meet the new
group, so you accept.
When you arrive, the whole group is sitting around the living room drinking beer and telling war stories. You join in and tell a few of your own. The
client liaison, who has also been invited, does a bit about his department
head. Everybody has another beer. You begin to wonder about food. There is
no smell of anything cooking and no sign of anyone working in the kitchen.
Finally, your boss-to-be admits that she hasn’t had time to make dinner, and
suggests that the whole crew walk over to a nearby supermarket and assemble
the makings of a meal. “I guess we must be capable of putting a spaghetti
dinner together.”
Team Effects Beginning to Happen
Off you go. In the supermarket, you amble as a group through the aisles. Nobody takes charge. Your boss seems to have anything on her mind but dinner.
She chats and laughs and offers up a story about the IRS. In spite of a general
lack of direction, some things do get thrown into the cart. One fellow has already gotten the salad pretty well taken care of. There is some talk of making
a clam sauce, and when nobody’s opposed, two of your new mates begin to
talk out the details. You decide to make your patented garlic bread. Someone
else picks out a bottle of Chianti. Finally, there is a consensus that enough
stuff is in the cart for dinner.
Back at the ranch, you all set down your bags of groceries and the boss
grabs another beer and tells about a new software tool. Little by little, the
party gravitates toward the kitchen where some preparations are beginning.
Your boss gives no direction, but she pitches in to chop onions when someone suggests that’s what’s needed. You start the garlic and olive oil simmering in a pan. There is a sauce bubbling and some spaghetti boiling. Gradually,
a dinner comes together. You all eat till you’re full and then share in the
cleanup chores.
What’s Been Going On Here?
So far, nobody has billed a single day of effort to the project, but you’ve just
had your first success as a group. Success breeds success, and productive
harmony breeds more productive harmony. Your chances of jelling into a
meaningful team are enhanced by your very first experience together.
Presented this way, the spaghetti dinner may seem like a contrivance on
the manager’s part. But it probably wasn’t and wouldn’t have seemed like it
had you been there. If you had asked the manager in question what she had
in mind for the evening, she would have probably replied in total sincerity,
“Dinner.” A natural manager has got a subconscious feel for what’s good for
the team. This feel may govern decisions throughout the project. The entire
experience is organized for small, easy, joint successes. You have to look
twice to see the manager’s hand in any of this; it just seems to be happening.
Variations on the story of the spaghetti dinner have been told to us in
different forms and about different managers for years. The common thread
is that good managers provide frequent easy opportunities for the team to
succeed together. The opportunities may be tiny pilot subprojects, or demonstrations, or simulations, anything that gets the team quickly into the habit of
succeeding together. The best success is the one in which there is no evident
management, in which the team works as a genial aggregation of peers. The
best boss is the one who can manage this over and over again without the
team members knowing they’ve been “managed.” These bosses are viewed by
their peers as just lucky. Everything seems to break right for them. They get
a fired-up team of people, the project comes together quickly, and everyone
stays enthusiastic through the end. These managers never break into a sweat.
It looks so easy that no one can believe they are managing at all.
27 Open Kimono
Growing jelled teams is a fairly chancy matter. Nobody does it consistently. Nobody can make it happen, particularly when it would be
most useful. Sometimes the mix is wrong. And sometimes the group
is staffed with folks who aren’t disposed to become part of a team; they’re
loners and always will be.
In his book People and Project Management, Rob Thomsett analyzes certain of the pathologies that interfere with team formation. It makes fascinating reading. However, few of these pathologies are treatable. About the only
remedy is to remove certain members from the project because they hurt the
chances of a team to jell. That may sound okay in the abstract, but in any specific case you’re likely to find such a remedy plain silly. The very person you’d
be inclined to do without for this reason will probably be a star in many other
respects. Lots of efforts have to proceed (and succeed) without jelled teams.
Having said all that, we know this indisputable fact: Some managers are
pretty good at helping teams to jell. They succeed more often than not. In
this chapter, we examine one characteristic of these team-oriented managers.
Calling In Well
Chances are you’ve heard of people calling in sick. You may
have called in sick a few times yourself. But have you ever thought
of calling in well?
It’d go like this: You’d get the boss on the line and say, “Listen, I’ve been sick ever since I started working here, but today I’m
well and I won’t be in anymore.”1
1. T. Robbins, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues (New York, Bantam Books, 1977), p. 280.
When people talk about an organization that you’d have to be “sick” to work
for, they’re not referring to physiological sickness. They mean that working
in such a place would require them to disregard certain mental survival rules,
rules that protect the well-being of the psychological self. The most important
of these rules has to do with self-regard. A job situation that hurts your selfregard is itself “sick.”
The person who calls in well is ready for work that enhances self-regard.
Assignment to such work is an acknowledgment of certain areas of competence, and it provides autonomy and responsibility in these areas. Managers
of well workers are careful to respect that autonomy, once granted. They
know that a worker’s failure will reflect badly on the boss, but that’s just the
breaks of the game. They’re prepared to suffer the occasional setback, a direct
result of failure by one of their people. When it happens, they suspect it will
be a failure that they themselves would never have caused, had they been doing the work rather than managing it. But so what? You give your best shot
to putting the right person in the position, but once he or she is there, you
don’t second-guess.
This Open Kimono attitude is the exact opposite of defensive management.
You take no steps to defend yourself from the people you’ve put into positions of trust. And all the people under you are in positions of trust. A person
you can’t trust with any autonomy is of no use to you.
One of my first bosses was Jerry Wiener, who had run a development team for
General Electric on the Dartmouth time-sharing project. He later formed a small
high-technology company. At the time I came along, the company was about to
enter into a contract that was larger than anything it had ever done before. The
entire staff was assembled as our corporate lawyer handed Jerry the contract and
told him to read it and sign on the last page. “I don’t read contracts,” Jerry said,
and started to sign. “Oh, wait a minute,” said the lawyer, “let me go over it one
more time.”
—TDM
The lesson here is not that you should sign contracts without reading them
(though that may not be a terrible rule in cases where you pay counsel to
look out for your interests). If you’ve got the wrong counsel, you’re in deep
bananas anyway. Managers who are most proficient at getting the work done
are likely to be way out of their depth in evaluating contracts for the work.
Reading contracts may be little more than a conceit. Jerry had taken great
pains to hire the best counsel he could find. He’d certainly looked over other
instances of the man’s work. This was not the time to be defensive; it was the
time to make it clear to everyone that the boss was assuming and depending
on competence around him.
It’s heady and a little frightening to know that the boss has put part of
his or her reputation into the subordinates’ hands. It brings out the best in
everyone. The team has something meaningful to form around. They’re not
just getting a job done. They’re making sure that the trust that’s been placed
in them is rewarded. It is this kind of Open Kimono management that gives
teams their best chance to form.
The Getaway Ploy
The most common means by which bosses defend themselves from their own
people is direct physical oversight. They wander through the work areas,
looking for people goofing off or for incompetence about to happen. They are
the Parkinsonian Patrol, alert for people to kick. Of course, nobody (neither
manager nor worker) thinks about it that way, since it’s so much a part of
the corporate culture. But the thought of doing without it is inconceivable to
many managers.
A recent consulting assignment involved taking part in a project to build a customer information system for a California company. The spec was written and we
were ready to start blueprinting internal design. The boss called us all together
and handed each person a map showing the way to an office in faraway Long
Beach. He explained that there was a free conference room there where we could
work uninterrupted. He would stay behind and fend off all but the most essential
phone calls. We were told, “Come back when you’re done.” More than two weeks
later, we came back with a hotshot design. He never called or dropped in once
during the whole period.
—TRL
If you’ve got decent people under you, there is probably nothing you can
do to improve their chances of success more dramatically than to get yourself
out of their hair occasionally. Any easily separable task is a perfect opportunity. There is no real management required for such work. Send them away.
Find a remote office, hire a conference room, borrow somebody’s summer
house, or put them up at a hotel. Take advantage of off-season rates at ski
areas or at beaches. Have them go to a conference, and then stay over for a
few days to work together in peace. (We’ve heard of at least one instance of
each of these ploys.)
Such a plan will cost you some points with your own management and
peers, because it’s so audacious. How can you know, they’ll ask you, that
your people aren’t loafing this very minute? How can you be sure they won’t
knock off for lunch at eleven and drink away their afternoons? The simple
answer is you’ll know by the product they come back with. By their fruits,
ye shall know them. If they bring back a carefully thought-out and complete
result, they worked. If they don’t, they didn’t. Visual supervision is a joke for
development workers. Visual supervision is for prisoners.
Getting away from the office helps in many ways. First of all, it removes
your highest-priced resources from the distractions and interruptions that
fritter away so much of their time. You may succeed someday in building a
productive office environment, a workplace where it’s at least possible to get
something useful done between 9 and 5. But you can only do this in the long
run. In the short run, use any excuse to get your people out. In addition to
making them more efficient, the getaway and the periods of total autonomy
give them an improved chance to jell into a high-momentum team.
There Are Rules and We Do Break Them
The engineering profession is famous for a kind of development mode that
doesn’t exist elsewhere: the skunkworks project. Skunkworks implies that the
project is hidden away someplace where it can be done without upper management’s knowing what’s going on. This happens when people at the lowest
levels believe so strongly in the rightness of a product that they refuse to accept management’s decision to kill it. Digital Equipment Corporation’s PDP11,
one of DEC’s most successful products, came to the market in this manner.
There is a lore about such projects. The amusing thing is that skunkworks is
really just another word for insubordination. Management says no, and the
project goes on anyway.
One of our clients tried to cancel a product that was judged to have no
market. Cooler heads prevailed and the product was built. It became a huge
success. The manager who had unsuccessfully tried to kill the project (he now
had become president of the whole company) ordered a medal for the team,
with the citation “First Annual Prize for Insubordination.” He presented it
with a speech, stating that others seeking the award had better be just as successful. Being an insubordinate failure wouldn’t get anybody a prize.
People at all levels know whether some sensible insubordination is acceptable or not. People look out for their Open Kimono managers. They’re
determined to make them look good, even though the managers may botch an
occasional decision. Defensive managers are on their own.
Chickens with Lips
In the mid-1970s, systems and organizational consultant Larry Constantine was
counseling certain client companies to help them build a healthy corporate
sociology. One of the things he advised was for the companies to allow people
at the lowest level some voice in team selection. As implemented, the idea was
that the company would post new projects on a central kiosk. People would
form themselves into candidate teams and then “bid” on jobs. If you had a hankering to work with some of your mates, you would put your résumés together
and make a joint pitch for the job. The points in your favor were how wellsuited you were to the job, how well you complemented each other’s capacities,
and how little it would disrupt other work in the company to assign you as a
group to this project. The company picked the best-suited team for each job.
This scheme gave people two unusual degrees of freedom: They got to
choose the projects they worked on and the people they worked with. The
surprising finding was that the first of these factors didn’t matter very much.
Management initially feared that only the glamorous projects would be bid
for, but it didn’t happen that way. Even the most mundane projects were bid
for. What seemed to matter was the chance for people to work with those they
wanted to work with.
The idea of an employment audition, presented in Chapter 16, “Hiring a
Juggler,” has a similar effect. The project members who listen to the audition
are not just an audience; they have a say in whether the person gets the offer.
In addition to technical judgment, they’re supplying a team perspective on
how well the candidate will fit in: “I think we could work with this guy,” or
“He seems well-qualified, but he’d stick out like a sore thumb in this group.”
Some years ago, we were part of a pretty well-knit working group, a group
whose members started to have many characteristics in common—in particular, a similar sense of humor. We even developed a shared theory about humor. This theory held that some things are intrinsically funny. Chickens, for
instance, are funny, but horses aren’t. Lips are hilarious, elbows and knees are
funny, but shoulders are just shoulders. One day we had an audition for a new
group member. After he’d spoken and left, one of our colleagues critiqued, “I
guess you can’t fault his knowledge. But do you think he’d ever come to understand that chickens with lips are funny?” The candidate didn’t get the job.
Who’s in Charge Here?
The best bosses take some chances. They take chances on their people. None of
this says that good managers don’t manage, that they don’t give direction and
make judgments of their own. They have to do this all the time. The suggestion
here is that they do this only by exercising their natural authority. Between
master craftsman and apprentice there is a bond of natural authority—the master knows how to do the work and the apprentice does not. Submitting to
this kind of authority demeans no one, it doesn’t remove incentive, it doesn’t
make it impossible to knit with fellow workers. An insecure need for obedience is the opposite of natural authority. It says, “Recognize me as a different
caste of creature, a manager. I belong to the thinking class. Those beneath me
are employed to carry out my decisions.”
In the best organizations, there is natural authority working in all directions. The manager is known to be better at some things, perhaps setting general directions, negotiating, and hiring, and is trusted to do those things. Each
of the workers is known to have some special area of expertise, and is trusted
by all as a natural authority in that area. In this atmosphere of Open Kimono,
the team has its optimal chance to jell.
28 Chemistry for Team Formation
Some organizations are famous for their consistent good luck in getting
well-knit teams to happen. It isn’t luck, of course; it’s chemistry. There
is something about those organizations, some optimal mix of competence and trust and mutual esteem and well-person sociology that provides
perfect soil for the growth of jelled teams. And it’s not only team formation
that benefits from these factors. Everything works better. These organizations
are just plain healthy.
Rather than illustrate this with an example from our experience, we encourage you to think of one from your own. Have you ever been in an organization that simply glowed with health? People were at ease, having a good
time, and enjoying interactions with their peers. There was no defensiveness,
no sense that single individuals were trying to succeed in spite of the efforts
of those around them. The work was a joint product. Everybody was proud
of its quality. (At least a glimmer of this healthy glow should be apparent in
your present situation. If not, perhaps it’s time to call in well, and get your
résumé out.)
What are managers up to in these healthiest companies? A quick surface
appraisal might convince you they aren’t up to much at all. They don’t seem
busy. They’re not giving a lot of directions. Whatever their relationship is to
the work going on around them, they’re certainly not doing any of it.
In organizations with the best chemistry, managers devote their energy to
building and maintaining healthy chemistry. Departments and divisions that
glow with health do so because their managers make it happen. There is a holistic integrity to their method, and so it’s hard to break down and analyze the
component parts (how the parts fit together into a whole is more important
than what the parts are). But it’s still worth a try.
Presented below is an admittedly simplistic list of the elements of a
chemistry-building strategy for a healthy organization:
• Make a cult of quality.
• Provide lots of satisfying closure.
• Build a sense of eliteness.
• Allow and encourage heterogeneity.
• Preserve and protect successful teams.
• Provide strategic but not tactical direction.
There are more. We’ve cited only those elements that have a particular effect on team formation. The following subsections provide our comments on
each of these points.
The Cult of Quality
The judgment that a still-imperfect product is “good enough” is the death
knell for a jelling team. There can be no impetus to bind together with your
cohorts for the joint satisfaction gained from delivering mediocre work. The
opposite attitude, of “only perfect is good enough for us,” gives the team a
real chance. This cult of quality is the strongest catalyst for team formation.
It binds the team together because it sets its members apart from the rest
of the world. The rest of the world, remember, doesn’t give a hoot for quality.
Oh, it talks a good game, but if quality costs a nickel extra, you quickly see
the true colors of those who would have to shell out the nickel.
Our friend Lou Mazzucchelli, one of the founders of Cadre Technologies,
Inc., was in the market for a paper shredder. He had a salesman come in to
demonstrate a unit. It was a disaster. It was enormous and noisy (it made a
racket even when it wasn’t shredding). Our friend asked about a German-made
shredder he’d heard about. The salesman was contemptuous. It cost nearly
half again as much and didn’t have a single extra feature, he responded. “All
you get for that extra money,” he said, “is better quality.”
Your marketplace, your product consumers, your clients, and your upper
management are never going to make the case for high quality. Extraordinary
quality doesn’t make good short-term economic sense. When team members
develop a cult of quality, they always turn out something that’s better than
what their market is asking for. They can do this, but only when protected
from short-term economics. In the long run, this always pays off. People get
high on quality and outdo themselves to protect it.
The cult of quality works like the grain of sand in an oyster; it is a focal
point for the team to bind around.
I Told Her I Loved Her When I Married Her
It may be news to some, but the human creature needs reassurance from time
to time that he or she is headed in the right direction. Teams of human creatures need it, too. Such reassurance comes from what psychologists call closure. Closure is the satisfying “thunk” of pieces of the whole falling into place.
Organizations also have some need for closure. Closure for the organization is the successful finish of the work as assigned, plus perhaps an occasional confirmation along the way that everything is on target (maybe a
milestone achieved or a significant partial delivery completed). How much
confirmation corporations require is a function of how much money is at risk.
Sometimes, closure only at the end of a four-year effort is adequate for the
needs of the organization.
The problem here is that organizations have far less need for closure than
do the people who work for them. The prospect of four years of work without
any satisfying “thunk” leaves everyone in the group thinking, “I could be
dead before this thing is ever done.” Particularly when the team is coming
together, frequent closure is important. Team members need to get into the
habit of succeeding together and liking it. This is part of the mechanism by
which the team builds momentum.
The chemistry-building manager takes pains to divide the work into pieces
and makes sure that each piece has some substantive demonstration of its
own completion. Such a manager may contrive to deliver a product in twenty
versions, even though two are sufficient for upper management and the user.
It may even be necessary to conceal some of these interim versions from the
client, and build them only for internal confirmation and satisfaction. Each
new version is an opportunity for closure. Team members get warmed up as
the moment approaches; they sprint near the very end. They get a high from
success. It suffuses them with renewed energy for the next step. It makes
them feel closer together.
The Elite Team
In the early 1970s, a vice president of one of our client companies sent around
a memo on the subject of travel expenses to everyone in his division. You
may have received similar memos on the topic yourself, but this one was different. It said more or less this: “It has come to my attention that some of you,
when traveling on expenses, have been traveling economy class. This is not
an economy-class organization. This is a first-class organization. When you
fly on business from now on, you will fly first class.” Of course, that memo
cost money. The expense was very real and the only thing you could balance against it was an enhanced sense of eliteness. At least one organization
thought that was a valid trade-off. Couldn’t happen in a real-world corporation, you say? It happened at Xerox.
Those who think popcorn is “unprofessional” think team eliteness is downright subversive. There is a widespread feeling that managers are just not
doing their jobs if the team sticks out in any way. The group’s adherence to a
corporate standard of uniformity is almost a symbol of the manager’s degree
of control. Yet from the viewpoint of the people being managed, this symbol
is deadly. The more comforting it is to the manager, the more it saps the lifeblood of the team.
People require a sense of uniqueness to be at peace with themselves, and
they need to be at peace with themselves to let the jelling process begin.
When management acts to stifle uniqueness, uniqueness happens anyway.
People simply express their uniqueness in uncontrolled dimensions. For example, employees who take a perverse pride in being difficult to manage or
hard to motivate or unable to work with others may be reacting to too much
control. They would almost certainly rather express themselves in some less
difficult way, something that would not work to the detriment of the group’s
effectiveness.
What could be wrong with a team that is uniquely quality-conscious or
uniquely productive or uniquely competent to meet a tough deadline? Nothing,
you might think, yet even these nominally acceptable forms of uniqueness are
upsetting to lots of managers. They grumble that the teams are unmanageable
and uppity. What’s really threatened by the team’s eliteness is not manageability, but the trappings of managerial strength. The team might be hell-bent on
success, but the manager is worried about being considered a wimp.
If you could effect some change in the people you manage and make them
much more productive and goal-directed but also less controllable, would
you do it? The answer to this question distinguishes the great managers from
the merely mediocre. The mediocre manager is too insecure to give up the
trappings. The great manager knows that people can’t be controlled in any
meaningful sense anyway. The essence of successful management is to get
everyone pulling in the same direction and then somehow get them fired up
to the point that nothing, not even their manager, could stop their progress.
A jelled team does have the effect of making people more productive and
goal-directed. And you do give up some control, or at least the illusion of
control, when it jells. The team begins to feel elite in some way or other, with
all members of the team sharing in the sense of eliteness. The unique thing
about the team doesn’t have to be anything very fundamental. For example,
there was one championship football defensive unit whose only unique characteristic was that all members of the team were “no-names.” It was enough.
They took pride in that fact and knit around it. Whatever the elite characteristic is, it forms the basis of the team’s identity, and identity is an essential
ingredient of a jelled team.
An important qualifier here is that teams need to be unique in some sense,
but not in all senses. There are lots of examples of teams that comply with institutional standards of appearance. Military specialty teams and most sports
teams dress alike. But as long as they are allowed to feel unique in some
sense, they can conform in others.
Managers who feel threatened by elite teams often talk of the deleterious
effect their eliteness can have on people outside the team. If members of one
small working group begin to characterize themselves as Winners, isn’t everyone else automatically put into the category Losers? It is true that extremely
successful teams can be daunting to those outside the team. But this is not so
much the effect of the team as of the success. If this is your only problem, you
should be writing your own book.
On Not Breaking Up the Yankees
If a team does knit, don’t break it up. At least give people the option to undertake another project together. They may choose to go their separate ways, but
they ought to have the choice. When teams stay together from one project to
the next, they start out each new endeavor with enormous momentum.
A Network Model of Team Behavior
This may offend your sensibilities as a manager, but managers are usually not
part of the teams that they manage. Teams are made up of peers, equals that
function as equals. The manager is most often outside the team, giving occasional direction from above and clearing away administrative and procedural
obstacles. By definition, the manager is not a peer and so can’t be part of the
peer group.
This idea is upsetting to managers who pride themselves on their leadership. Isn’t the manager supposed to supply leadership, to function as quarterback, spiriting the team on to victory through judicious play selection and
split-second timing? That may sound good, but the team that needs that much
leadership isn’t functioning very well as a team. On the best teams, different individuals provide occasional leadership, taking charge in areas where they have
particular strengths. No one is the permanent leader, because that person would
then cease to be a peer and the team interaction would begin to break down.
The structure of a team is a network, not a hierarchy. For all the deference
paid to the concept of leadership (a cult word in our industry), it just doesn’t
have much place here.
Selections from a Chinese Menu
In writing about teams, we have traded somewhat on the easy analogy between teams in industry and teams in sports. The very word team conjures up
an image of healthy young folks sweatily pursuing footballs or hockey pucks
or each other. It’s hard to think about teams without reference to sports, but
the sports analogy carries some unfortunate baggage.
The typical team you see thrashing away on weekend television is made
up of individuals with a lot in common: Members of a basketball team, for
instance, may all be tall, young, strong, and of the same sex. They’re alike
because the nature of their endeavor requires that they be alike. There is less
of a requirement for sameness on development project teams. But since our
whole notion of teams is affected by the sports example, we often expect
sameness on the team and perhaps unwittingly bring it about.
A little bit of heterogeneity can be an enormous aid to create a jelled team.
Add one handicapped developer to a newly formed work group, and the odds
go up that the team will knit. The same effect can result from adding a co-op
student or an ex-admin on the first project after being retrained. Whatever
the heterogeneous element is, it takes on symbolic importance to team members. It is a clear signal that it’s okay not to be a clone, okay not to fit into the
corporate mold of Uniform Plastic Person.
The saddest example of the overly homogeneous work group is the allmale team. Of course, women function as well on teams as men. Any man
who has worked on mixed teams would find it hard to imagine ever again
working in the all-male environment. That was our grandfathers’ sad lot.
Putting It All Together
You can’t always make it happen, but when a team does come together, it’s
worth the cost. The work is fun; the people are energized. They roll over deadlines and milestones and look for more. They like themselves. They feel loyal
to the team and to the environment that allows the team to exist.
Part V: Fertile Soil 沃土
Projects and teams exist within a context provided by the larger organization. We call this context the corporate culture. Some cultures support healthy work, while others may make it almost impossible. While
factors at the organizational level might be beyond your ability to control,
they’re still worth considering. At worst, you need to be aware of what’s being imposed upon you from above; at best, you may someday be in a position
to revamp it to best facilitate the work going on in projects underneath you.
29 The Self-Healing System
An employee storms into the Personnel Department and resigns. The
next morning, he and his boss turn up to explain rather sheepishly
that the whole thing was a silly mistake. Would it be possible to
undo his resignation? The workers handling the case look at the partly completed transaction in some perplexity. Whoever had designed the procedures
for dealing with termination had made no allowance for undoing. But it’s
easy enough to see what will make it all come out right: Let’s see, we can just
drop this whole file into the wastebasket and pretend it never existed, then
we void out the final payroll check and run over to Harry’s desk and grab the
insurance cancellation forms before he sees them....
A system has just healed itself. Something had been left out of its original
design, something that turned out to be necessary. The people who make the
system go have fixed it on the fly. It happens all the time.
Deterministic and Nondeterministic Systems
When you automate a previously all-human system, it becomes entirely deterministic. The new system is capable of making only those responses planned
explicitly by its builders. So the self-healing quality is lost. Any response that
will be required must be put there in the first place. If ever the system needs
to be healed, that can only be done outside the context of its operation. Maintainers come in to take the system apart and reconstruct it with one or more
new planned responses added.
In one view, getting rid of the rather messy and uncontrollable self-healing
capacity is a positive benefit of automation. The system is planned “right” in
the first place, and then there is no need for tinkering during operation. But
it’s no secret that this can be expensive. Automators spend much of their
time thinking through situations that are so unlikely or occur so rarely that
the human elements of the old system never even bothered to consider them
unless and until they actually happened. If the business policy governing the
new system has a sufficient degree of natural ad hoc-racy, it’s a mistake to
automate it. Determinism will be no asset then; the system will be in constant
need of maintenance.
The reason that nondeterministic systems can often heal themselves painlessly and elegantly (sometimes at no cost at all) is that the humans who
make up the system have an easy familiarity with the underlying goals. When
a new situation crops up, they know immediately what action makes sense.
Someday it may be possible to teach computers the goals of the system instead of the actions expected to achieve the goals, but right now that’s beyond the horizon. The point here is that making a system deterministic will
result in the loss of its ability to heal itself.
The organization that you work in or manage is in some sense a system. It
is an amalgam of interacting people and processes that exist to achieve some
end. It’s all the vogue these days to talk of making such systems more deterministic. That brings us to the subject of Methodology.
The Covert Meaning of Methodology
The maddening thing about most of our organizations is that they are only
as good as the people who staff them. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could get
around that natural limit, and have good organizations even though they
were staffed by mediocre or incompetent people? Nothing could be easier—all
we need is (trumpet fanfare, please) a Methodology.
A Methodology is a general systems theory of how a whole class of
thought-intensive work ought to be conducted. It comes in the form of a fat
book that specifies in detail exactly what steps to take at any time, regardless
of who’s doing the work, regardless of where or when. The people who write
the Methodology are smart. The people who carry it out can be dumb. They
never have to turn their brains to the ON position. All they do is start on page
one and follow the Yellow Brick Road, like happy little Munchkins, all the
way from the start of the job to its successful completion. The Methodology
makes all the decisions; the people make none. The organization becomes
entirely deterministic.
Like any other system, a team of human workers will lose its self-healing
properties to the extent it becomes deterministic. The result can be workers
proceeding in directions that make no sense to them at all, a sure sign that
they can’t be doing any good. Some years ago, we conducted a postmortem of
a failed project by asking each of the project workers to record observations
about the project. They did this in the privacy of their own homes and we assured them that only we two, the consultants, would ever see their responses.
One of the project workers gave us this observation:
By March, we had been doing this [applying one of the techniques
dictated from on high] for nearly two months. I couldn’t see how
it was helping us in any way, but George kept assuring us that it
was. He said we should trust in the Methodology, and it would all
work out in the end.
Of course, it didn’t. The project workers are the ones most familiar with
the territory of the project. If a given direction doesn’t make sense to them, it
doesn’t make any sense at all.
There is a big difference between Methodology and methodology. Small m
methodology is a basic approach one takes to getting a job done. It doesn’t
reside in a fat book, but rather inside the heads of the people carrying out the
work. Such a methodology consists of two parts: a tailored plan (specific to
the work at hand) and a body of skills necessary to effect the plan. One could
hardly be opposed to methodology: The work couldn’t even begin without it.
But a Methodology is very different
Big M Methodology is an attempt to centralize thinking.
All meaningful
decisions are made by the Methodology builders, not by the staff assigned to
do the work. Those who espouse a Methodology have a long list of its supposed benefits, including standardization, documentary uniformity, managerial control, and state-of-the-art techniques. These make up the overt case for
the Methodology. The covert case is simpler and cruder: the idea that project
people aren’t smart enough to do the thinking.
Methodology Madness
Of course, if your people aren’t smart enough to think their way through their
work, the work will fail. No Methodology will help. Worse still, Methodologies
can do grievous damage to efforts in which the people are fully competent.
They do this by trying to force the work into a fixed mold that guarantees
• A morass of paperwork
• A paucity of methods
• An absence of responsibility
• A general loss of motivation
The following paragraphs comment on each of these effects.
Paperwork: The Methodologies themselves are huge and getting huger
(they have to grow to add the “features” required by each new kind of situation). It’s not at all unusual for a Methodology to use up a linear foot or more
of shelf space. Worse, they encourage people to build documents rather than
do work. The documentary obsession of such Methodologies seems to have
resulted from paranoid defensive thinking along these lines: “The last project
generated a ton of paper and it was still a disaster, so this project will have to
generate two tons.” The technological sectors of our economy have now been
through a decades-long flirtation with the idea that more and more and more
paperwork will solve its problems. Perhaps it’s time to introduce this contrary
and heretical notion:
Voluminous documentation is part of the problem, not part of the
solution.
Methods: The centerpiece of most Methodologies is the concept of standardized methods. If there were a thousand different but equally good ways to
go about the work, it might make some sense to choose one and standardize
upon it. But in our state of technological infancy, there are very few competing methods for most of the work we do. When there are genuine alternatives,
people have to know about and master them all. To standardize on one is to
exclude the others. It boils down to the view that knowledge is so valuable,
we must use it sparingly.
Responsibility: If something goes wrong on a Methodology effort, the fault
is with the Methodology, not the people. (The Methodology, after all, made all
of the decisions.) Working in such an environment is virtually responsibilityfree. People want to accept responsibility, but they won’t unless given acceptable degrees of freedom to control their own success.
Motivation: The message in the decision to impose a Methodology is apparent to all. Nothing could be more demotivating than the knowledge that
management thinks its workers incompetent.
The Issue of Malicious Compliance
Those who build Methodologies are tortured by the thought that thinking
people will simply ignore them. In many organizations, that is just what
happens. Even more upsetting is the opposite possibility: that people won’t
ignore the Methodology, but will instead do exactly what it says to do, even
when they know doing so will lead to wasted time, unworkable products,
and meaningless documentation. This is what our colleague Ken Orr calls
“malicious compliance.” When the Methodology calls for an 18-part operator’s manual, developers may write one, even for a product so deeply imbedded in an engine or a satellite that no operator intervention is possible.
When the Methodology says you have to fill out a database residency form
for each data element, developers may do so, even though the system has no
database.
In Australia, where striking uses up nearly as much labor time as working,
there is a charming form of strike called work to rule. Rather than walk off
the job, workers open up a fat book of procedures and announce, “Until you
give us what we’re asking for, we’re going to work exactly to the rule.” When
the air-traffic controllers do this, for instance, they can only land one plane
every seven minutes. If doctors were to do it, an appendectomy would take a
week. Introduction of a Methodology opens up the possibility of work-to-rule
actions in still more parts of the economy. People might actually do exactly
what the Methodology says, and the work would grind nearly to a halt.
The Baby and the Bathwater
Most of the benefits claimed on behalf of Methodologies are really benefits
of convergence of method. To the extent that different people doing the same
work converge on the same methods and use them the same way, there can
be real advantages. Maintenance personnel will be able to relate more quickly
to new products, developers will be able to move onto new projects and get
up to speed more quickly, metrics will be consistently defined from one effort
to another, and certain kinds of failures will be more readily detectable. Convergence of method is a good thing. But Methodologies are not the only way
to achieve convergence.
Methodologies seek to force convergence through statute. There is an inevitable backlash, the result partly of enforcers’ heavy-handedness and partly
of thinking workers’ strong sense of independence, the cowboy mentality
so common to those who populate any new frontier. Better ways to achieve
convergence of method are
Training: People do what they know how to do. If you give
them all a common core of methods, they will tend to use those
methods.
Tools: A few automated aids for modeling, design, implementation, and test will get you more convergence of method than all
the statutes you can pass.
Peer Review: In organizations where there are active peer-review
mechanisms (quality circles, walkthroughs, inspections, technology fairs), there is a natural tendency toward convergence.
It’s only after this kind of gently guided convergence that you may think
of publishing a standard. You can’t really declare something a standard until
it has already become a de facto standard. This is fundamental to the theory
of standardization at DuPont, for instance. That company’s standards manual
during the years we consulted there defined a standard as “a proven method
for undertaking a repeated task.” The manual went on to explain that proven
means “demonstrated widely and successfully within DuPont.” That seems
like common sense to us, but it goes against the industry-wide convention of
hunting out new approaches and imposing them as standards before anyone
in the organization has even tried them out.
The High-Tech Illusion Revisited
The obsession with Methodologies in the workplace is another instance of
the High-Tech Illusion. It stems from the belief that what really matters is the
technology. Even the best imaginable Methodology, one that prescribes exactly the right method for every activity, may give only a small improvement
in the technology. The people, after all, aren’t going to make every decision
wrong, even without guidance. Whatever the technological advantage may
CHAPTER 29 THE SELF-HEALING SYSTEM 181
be, it may come only at the price of a significant worsening of the team’s
sociology.
The opposite approach would be one in which every new undertaking is
run as a pilot project. To the extent that there was a standard way to carry
out the work, that would be the only way you weren’t allowed to carry it out.
The standard would be for at least one part of the effort to be run in a nonstandard way. (This seems to be an informal rule within certain divisions of
Fujitsu, for instance.)
In the spring of 1932, efficiency experts ran a series of tests at the Hawthorne Western Electric Company to determine the effects of various environmental parameters on productivity. They tried raising the light level, and they
noted that productivity went up. Then they tried lowering the light level, and
they noted that productivity went up higher still. They speculated that turning
the lights off entirely might send productivity through the roof. What seemed
to be happening was that the change itself wasn’t as important as the act of
changing. People were charmed by differentness, they liked the attention,
they were intrigued by novelty. This has come to be called the Hawthorne
Effect. Loosely stated, it says that people perform better when they’re trying
something new.
A careful study of the literature of productivity improvement could convince you that all productivity improvements are due to the Hawthorne Effect. Invariably, a paper that touts the wonderful benefits of X is reporting
on productivity gains when X was first introduced. You almost never hear
of a study that analyzes ten-year-old “improvements” to see if they are still
worthwhile. They probably aren’t. With only a modicum of cynicism, we subscribe to the view that the Hawthorne Effect accounts for most productivity
gains.
To allow the Hawthorne Effect to work for you, you have to make nonstandard approaches the rule. Whatever standard there is should be brief and
gentle. The total of all standards imposed upon your people should be described in no more than ten pages. (This is no pipe dream; many organizations that have given up on the Methodology-as-Law approach end up with
ten-page standards manuals.) You ought to be prepared to grant exceptions to
even this loose guide. This gives you a development environment consistent
with the views of that famous business sage Mao Tse-tung:
Let a hundred flowers blossom and
let a hundred schools of thought contend.
Of course, Mao didn’t really mean it, but we do.
30 Dancing with Risk
Our book Waltzing With Bears: Managing Risk on Software Projects
takes issue with two opposite kinds of behavior: risk-taking without
risk management, and risk-aversion that makes impossible the accomplishment of anything ambitious. What we now see in increasing numbers are organizations that manage to err on both sides: They take on one
class of stupid risk with impunity, while avoiding the very ones that might be
indicators of transformational value.
The Peopleware premise—our main problems are more likely to be sociological than technological in nature—applies nowhere more strongly than in
the area of risk. The mechanics of risk management are widely understood;
when it doesn’t get done, the reason is likely to be in the organization’s politics and culture.
Not Running Away from Risk
First of all, it’s worth saying that project risk is a good thing, a likely indicator of value. Projects that have real value but little or no risk were all done
ages ago. The ones that matter today are laden with risk.
Imagine that you were hired to run the project that Barnes & Noble undertook to create software support for its Nook e-reader. This is what you’re
up against: Your principal competition, Amazon, has simply run away with
the market; you are very late in getting started; your device has no particular
advantage over theirs (same underlying technology); you’re barely started
making deals with the publishers for electronic rights, and you’re probably
never going to catch up anyway with the number of books Amazon can already offer. What do you do?
What the benighted souls who were actually in that position did was to
take a huge risk. They decided to offer something that the competition had
not even thought of yet: library borrowing of e-publications. But think about
what’s involved to make that work: negotiations not just with publishers, but
with libraries and authors as well; establishing and implementing protocols
for the borrowing network; building software into the reader to make books
expire when the borrowing period is up; a royalty system to reward authors
of borrowed books. Risk, risk, and more risk. And coupled with the risks of
navigating those uncharted waters, there is also the risk that the market will
just say ho-hum. Who knows how much appeal borrowing is likely to have?
The risks paid off in this case. The Nook was delivered with its surprising
differentiator, and the market took to it.
Think about what your risk list would have looked like on that project.
There were lots of things that could have gone wrong along the way, and
managing them would have been a major part of your job. If you made up—
off the top of your head—a quick list of all those risks, we bet there’s one
important one you might have left out.
The One Risk We Almost Never Manage
The risk we tend not to manage is the risk of our own failure. If you and your
trusted team have to interact with a contractor from thousands of miles and
ten time zones away in a city you’ve never heard of, of course you put their
possible nonperformance at the top of your risk list. That’s obvious. But how
about the risk that you and your own team won’t meet your portion of the assigned goals? Of course, you worry about that; you may wake up at night in
a sweat over it. The reason it might not make your risk list is that it looks like
defeatism to carry a risk of your own nonperformance. After all, you’ve been
entrusted to assure performance; it’s your assigned responsibility.
To understand why not managing even this one risk is dangerous, you
need to consider the real reason for risk management: It’s not to make the
risks go away, but to enable sensible mitigation should they occur. And mitigation may well have to be planned and provisioned well ahead of time.
The infamous Denver International Airport Baggage Handling System is
a case in point. The powers that be had decided that on-time delivery of the
system was so important that nonperformance (lateness) could not be considered a risk. It wasn’t a risk because it simply wasn’t going to be allowed to
happen. The risk was whisked away by managerial fiat.
If they had managed the risk, they would have been obliged to plan a
manual or semi-automatic backup plan to move the bags in case the new
system wasn’t ready. They didn’t. So when the system was late, they had to
defer opening the airport. The capital cost of carrying a second nonfunctional
airport for more than a year eventually came to billions.
By the time the risk materialized and the system wasn’t available on opening day, it was too late to start mitigation planning. If, on the other hand, the
mitigation had been ready, the airport would have opened with old-fashioned,
temporary guys-plus-little-trucks moving the baggage, and the lateness of the
software system would have been nothing more than a minor disappointment. You never would have heard of DIA’s Baggage Handling System; no
one would have except the people on the project.
It’s perfectly reasonable not to manage a risk for which the probability of
occurrence is extremely low. It’s not reasonable to leave unmanaged the risk
for which the consequences are “just too awful to think about.”
Why Nonperformance Risks Often Don’t Get Managed
Can-do thinking often replaces risk management when the outcome has been
defined as a challenge. People rise to a challenge; they welcome it. They get
genned up to prove themselves against adversity. The last thing they need is
to spend any of their time planning and provisioning for their own failure.
Time is of the essence, especially when the challenge is to get something done
on a tight schedule. The more the schedule matters, the less time for mitigation planning and the less people are inclined to do it.
This need not be all bad. If the manager and his or her team aren’t going
to do risk management, someone else has to. The best project manager in this
situation is the one who can say, “Look, we’re willing to take on this challenge, this scary delivery date, and we’ll do our best to meet it. We’ll have
no time to manage the risk that we won’t make it in spite of our best efforts,
but somebody better manage that risk. Unless we see that specific plans are
being made for the eventuality of our late delivery, we’re not going to be able
to think of this as a challenge; it’s more of a stupid, desperation crapshoot.”
Middle-level managers and executives are often skilled at characterizing
a desired outcome as a challenge. They pose the challenge as something that
will be a proof of excellence. But in many cases what they’re trying to accomplish is not to goad the team into excellence, but to get team members
to finish the project on the cheap.
Perversely, the more marginal the benefit carried by the project, the more important it is to deliver it cheaply.
It’s no
surprise that cheap delivery to hide lousy benefit is not a great motivator,
so executives in this position might find themselves saying, “This work is
so important that we must have it done by January first.” What they really
mean is, “This work is so unimportant that we don’t want to fund it beyond
January first.”
This is a false challenge, but the team and team leader may not understand
it as such. They may sign on to the aggressive delivery date and do their best
to meet it, shedding all pretense of risk management on the way.
False challenge projects always have the same characteristics: marginal
benefit (since they take on no real technological risk because the organization
is risk-averse), but huge schedule risk that is typically unmanaged. Welcome
to the worst of both worlds.
31 Meetings, Monologues, and Conversations
Some organizations are so addicted to meetings that work has to take
second place. They hold meetings that have little purpose and no
clearly defined end-state. At the other extreme, some organizations are
so fearful of the waste of meetings that they refuse to use the “M” word at all.
This, too, has its downside. The middle is the only safe ground.
Neuro-sclerosis
As organizations age, meeting time increases until—in the final stages—there
is time for nothing else. At least it seems that way. There are reasons why
this happens, often good ones, but the effect can still be so drastically slowing that the competition can be faintly heard rejoicing in the distance. As the
number of vested parties to any action increases, meeting population goes
up. Additionally, meetings give visibility, an essential factor to anyone who
hopes to rise in big-company hierarchy. You don’t get noticed by listening
thoughtfully, so anyone who’s there for visibility is likely to be a talker. The
worst meetings feel like congregations of windbags with nobody listening
and everybody speaking or waiting to speak. Because there are so many who
need to speak, meeting duration increases seemingly without bound.
While everyone deplores the time used up by these meetings, lots of managers excuse them as an unfortunate necessity: necessary because of the
monumental complexity of what the organization is trying to do. The notion
of monumental complexity, of course, confers status on everyone, so once it
has been advanced as justification for the meetings, nobody is very inclined
to offer the alternate possibility: competitive windbagging.
The “Technologically Enhanced” Meeting
Enter technology. While our predecessors had to endure bad meetings without
any means of release, we have our connected laptops. We can open them up
when things get dull,... oops, that might be unwise—better just open them
up at the beginning of each meeting so as not to send a signal when Harry
gets up that all of us are drifting away.
So now, the dull meeting is a chance to deal with the flood of e-mails
waiting in the In-box or maybe to take a quick peek at a few Facebook pages
or to send a text to some other poor bastard who’s trapped here, too, sitting
on the other side of the table. Or, even to do a bit of work...
Now that we’ve noted what the enhancing technology can do for you,
let’s ask the parallel question: What has it done for the meeting? Made it better, right? More effective, more efficient. Get serious. Sure, there may come
a moment in a meeting when some manager suggests, “One of you with an
open laptop, nip out to the Internet to get us some figures about how big this
market sector we’re talking about [at least the one that he’s talking about] is
this year and how it’s projected to grow in the near future.” That can happen.
Just not very often. For every fetch of information that is actually germane to
what the meeting is supposed to be about, there are probably a thousand that
are completely unrelated.
Here’s the rub: The technology that is so evident at meetings today does
not facilitate the meeting at all; it merely provides an escape for people from
the pointlessness of what’s happening around them. What the technology
enhances is the dreadfulness of meetings. Our meetings are worse today than
they were a generation ago, because a generation ago people wouldn’t have
been able to bear them—they would have revolted.
Behavior that we take for granted today would have gotten you fired a
generation ago.
Stand-Up Meetings
A somewhat new wrinkle is the stand-up meeting, typically conducted in
an empty space (no tables or chairs) with all participants on their feet. The
theory is that no one gets too comfortable and so the tendency to prattle on
is reduced. Makes sense to us, but in our cynical view the great benefit of the
stand-up is that nobody has a surface to place a laptop on, so they all stay
closed. Whatever the cause, the meetings tend to be shorter, and that’s a plus.
Even short stand-ups can be a drag on an organization’s effectiveness if
they lack purpose and focus. So what should the purpose and focus of a meeting be? That’s going to depend on what kind of a meeting it is.
Basic Meeting Hygiene
A meeting that is specifically called to get something done might be called a
working meeting. (The others, you might assume, are nonworking meetings.
More about them in the next section.) A working meeting is typically called
to reach a decision. Who should be invited? That’s easy, the people who need
to agree before the decision can be judged made. Nobody else. To make sure
no one is blindsided, it’s essential that the working meeting have an agenda
relevant to its purpose and that it stick to that agenda. Thus, no one risks
anything by not attending because they come to have confidence that offagenda matters won’t be discussed. No one has to attend defensively.
Working meetings have a charming characteristic. You know when they’re
done. When the decision has been reached, there is no further need to meet.
Before it’s been reached, the meeting is not yet complete.
Same idea backwards: If you can say definitively what group action terminates the meeting, then it’s a working meeting. If you can’t, it isn’t.
If you apply this test to the next meeting you attend, you’ll almost certainly conclude it isn’t a working meeting. It isn’t because no result of the
group interaction ends the meeting. What ends the meeting is the clock. It’s
10 A.M., so the meeting is over.
Ceremonies
A meeting that is ended by the clock is a ceremony. Its purpose is not to
get any particular thing decided. It’s all FYI. The FYIing often happens in a
ritualistic manner: quick intro and announcements by a boss, followed by serial one-on-one interactions between the boss and each subordinate. At any
given moment, two people are involved. The others are nominally listening,
with emphasis on the nominally. If they have their laptops open, their focus
is somewhere else.
The ceremony is a series of conversations, and conversations are a good
thing. What’s not such a good thing is all the non-listeners locked in the
room while the conversations take place. Those who believe that meetings
should be replaced with conversations observe that the one-on-ones might
just as well take place somewhere else with all the rest of the participants
released to do real work.
There is occasionally a real need for ceremony in the workplace. A ceremony might be called to celebrate some accomplishment, to lay out a strategic change of direction, or to evaluate a project at its end. All of these
justifiable ceremonies are a bit out of the ordinary. That’s what makes them
justifiable. It’s the regular ceremony that needs to be suspect. An example
of a regular ceremony is the weekly (or daily!) status meeting, with ten or
twenty people locked in a room taking turns talking to the boss.
Too Many People
The attendance of working meetings is limited to the vested-interest participants, the fewer the better. The attendance of ceremonial meetings is not limited at all. Anybody that the person in charge deems desirable is going to be
there, the more the merrier. The importance of the meeting caller is reflected
in the size of the group, so the incentive is to make it large.
The fantasy of “open organization” makes it worse.
My new client, viewed from the outside, looked like a sprightly young technology
start-up, maybe a future generation’s Apple. On the inside, it looked very different. At the meeting where I was introduced, every single manager was present.
I thought they were all there because of me, and was duly flattered. But a succession of meetings over the next few days were the same: all managers present.
One of the things that tended to happen at the meetings (no matter what the
nominal subject was) was for staff to be moved around from project to project.
No managers dared miss a meeting for fear that their people would be pinched.
They excused the over-attendance by explaining proudly that they were an open
organization. The real explanation was defensive participation.
—TDM
This is just basic math, but worth saying: The cost of the meeting is directly proportional to the number attending. One of our clients, an Apple
manager, makes a point of releasing at least one person at the start of each
meeting. She allows the released person a chance to make a quick statement.
She makes it clear that her choice of who gets released is not the person’s
relative uselessness, rather it is the importance of the work he or she will be
doing instead of sitting in. The savings of a single person released are probably not huge, but the message the release sends is hard to miss.
Open-Space Networking
If you’ve ever attended a professional conference or congress, you’ve probably
come to the same conclusion as everyone else: The sessions and paper presentations can be a chore, while the real value of the experience is in the interstices,
the common areas before and after each talk, the coffee breaks, the lunch lines,
drinks and/or dinner with the other attendees. With this in mind, some ingenious person hit upon the idea of “open space.” An Open-Space conference is
essentially all coffee break and lunch. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but
you get the idea. There are no formal sessions; it’s all about networking.
The same idea can be useful in meeting planning. As a new employee of an
organization that is into Open-Space meetings, your experience of it might be
something like this: You get a note from your boss announcing a staff meeting at 9 A.M. on Friday. You show up at 8:30, grab a coffee, and sit down with
one of the new people you’ve just met to pick up on the prior day’s conversation. Someone else joins your conversation and introductions are made. She
is aware of what you’ve been assigned and tells you something of her own
experience in the area.
The boss is now in the room and you wander over to show that you’re
there. He introduces you to a worker from an allied project using the same
hardware you’ve been assigned to. The two of you exchange e-mail addresses
and agree to get together for a working lunch later the same day. You overhear a conversation about something that has always fascinated you and you
edge closer to hear more, wondering if the participants will clam up in the
presence of a stranger. They don’t. They gather you in, make introductions,
and catch you up on what they’d been saying.
It’s now well after 9, but the meeting still hasn’t been called to order. You
head to the buffet table to get another coffee and pause there to chat with
someone from the support team. At last, at 9:20, the boss claps for attention,
and says, “This has been great. Thank you, everyone, for coming. See you
next week—same time, same place.” Then he leaves....
You’ve just had your first Open-Space experience. There was no real meeting, just one big interstice.
Prescription for Curing a Meeting-Addicted Organization
You can’t change the world above you, but you can change your own area
and the lives of the people who work beside and below you. The changes are
easy to describe but hard to effect. Your goal should be to eliminate most
ceremonial meetings and spend the time in one-on-one conversation, to limit
attendance at working meetings and apply the “What ends this meeting?” test
to each one. In place of ceremonies, encourage Open-Space networking to
give people a chance to have unstructured interaction. Most important, curtail
your own need for the confirmation that is provided by ceremonial meetings.
32 The Ultimate Management Sin Is...
The ultimate management sin is wasting people’s time. It sounds like
this should be an easy sin to avoid, but it isn’t. You have some needs
of your own as a manager, and these needs may run squarely against
your intention to preserve and use wisely the time of the people working
under you.
For Instance
You call a meeting with your staff but arrive late yourself (you had to take an
urgent call from your own boss), leaving the others to cool their heels. Or, you
let yourself be called out of the meeting for a quick but important chat with
the client, and the meeting loses focus without you. Or, you call a meeting
and it becomes evident that the meeting itself is a waste of everyone’s time
(except possibly your own, the characteristic of many ceremonial meetings).
When you convoke a meeting with n people present, the normal presumption is that all those in the room are there because they need to interact with
each other in order to come to certain conclusions. When, instead, the participants take turns interacting with one key figure, the expected rationale
for assembling the whole group is missing; the boss might just as well have
interacted separately with each of the subordinates without obliging the others to listen in.
We stated above that it may have been the boss’s need that was being
served, perhaps at the expense of some of the subordinates’ time. But isn’t
this okay? Isn’t this what bosses have to do in order to keep control? Isn’t
this a legitimate cost of managing and coordinating complex efforts? Yes and
no. The meeting wasn’t really necessary to convey status; there are many less
wasteful ways to do that. The need that was being served was not the boss’s
need for information, but for reassurance. The ceremony supplies reassurance.
It establishes for everyone that the boss is boss, that he or she gets to run the
meeting, that attendance is expected, that the hierarchy is being respected.
Status Meetings Are About Status
A real working meeting is called when there is a real reason for all the people
invited to think through some matter together. The purpose of the meeting is
to reach consensus. Such a meeting is, almost by definition, an ad hoc affair.
Ad hoc implies that the meeting is unlikely to be regularly scheduled. Any
regular get-together is therefore somewhat suspect as likely to have a ceremonial purpose rather than a focused goal of consensus. The weekly status meeting is an obvious example. Though its goal may seem to be status reporting,
its real intent is status confirming. And it’s not the status of the work, but the
status of the boss.
When bosses are particularly needy, the burden of ceremonial status meetings can grow almost without bound. We know of one organization, for
example, that runs daily two-hour status meetings. When participants are
off-site during a meeting, they are expected to call in and participate by
speakerphone for the whole duration. Nonattendance is regarded as a threat
and is subject to serious penalties.
Early Overstaffing
Meetings are not the only way that people’s time gets wasted. When staff is
brought on too quickly at the beginning of a project, there is almost always
a waste of people’s time. Again, you might think this is an easy sin to avoid:
Just figure out how quickly the work can absorb new people; then bring them
on, only at that rate. Although this makes perfectly good sense, it is often
politically infeasible.
Projects begin with planning and design, activities that are best carried
out by a smallish team. When design is important (as it is for anything but a
simple formula project), it can require as much as half the full project duration. This suggests an ideal staffing plan that resembles Figure 32–1.
For a two-year project, the bulk of the staff would not come on board
until the project is six months to a year underway. But so what? The staffing plan looks a little unusual, but if that’s what’s called for, why not staff
it just that way?
The problem makes itself apparent when the project is under a time constraint—and what project isn’t? If the client and upper management have
decreed, for example, that only a year is allowed for the work, then that limit
will truncate the expected end of the project (see Figure 32-2).
There is a natural inclination to take the effort lopped off the end and apply it back at the beginning. Voilà, a project with this familiar pattern of early
overstaffing (Figure 32-3).
Of course, if you knew the early added effort would just be wasted, you
wouldn’t do that, would you? Well, perhaps you would. You may conclude
that your chances of finishing on such an aggressive schedule, no matter
how you staff the project, are virtually nil. And if you’re going to finish late
anyway, you’d better consider now whether it will look better or worse for
you not to have added the extra staff that upper management is willing to
furnish early in the project. Even if that early staff allocation turns out to be
Figure 32-1 Looks odd, but may be the ideal.
Figure 32-2 Hurried-up project (aborted staffing).
wasted, your political situation may be safer with all those people on-board
early than if you were to proceed leanly staffed through the first six months.
Such early understaffing—as it’s sure to be viewed by disappointed upper
management—may make you look like a Little Leaguer.
How common is it that projects are overstaffed early for such political
reasons? Oh, not very. Probably no more than 90 percent of all projects suffer
from early overstaffing.
It is a sad comment on the prevailing culture in development organizations
that, in spite of all the talk about “lean and mean,” it is politically unsafe for
a manager to run a project leanly staffed through the key analysis and design
activities.
Fragmentation Again
When people’s time is wasted in unnecessary meetings or by early overstaffing, they’ll know it. They’ll be frustrated and they’ll know why. If there is
enough of such waste, they’ll probably let you know about it, too. So these
problems, though serious, are at least not invisible. There is, however, one
way that people’s time gets wasted that is likely to go unnoticed, and thus
uncorrected. This has to do with the time fragmentation we first mentioned
in Chapter 23, “Teamicide.” The point there was that fragmenting any knowledge worker’s time over many different tasks assures that he or she will be
thrust into two or more different work groups, none of which is likely to jell
into a real team.
Fragmented time is almost certain to be teamicidal, but it also has another
insidious effect: It is guaranteed to waste the individual’s time. A worker with
Figure 32-3 Early overstaffing to accommodate a deadline.
multiple assignments—a little new development, some maintenance of a legacy product, some sales support, and perhaps a bit of end user hand-holding—
will spend a significant part of each day switching gears. This time is largely
invisible. The worker sets aside a design task to field a telephone call, works
with the caller for twenty minutes to offer guidance about reconfiguring a
database on one of the company’s early products, and then turns back to the
design task. If you were standing beside this person with a stopwatch, you
would probably have noted no wasted time at all. The waste is concealed in
the slow restart of his or her design work, the direct result of interrupted flow.
Fragmentation is particularly injurious when two of the tasks involve
qualitatively different kinds of work habits. Thus, the mix of a design task
(which requires lots of immersion time, relative quiet, and quality interaction
time with a small group) with a telephone support task (which requires instant
interruptibility, constant availability, quick change of focus) is sure to make
progress on the more think-intensive of these tasks virtually impossible. The
time wasted continually trying to get restarted is perceived only as frustration
by the worker. You may never hear about it, because the people who suffer
from this problem are all too likely to blame themselves.
Respecting Your Investment
My consulting over these last few decades has, for some reason, required more
and more travel to Europe. I have begun taking the day flights from Boston to
London, as they seem to be less of a trial for my now permanently jet-lagged
body. Unfortunately, most of the other European capitals are served only by night
flights out of Boston. I railed against this until an airline employee patiently
pointed out to me that his company was reluctant to let a giant investment like
a 747 sit on the tarmac for all the extra hours that would be required to connect
an east-west day flight with a west-east day flight. 747s, after all, represent a ton
of money.
—TDM
The human capital invested in your workforce also represents a ton of money.
If your company employs a few thousand knowledge workers, it could easily
have enough invested in them to be the equivalent of a modern wide-body
aircraft. Wasting the time of that huge investment is money poured down the
drain.
33 E(vil) Mail
Yes, your e-mail In-box is full. Very impressive. But what is it full of?
In Days of Yore
Before e-mail, we coordinated distant people by letter. A letter used to
cost a hundred dollars or more in today’s money, to dictate, transcribe,
type, correct, retype, and post. It would take three days to a week to
deliver. Another hundred dollars of effort on the other end to reply and another three days to a week to send it back. Today, we effect the same two-way
communication at a hundredth of the cost and a thousandth of the time. But
are we better off for it? Did we pocket the savings, or did we plow them back
into hundreds of times more coordination?
You know the answer to that. We’re coordinating an order of magnitude
more than we ever did before.
I had a Canadian client named Diane who let drop that she had a two-hour commute in each direction between home and work. I commiserated, but she said it
was no big deal. “This is Canada,” she said, “so we have great wireless service all
along the rail routes. And I have a BlackBerry. So I do my e-mail on the way to
work and on the way home.”
—TDM
Great. That’s four hours a day of e-mail. And that’s if she never looks at
her e-mail at all during work hours. But you know she does.
We’ve become so used to tons of coordinating e-mail that we now take it
for granted. Time to ask the key question: Can this be good?
A family therapist will tell you that when one person in a relationship overfunctions, the others are sure to under-function. When one sibling leaps up to
clear the table and wash the dishes, you’re liable to see the others slipping off
to do something more amusing. Could that be happening in your organization?
When you over-coordinate the people who work for you, they’re all too likely
to under-coordinate their own efforts. But self-coordination and mutual coordination among peers is the hallmark of graceful teamwork. Watch a decent fast
break in basketball or in hockey, and now imagine how it would work if every
pass could only happen if and when the coach gave the signal from the sideline.
A decent coach understands that his or her job is not to coordinate interaction, but to help people learn to self-coordinate. We think that’s the job of
a knowledge-work manager as well. If you buy that idea, most coordinating
e-mail is part of the problem, not part of the solution.
Corporate Spam
After decades of assault by malicious spammers, most organizations have
pretty much figured out how to filter out the dregs and make sure that their
people are only receiving non-spam e-mail from the outside. That’s a great
tribute to the valiant efforts of your network support group. But they haven’t
really solved the spam problem because most of the spam in your In-box
comes from co-workers. Of course, you’re not used to thinking of such messages as spam, but most of them are. Any message that is sent to one person
with copies to half a dozen or more other recipients is candidate spam. The
person it was directed to probably needed to see it, but how about the others?
Were you on the receiving end because some action was required of you, or
were you just included FYI?
An easy test for corporate spam is to apply some secure-organization thinking. When security is key, information is routed on a need-to-know basis.
Imagine going through today’s e-mail onslaught, asking about each and every
arriving message, “Do I need to know this?” How many messages would pass
the test? The ones that don’t are a kind of internal taxation, using up your
time and the time of others. No wonder so many of us are forever wondering
why we go through whole days without actually getting any work done.
What Does “FYI” Even Mean?
The e-mail message that you dutifully read through that didn’t pass the needto-know test was presumably intended For Your Information. But if you
didn’t need to know it, of what value is the information?
What was going on in the mind of the person who added you to the
CC line? There are lots of possibilities, most of them less than totally
admirable:
• “If I don’t send this around, how will anyone know I’m working?”
• “I don’t dare not send this because people will complain if anything
happens that they don’t know about.”
• “This is an open organization, so everybody has to see everything.”
• “I want this widely seen because it shows what a great writer I am.”
All of these are signs of organizational dysfunction. If people don’t dare
send anything out without copying you, that may be a sign of personal dysfunction. What tacit message are you sending them that makes them send
every single message to you?
Is This an Open Organization or a Commune?
The phrase “open organization” has a warm touchy-feely sound to it. It suggests that people are proud of their work and happy to have it seen by others.
We all want to work with people like that. But let’s be reasonable about it:
It’s nice if people allow you to pull information from them about what they’re
doing, but less nice if they push it on you. Less nice still if what they seem to
want to push onto you is everything. Our view is,
Life is short. If you need to know everything in order to do anything, you’re not going to get much done.
Repeal Passive Consent
One of the reasons that organizations are bogged down with everybody plowing through endless numbers of endless e-mails is that there is an unwritten
rule at work. The rule is,
Silence gives consent.
If someone sends you an e-mail that proposes to do some wacky thing and
you don’t object, under this rule you have effectively given your consent. If
you find yourself spending hours each day reading through stuff that is of
no real value to you, chances are it is because you have to worry about your
consent being taken for granted because your name was on the CC line.
To free yourself and everyone else of this drudgery, you need to repeal
the rule. Without knowing the ins and outs of your organization, we can’t
say how you need to go about it. But it’s worth doing. An effective repeal—
establishing that only explicit consent gives consent—could save your organization person-centuries of wasted time.
Building a Spam-less Self-Coordinating Organization
You may not be able to transform your whole company, but you can make
important change in the work modes of people who work with you and under
you. Start by stating in explicit terms that corporate spam is unwelcome. One
of our clients even built an e-mail filter that rejected—with a polite advisory—
e-mail that had his address only in the CC line or that had too many total recipients. He was at the top of the hierarchy, so he didn’t have to worry about
inadvertently insulting anyone above him. The lesson was quickly apparent
to everyone who worked for him. They not only stopped sending him corporate spam but stopped sending it to each other as well.
Do the need-to-know test on your incoming e-mail, but do it, too, on the
messages you send out. Each time you’re inclined to send a coordinating
e-mail to a colleague or to anyone who works for you, think about what steps
you have to make to coach that person to self-coordinate. Don’t expect this to
be easy. Telling someone what to do is easy, while instilling self-coordinating
abilities in that same person is much more complicated. But it pays off in the
long run. If you need to puzzle long and hard over how to make it happen,
remember that’s why you make the big bucks.
34 Making Change Possible
“People hate change...
and that’s because people hate change....
I want to be sure that you get my point.
People really hate change. They really, really do.”
—Steve McMenamin
Principal, The Atlantic Systems Guild
Steve made this statement to an audience of IT managers who were attending the Guild’s 1996 London Conference. More than a little troubled by this view, at first the managers were pretty comfortable with
rejecting it: “Hey, we build systems that change how people work and play.
We try hard to make sure that the changes will be for the better. We explain
how the new way will be better; sometimes, we even use precise geometric
logic. Why would any rational person resist any change for the better?” To
the protesters, Steve retorted, “You don’t get it. I’m sorry, but people really, truly hate change. That’s the problem: They’re not rejecting a particular
change on its merits; they’re rejecting any change. And that’s because people
hate change.” The examples he offered were devastating. Little by little, the
message got through, and the crisis counselors had to be called in.
We need to talk about change because it is our business. More than being
just system builders, we are change agents. Every time we deliver a new system, we are obliging people to change the way they do their work; we might
be redefining their jobs entirely. We are demanding that they change, and
while we’re at it, our own organizations are demanding that we change, too.
The emerging technologies and the building cycle-time pressures are forcing
us to change how we build our products.
And Now, a Few Words from Another Famous Consultant
And it should be considered that nothing is more difficult to handle, more doubtful of success, nor more dangerous to manage, than
to put oneself at the head of introducing new orders. For the introducer has all those who benefit from the old orders as enemies,
and he has lukewarm defenders in all those who might benefit
from the new orders.
—Niccolò Machiavelli (1513)
We tend to think of Machiavelli as a cynic, but he almost certainly fancied
himself a realist. He didn’t set out to cast mankind in the most unflattering
light, only to state the bald truth as he saw it. He wrote The Prince as a primer
for the young Lorenzo de’ Medici, who was ascending to govern the city-state
of Florence. (The de’ Medici family built an enclosed elevated walkway over
the Arno, connecting their castle with the government building, to minimize
the chances for assassination. Look for the walkway when you visit Florence;
it’s still there.) The book’s purpose was to acquaint the young prince with
reality, however pleasant or un-.
“For the introducer has all those who benefit from the old orders as enemies,
and he has lukewarm defenders in all those who might benefit from the new orders.” Notice the equation is unbalanced against change. While you risk making
enemies of those who have mastered the old ways—you are forcing them back
to the uncomfortable position of novice—you receive only minor support from
those who would gain. Why is that? Why are those who stand most to gain
from the change still half-hearted in their support? That’s because people hate
change. When we start out to change, it is never certain that we will succeed.
And the uncertainty is more compelling than the potential for gain.
In years past, I served as Chair of the National Software Methods Conference, held
each spring in Florida. The first year, I made some opening remarks and handed
out a questionnaire for all the participants to complete. I asked all sorts of questions about what methods and tools they used to build software. One question I
asked was, “What method or tool has been seriously introduced in your organization but has failed to become common practice?” I collected the responses, to
report the results back to the attendees by the close of the conference. I started
making a list of failed methods and tools, but stopped when I noticed something
much simpler and clearer: Everything had failed, at least somewhere. The real
irony is that when I did report back, I took the list of failures and asked if anybody
was using those methods or tools regularly. I got a positive response on every
single one. Everything works, and everything fails. What is going on here?
—TRL
That’s a Swell Idea, Boss. I’ll Get Right on It.
Whenever you attempt to instigate a change, you can expect a variety of
responses. Jerry Johnson, one-time director of the Menninger Foundation,
has proposed that there is a pattern to this variety, something he calls the
“Resistance-to-Change Continuum.” It looks like Figure 34–1.
Everyone falls someplace on the continuum in the way he or she will respond to a change.
Looking at the continuum, ask yourself, “Who of these are my potential
enemies, and who are my possible supporters?” Clearly, the Militantly Opposed are dangerous; they will seek to return to the old status quo at any cost.
You might conclude that the Blindly Loyal are good guys and the others are
whiners, that the Blindly Loyal are allies and the other groups are enemies.
Johnson pointed out that this view is all wrong. For example, we need to
be aware of the danger posed by the Blindly Loyal. They are probably fairly
powerless, and they will jump onto whatever appears hot. They follow le fad
du jour: “We gotta stop the accounting package installation right now because
we can do it better ourselves with an intranet-based system using Java Decaf.
Wait. Hold the Decaf. I just saw an ad on the Computing This Nanosecond Web
site for Double-Java Latte with foamy applets.” They will withdraw their support as quickly as they give it in order to hop on some new bandwagon.
Johnson asserts that the Believers But Questioners are the only meaningful
potential allies of any change. The two extremes, Blindly Loyal and Militantly
Opposed, are the real enemies. The success of your change will depend on
how you manage the Believers But Questioners. Don’t count on logic, by the
way, as your trump card: These on-the-fence, maybe-baby allies are never
going to be swayed solely by a rational discussion of why the proposed new
way will be so much better than the current situation. Here is something to
repeat to yourself whenever you set out to ask people to change:
MANTRA: The fundamental response to change is not logical, but
emotional.
Figure 34-1 Resistance-to-Change Continuum.
1. Blindly Loyal (Ask no questions.)
2. Believers but Questioners
a. Skeptics (“Show me.”)
b. Passive Observers (“What’s in it for me?”)
c. Opposed (Fear of Change)
d. Opposed (Fear of Loss of Power)
3. Militantly Opposed (Will Undermine and Destroy)
increasing
resistance
As systems developers, we have selected ourselves into the world of cool,
calming, rational thought. Either our code compiles, or it doesn’t. The compiler is never happy for us, nor mad at us. Perhaps this is why we tend to
apply logic as our main device for resolving disputes.
You may catch yourself patiently explaining to your kid: “I know you
want a bike, but it is neither your birthday nor is it Christmas, the cultural
dates upon which gifts may reasonably be expected. If you have accumulated
sufficient allowance, you may proceed with the purchase yourself.” And you
may be frustrated by a not-very-logical response like, “But I want a bike! I
want it right now.”
When we argue logically for change, one tactic is to contrast how the new
world will be (good) compared to the current situation (bad). But think: Who
helped implement the current situation? Who are the masters of the ways that
we currently work? Could these people possibly take offense at any diminution of the current mode? Damn right they could. William Bridges, in Managing Transitions, suggests that we never demean our old ways. Instead, we
need to celebrate the old as a way to help change happen. For example,
Folks, the CGS Close-in Guidance System has been running
for 14 years. We estimate that it has perfectly handled over
1,000,000 take-offs and landings. The hardware platform has
become technically obsolete, and there is some new remote sensing technology that we can take advantage of. Now we have the
chance to redesign and rebuild the entire system. We need you and
your expertise gained over these years of successful CGS experience to help us succeed in this effort.
It’s worth keeping in mind that any improvement involves change.
You can never improve if you can’t change at all.
—TDM
A Better Model of Change
The way most of us tend to think about change is depicted in Figure 34–2.
In this (naïve) view, an idea, a simple vision of “a better way” to do things,
effects a direct change from the old to the new. “We were perking along in
the old mode when Harvey had a sudden inspiration, and we switched over
to a new and altogether superior way of doing business.” Honestly, it can’t be
that simple. It isn’t. Contrast that naïve model of change with the way an expert in family therapy, the late Virginia Satir, looked at change (Figure 34–3).
Change involves at least the four stages shown in Figure 34–3, never fewer.
There is no chance of effecting meaningful change without going through the
two intermediate stages.
According to Satir’s model, change happens upon the introduction of a
foreign element: a catalyst for change. Without a catalyst, there is no recognition of the desirability of change. The foreign element can be an outside
force or it can be the recognition that your world has somehow changed.
Outside force: A measurement consultant walks into your office
and announces that your company is performing in the lower
quartile of all companies in your industry. Hmmmm.
OR
The world changes: The quarterly sales of your flagship product
drop for the very first time in its history. Owww.
When you try to institute change, the first thing you hit is Chaos. You’ve
been there before. It’s when you are convinced that you are worse off than
before with this new tool, new procedure, or new technique. People are saying things like, “If we just jettison this new stuff, maybe we’ll get back on
schedule....” You are suffering from the dip in the learning curve, and the
assessment that the change is the problem may well be right, at least for the
moment. You are worse off, for now. This is part of the reason why response
to change is so emotional. It is frustrating and embarrassing to abandon approaches and methods you have long since mastered, only to become a novice again. Nobody enjoys that sense of floundering; you just know you would
Old
Status
Quo
New
Status
Quo
A better idea
Figure 34–2 Naïve model of how change happens.
Old
Status
Quo
Chaos
Practice
and
Integration
New
Status
Quo
Foreign
element
Transforming
idea
Figure 34–3 Satir Change Model.
be better off with the old way. Unfortunately, this passage through Chaos is
absolutely necessary, and it can’t be shortcut.
The transforming idea is something that people in Chaos can grab onto
as offering hope that the end of the suffering is near. A structured huddle is
sometimes the best medicine: “I think that we’re getting the hang of E-SOA
authentication, but how about a daily meeting at four o’clock for all of us to
go over our class definitions together?”
The Practice-and-Integration phase occurs on the upswing of the learning
curve. You are not yet completely comfortable as you are not yet proficient
at the new, but you perceive that the new is now beginning to pay off or at
least to show promise.
You have reached the New Status Quo when what you changed to becomes
what you do. An interesting characteristic of human emotion is that the more
painful the Chaos, the greater the perceived value of the New Status Quo—if
you can get there.
The reason the Satir model is so important is that it alerts us that Chaos is
an integral part of change. With the more naïve two-stage model, we don’t
expect Chaos. When it occurs, we mistake it for the New Status Quo. And
since the New Status Quo seems so chaotic, we think, “Whoops, looks like we
blew it; let’s change back.” The change-back message is bound to be heard
loud and clear in the middle of any ambitious change. When you’re looking
for it, your chances of dealing sensibly with it are much improved.
Safety First
Change won’t even get started unless people feel safe—and people feel safe when
they know they will not be demeaned or degraded for proposing a change, or
trying to get through one. Temporary loss of mastery is embarrassing enough
for most of us; catching any kind of gratuitous flack for floundering in Chaos
guarantees that everyone will flee back to the security of the Old Status Quo.
Our natural fear of Chaos may help to explain why learning something as
a child appears so much easier than learning the same thing as an adult.
Watching and listening to adults and children on their first ski trips, we get the
distinct impression that adults are not so much concerned with injuring themselves
as they are with making fools of themselves. Kids almost never have that thought.
They may actually choose to fall down in the snow, to roll in it, to throw it, to eat it.
(Our natural adult response to snow is to shovel it so we won’t slip.) On the slopes,
adults don’t want to fall where they can be seen by those in the chairlift. The anticipated humiliation is enough to keep them in the lodge. But give a healthy kid a
lesson or two with a ski instructor, and it’s, “Look at me, I’m Picabo Street!”
—Tim and Tom, Amateur Behaviorists
How many times have you heard that some new technique is going to
be used because it is the only chance to make the hard-and-fast deadline,
and that if the deadline is missed, there will be hell to pay? The setup of the
change has already made its outcome more than a little dubious. The kid-like
willingness to throw ourselves into a potentially embarrassing endeavor is
defeated by the potential for ridicule.
Paradoxically, change only has a chance of succeeding if failure—at least a
little bit of failure—is also okay.
35 Organizational Learning
Some organizations can learn and some can’t. Some can learn a lesson
in the abstract but can’t change themselves to take advantage of what
they have learned. Some can learn, but the pace of their learning is
offset by the pace of their unlearning. We all understand that the difference
between being among the learning washed, as opposed to among the learning unwashed, is a matter of vital importance, because non-learners cannot expect to prosper for very long without learning, a critical improvement
mechanism.
Experience and Learning
The first thing to realize about organizational learning is that it is not the
same as simple accumulation of experience. By the 1930s, for example, the
French army had accumulated hundreds of years of experience in guarding
the eastern borders, but it still proposed the Maginot Line as a way to hold
back the Germans. That decision and the events of May 1940 proved to the
world that the French had not learned a key lesson about the shifting balance
between armor and mobility.
Similarly, high-tech organizations may accumulate experience at an astonishing rate, but there is no guarantee that their learning will keep track.
One of my clients had a long history of software development, going back more
than forty years. Through much of this period, it kept a thousand or more software developers at work. So, its managers could brag, without exaggeration, that
they had more than forty thousand person-years of software experience. I was
continues continued greatly impressed: Imagine all that learning being brought to bear on each new
project. So I asked a group of them, “When you send a new manager off to run a
new software project, what words of wisdom do you whisper in his or her ear?”
They thought for just a moment and then gave their answer, almost in unison:
“Good luck.”
—TRL
Experience gets turned into learning when an organization alters itself to
take account of what experience has shown. This alteration takes two forms,
which are different enough to talk about separately:
The organization instills new skills and approaches in its people.
OR
The organization redesigns itself to operate in some different
manner.
In the first case, the change is the direct result of added human capital (see
Chapter 20 for more on this). If the retrained people leave, the investment is
lost and the learning is gone. In the second case, the change is temporarily in
the heads of individuals who implement the redesign. Eventually, it becomes
part of the bone-knowledge of the organization, but in the interim it resides
only in the participants’ minds. In this case, loss of key people during the
transition can jeopardize the learning.
In either case, the self-transforming organization has to face up to the following irreducible risk:
Learning is limited by an organization’s ability to keep its people.
When turnover is high, learning is unlikely to stick or can’t take place at
all. In such an organization, attempts to change skills or to introduce redesigned procedures are an exercise in futility. They may even act perversely to
accelerate the rate of employee turnover.
A Redesign Example
Some of the most compelling stories of organizational learning involve redesign of the supplier chain. This requires a confident hand at the helm and
a willingness to think outside of organizational boundaries. Consider the
following example, elaborating on a suggestion first made by Nicholas Negroponte at The Camden Conference on Telecommunications some years ago:
A company like Amazon.com has an integral (and potentially exploitable) link to whatever corporate partner it chooses for delivery of its products to the end consumer. In its current form, the
company may have Federal Express pick up books from one of
its warehouses, and fly them to Memphis (FedEx’s hub city) and
then on to the airport nearest to the consumer. Now suppose that
Amazon were to locate a warehouse in the field beside the FedEx
Memphis airstrip. The sale of each book could still be processed at
Amazon’s Seattle headquarters, but now the pick list and shipping
information could be transmitted digitally to the Memphis warehouse, where the orders would be assembled. Advantage to Amazon: reduction by half of the shipping distance for each order.1
Organizations that can make this kind of change can do it again and again.
You might wonder what it is that allows them to be so agile.
The Key Question About Organizational Learning
The key question about organizational learning is not how it is done but
where. When an organization changes itself as much as Amazon has over
the years, there has to be a small but active learning center that conceives of,
designs, and directs the change. (This kind of ambitious change can’t be invented by a committee or by the organization as a whole.) The locus of early
change activity—the learning—has to be located somewhere on the organization chart. Where?
It’s tempting to say that it happens at the top. But tops of organizations, in
our experience, are not so much focused on day-to-day operations. Presidents
of large- to medium-size companies, for example, may spend most of their
time making acquisitions (or fighting them off).
There is a nice, egalitarian ring to the notion that the learning center might
be at the bottom. But don’t count on this happening in the real world. People
at the bottom are typically too constrained by the organizational boundaries,
and might be blind to important possibilities. In any event, they rarely have
the power to effect change.
If the key learning doesn’t happen at the top and it doesn’t happen at the
bottom, then it has to occur somewhere in the middle. That means the most
natural learning center for most organizations is at the level of that muchmaligned institution, middle management. This squares exactly with our own
observation that successful learning organizations are always characterized
by strong middle management.
It’s worth pointing out that downsizings, when they happen, are almost
always targeted at middle management. In other words, the proverbial “tightening ship” activity that has its vogue every few years is often at the expense
of organizational learning. After such an exercise, an organization’s learning
center may be destroyed.
The Management Team
Flattening the org. chart by gutting middle management is a sure recipe for
decreased learning. But the converse is not necessarily true: Holding on to
middle management doesn’t, by itself, make learning more likely to prosper.
There is another ingredient required for that, one that is seldom evaluated
properly and almost never cultivated. In order for a vital learning center to
form, middle managers must communicate with each other and learn to work
together in effective harmony. This is an extremely rare phenomenon.
Almost all companies have something they call the Management Team,
typically made up of middle-management peers. As we observed earlier, applying the word team to a group doesn’t assure that it will have any of the
characteristics of a team. It may still be a poorly knit collection of individuals
who have no common goals, common values, or blended skills. This is usually
the case with most so-called management teams.
A good helping of the teamicidal effects we noted in Chapters 23 and 24
(“Teamicide” and “Teamicide Revisited”) is at work on “teams” of managers:
Group members are made defensive, burdened by bureaucracy, assigned fragmented tasks, physically separated, pressured to work overtime, and goaded
into competition with each other. With all that going against them, they are
unlikely to merge into a meaningful whole.
To make matters worse, they don’t have the one thing that any team
needs in order to jell: common ownership of the work product. Anything
that gets accomplished in such a group is likely to be the accomplishment
of one of its members, not the group as a whole. The more competitive the
managers are, the more pronounced this effect. We have even encountered
extreme cases in which the rule was: “If something looks good, grab it; if
you can’t grab it, kill it.”
The Management Team is, most often, a sad misnomer, a mockery of the
kind of behavior and attitude that characterizes a healthy team. The members
sit together regularly at status meetings, taking turns talking to the upper
manager. But they have little to do with each other.
Danger in the White Space
The most likely learning center for any sizable organization is the white space
that lies between and among middle managers. If this white space becomes
a vital channel of communication, if middle managers can act together as
the redesigners of the organization, sharing a common stake in the result,
then the benefits of learning are likely to be realized. If, on the other hand,
the white space is empty of communication and common purpose, learning
comes to a standstill. Organizations in which middle managers are isolated,
embattled, and fearful are nonstarters in this respect.
36 The Making of Community
In this chapter, we turn to what great managers do best: the making of
community. A need for community is something that is built right into
the human firmware.
During my school years, my family insisted on moving almost every year, and
I rarely finished a school year in the same town where I had begun it. I had a
complete change of friends, acquaintances, and teachers nearly every year. One
of the few constants in my life was the set of basal readers that were used by the
New England schools in those years; these books were used in every school that I
attended. The text concerned a family that had lived in one town, a place called
Winchester, since the 1770s. Each year, the class studied a subsequent generation
of the family, until by sixth grade we had followed it through the Revolution and
all the way into the early twentieth century. While the characters in that family
are long since forgotten to me, I retain a vivid memory of the town. Winchester
was a place where everyone knew everyone, where people stayed put from generation to generation, where a lost dog or a troubled child was everybody’s concern,
and where you looked out for your neighbors when calamity happened. If I have
any roots at all, I guess they’re in Winchester.
—TDM
If there is something deep inside you that responds to the idea of such a
town, it’s probably because you don’t presently live in one. The lovely little
Winchesters of the world began to change and disappear in the 1920s. Most
of us today live in places that aren’t really communities at all. People don’t
know their neighbors very well, they commute out to work someplace else,
and nobody expects the kids to settle down in the same town. Bedroom communities, in particular, are all bedroom and no community.
But we still have a strong need for community. The complicated truth of
our times is that most of our towns no longer satisfy this need. It is instead
in the workplace that we have our best chance of finding community. If it’s
there to be found...
Digression on Corporate Politics
Community doesn’t just happen on the job. It has to be made. The people who
make it are the unsung heroes of our work experience.
The science of making communities, making them healthy and satisfying
for all, is called politics. We hasten to add that it’s not the shameless shenanigans of corporate infighting that we’re going to address here; those are the
pathologies of politics. What we need to look at instead is “Politics, the Noble
Science,” as first described by Aristotle.
Aristotle included Politics among the five interlinked Noble Sciences that
together make up Philosophy. The five are,
• Metaphysics: the study of existence, the nature of the universe and all
its contents
• Logic: the ways we may know something, the set of permissible conclusions we may draw based on our perceptions, and some sensible
rules of deduction and inference
• Ethics: what we know about man and what we may deduce and infer (through Logic) about acceptable interactions between pairs of
individuals
• Politics: how we may logically extend Ethics to the larger group, the
science of creating and managing such groups consistent with ethical
behavior and logical recognition of the metaphysical entities—humans
and the community made up of humans
• Aesthetics: the appreciation of symbols and images of metaphysical reality, which are pleasing to the extent that they are logically consistent and
that they inform us about ethical interaction and/or political harmony
You may be quite sure that you want no part of office politics of the sleazy
kind, but Aristotelian Politics is something else entirely. Aristotelian Politics
is the key practice of good management. Refusing to be political in the Aristotelian sense is disastrous; it is an abnegation of the manager’s real responsibility. Similarly, senior workers at all levels share some responsibility for
community-building. They are the elders of whatever community does form.
Why It Matters
An organization that succeeds in building a satisfying community tends to
keep its people. When the sense of community is strong enough, no one
wants to leave. The investment made in human capital is thus retained, and
upper management finds itself willing to invest more. When the company
invests more in its people, the people perform better and feel better about
themselves and about their company. This makes them still less likely to move
on. The positive reinforcement here is all to the good.
Of course, even the best sense of on-the-job community doesn’t assure
that you will keep all your people forever. Some will know they have to leave
to advance their own careers or for whatever other reason. However, when
people do leave such an organization, they tend to time their departures to
minimally inconvenience the community. This is an extraordinary boon to
anyone doing project work, since it means that workers are unlikely to leave
during the project. This effect alone, of departing only at project end, is worth
more than all the process improvement your organization is likely to make
over the next decade.
So far, we’ve discussed only the tangible, dollars-and-cents benefits. There
is an intangible at work here, too, one that’s liable to have even more significance to you than all the rest. To consider it, cast your mind forward, just for a
moment, to that day in the distant future, when you are about to cash in your
chips. You’re on your deathbed at the grand old age of, let’s say, a hundred
and one. You’re in no great discomfort, only old. At this age, your thoughts
are all in the past. You’re taking stock. You ask yourself the question, What
really mattered in my life and what didn’t? It’s no great surprise that many
of the concerns that utterly obsessed you all those years ago (for example,
getting that humongous version 27 build of WhizBang v6.1.1 to stabilize)
don’t figure very prominently in your deathbed assessment. No, you’re much
more likely to think about warm family relations, kids and grandkids, the
house and all its memories. Any contribution from your work? Well, sure, it
was nice to be part of the coming-of-age of the Information Era. It was good
to rise to the top of a company, or nearly to the top, to have your chance at
setting directions. That was nice. But don’t forget that you also succeeded at
creating a real community within that company, something that people loved
and respected and gave their allegiance to. Now, that was an accomplishment.
That’s got to figure very prominently in your sense of what you have done
with your life. The pleasure you take from that—like the pleasure that Michelangelo must have felt, mulling over his contributions—need have no very
strong connection to their cash value at the time. This was a creation. This
was Art, you tell yourself, and the person who made it happen was an Artist.
Pulling Off the Magic
Okay, so community is good, so it is an admirable goal to build community in
the workplace. How is it done?
We are not going to presume to set forth a formula for such a complicated
matter. There is no formula. Like any work of art, your success at fostering
community is going to require substantial talent, courage, and creativity. It
will also need an enormous investment of time. The work will not be completed by you alone; at best, you will be the catalyst. The form of your creation will not be very much like anyone else’s.
So, in place of a formula, we offer instead an example, a single example.
The example comes from one of our client companies, a company where one
enterprising manager stepped in and changed the culture forever. This catalytic genius persuaded the organization to build itself around a school. The
school is made up of a day-care and preschool center, plus classes for kindergarteners through fifth graders. The school is for the children of employees.
No doubt you can see the dollars-and-cents rationale for this, the unique
advantage the company gained for hiring programmers and engineers in a
tight market. But you’d have to walk through the company to see what the
school does for community. You’d have to be there for that moment every
afternoon when the teachers lead the entire student body through the whole
facility. They make up a noisy, funny, triumphantly silly parade of little kids
whooping it up and saying hello to everyone. You can hear them coming a
mile away. All work pauses for the procession. There are lots of hugs. When
it’s over, everyone feels great.
Imagine having been the person responsible for that. Imagine having that
to look back at from the age of a hundred and one.
Part VI: It’s Supposed to Be Fun to Work Here 快乐地在这儿工作
Somewhere deep in our ancestral memory is buried the notion that work
is supposed to be onerous. If you enjoy doing something, it isn’t really
work. If you enjoy it enough, it’s probably sinful. You ought not to do it
too much or even at all. You certainly shouldn’t be paid for it. What you really
ought to do is find something else to work at, something that feels like work.
Then you can be bored, tired, and generally miserable like everybody else.
If you’re a manager, this vestigial memory requires you to make sure that
your people never have any fun on the job. Any evidence of pleasure or joy
in the workplace is a sure sign that some manager is not doing the job properly. Work is not being extracted with maximum efficiency from the workers;
otherwise, they wouldn’t be having such a good time.
Of course, nobody ever says outright that work ought not to be fun, but
the idea is there, burned into our cultural subconsciousness. It turns up in
the guilty sheepishness we feel if we’re ever caught giggling in delight at the
task at hand. It surfaces in our reluctant acceptance of the dress code, the
anti-popcorn code, and the general furrowed-brow attitude that distinguishes
so-called professionals from people who are enjoying themselves.
In Part VI, we’ll address the opposite premise, that work should be fun.
37 Chaos and Order
There is something about human nature that makes us the implacable
enemies of chaos. Whenever we encounter chaos, we roll up our sleeves
and go right to work to replace it with order. Man-made order is everywhere... in the home, in the garden, in the way we comb our hair or organize
our streets into neat grids. But it does not follow from this that we’d be happier
if there were no more chaos. On the contrary, we’d be bored to tears. What
chaos is left in modern society is a precious commodity. We have to be careful
to conserve it and keep the greedy few from hogging more than their share.
We managers tend to be the greedy few. We often see chaos as our particular domain. We assume that it’s our job to clean it up, all of it. The Open
Kimono manager has a different approach. He or she is willing to leave small
packets of chaos to others. The manager’s job in this approach is to break it
up and parcel it out. The people down below get to have the real fun of putting things shipshape.
Progress Is Our Most Important Problem
The amount of chaos is ever declining. This is particularly evident in new
technological fields. Those people who were attracted to such areas years
ago by the newness, the lack of order, feel a nostalgic fondness for the days
when everything wasn’t so awfully mechanical. Every great advance of the
past thirty years has had the effect of reducing the craziness of our work. Of
course, those advances were wonderful—we’d never want to go back to the
old days—but still...
We’re all eager to improve our methods and make the business of development a more orderly enterprise. That’s progress. True, some of the crazy fun is
lost in the process, but one person’s fun may be another’s agony (that project
you thought was such a lark probably gave your boss an ulcer). In any event,
progress toward more orderly, controllable methods is an unstoppable trend.
The thoughtful manager doesn’t want to stop the trend, but may nonetheless
feel a need to replace some of the lost disorder that has breathed so much
energy into the work. This leads to a policy of constructive reintroduction of
small amounts of disorder.
Once the idea is stated so baldly, it’s simple enough to compile a list of
ways to implement this policy:
• Pilot projects
• War games
• Brainstorming
• Provocative training experiences
• Training, trips, conferences, celebrations, and retreats
For this list, we’ve limited ourselves to disorder-reintroduction techniques
that we have seen used successfully. Your own list ought not to be so limited.
A short brainstorming session on the subject (more about brainstorming below) will produce wild and wonderful possibilities.
Pilot Projects
A pilot project is one in which you set the fat book of standards aside and
try some new and unproved technique. The new technique will be unfamiliar
initially, and so you can expect to be inefficient at the start in applying it.
This is a cost of change. On the other side of the ledger is the improvement
in productivity gained from using the new technique. Also on the plus side
of the ledger is the Hawthorne Effect, the boost in energy and interest that
infuses your people when they’re doing something new and different.
Are these two pluses likely to outweigh the minus caused by the learning
curve? We’d be foolhardy to suggest that they always would. The nature of
the change introduced matters a lot, as do the length of the project, the capability of the staff members, and the extent to which people believe in the
technique they’re trying out. Our experience is that pilot projects, projects
that try out any modified approach, tend toward higher-than-average net
productivity. That means you’re likely to spend less money on a given project
if you choose to run it as a pilot project with some new technique.
Should all projects therefore be pilot projects? Your organization would
be in good company if it adopted that policy, sharing it with Fujitsu, parts of
the Southern Company, and some divisions of IBM. In any event, it makes far
more sense to run all projects as pilots than to run no projects as pilots.
There are two likely objections to any expanded program of piloting new
techniques:
• Won’t we run out of things to try out?
• Won’t we further complicate the downstream activities (product
support, customer training, and so on) by delivering inconsistent
products?
The first objection makes sense only in the abstract. Most organizations,
after decades of having a policy of testing new ideas rarely if ever, need not
worry too much about running out of things to try. They could begin by trying all the good ideas they ignored during the last decades of the twentieth
century, then moving on to the early twenty-first. By the time they’re through
with all those, another decade will have passed and there will be plenty more
to try out.
As to the problem of inconsistent products passed downstream, you may
as well admit that this is true anyway in even the most standardized shop.
What present-day standardization has achieved is a documentary consistency
among products, but nothing approaching meaningful functional consistency.
In other words, standardization has mainly homogenized the paperwork associated with the products, rather than the products themselves. If the paper
trail left by the project were a little different from standard, the added inconvenience would be small.
One caveat about pilot projects: Don’t experiment with more than one aspect of development technology on any given project. For all the talk about
the importance of standards, it’s surprising how often managers abandon all
standards on the rare project that is designated a pilot. They often try out
new hardware, new software, new quality control procedures, matrix management, and new prototyping techniques, all on the same project.
A sensible approach to pilot projects is that they each be allowed to tinker
with one component of the process. In the healthiest environment, project
personnel would understand that they are encouraged to experiment with
some single new technique on each project, but nonetheless expected to respect standards in other areas.
War Games
From our years of running the Coding War Games, we have learned that
the sometimes raucous, competitive, no-lose experience can be a delightful
source of constructive disorder. Our games are tailored for the software community, but the concept can be applied to virtually any field. Whatever your
work, it can be an enjoyable experience to try your hand at a set of tailored
problems, and to be able to compare your performance to a statistical performance profile of your peers. (Of course, the experience is only enjoyable
as long as the security and confidentiality guarantees described in Chapter 8,
“You Never Get Anything Done around Here between 9 and 5.” are respected
and you are thus assured that the game results won’t be used against you.)
War games help you to evaluate your relative strengths and weaknesses
and help the organization to observe its global strengths and weaknesses. For
these reasons, two of our client companies began a program of annual war
games, used by their employees to gauge improvements in their own skills
over time. Once a year, they subjected themselves to the confidential testing
process, much as you would submit yourself to a physical exam.
For the purpose of stimulating creative disorder, the most effective form
of war game calls for participants to take part in teams. The following is one
formula for such an exercise, a formula that we have tried out with some success (and enormous amusement):
• Select a small development project or well-defined task as a guinea
pig. The best choice is an actual job from your organization, something that requires from one to two person-months of effort. Pick a
problem that has some novelty and challenge, but that nonetheless
makes broad use of your people’s typical working skills.
• Conduct the project in a normal fashion up through publication of a
concrete statement of work.
• Announce a 24-hour Project Tournament to be conducted on an
upcoming weekend. Make sure everybody understands that you’re
not saving money at the expense of their weekend. Explain that the
tournament is run over a weekend so the teams can have the place to
themselves, not so you can save on manpower cost. Encourage people
to form teams of four each and compete on a totally voluntary basis.
• Distribute the statement of work in advance, along with a statement of
rules and objectives.
• On the day of the Tournament, only participants are present. Supply
everything they need (food, machines, cots, copiers, conference rooms,
whatever). Have all of the teams undertake the same work in head-tohead competition with each other.
• Have facilitators available to enforce the ground rules, ready to head off
fatal problems and to make lots of noise over every milestone attained.
• Look for opportunities to make everyone a winner in some sense
(elapsed-time winners, robust-product winners, clever-solution winners). Make a big fuss over any and all accomplishments.
• Install the winning product, or perhaps several winning products in parallel. Keep careful track over time of product stability, number of defects,
level of user acceptance, cost to change, and whatever other parameters
affect project success. Report meaningful data back to the teams.
When you pull this off successfully, people will tell you they’ve had the
most exciting and enjoyable experience of their entire careers; nothing less
than that is your goal. Expect to achieve that goal, though it may take a
few tries.
Some things to keep in mind about experiences like the Project Tournament:
First, these affairs cost money. Don’t go into them hoping to gull your staff into
building something on a Saturday that you would otherwise have to pay real
wages for. Expect to spend several times more on a Project Tournament than
you would on a conventional running of the same project. Second, invest a lot
of time in making the problem specification particularly solid, bringing your facilitators up to speed, and building in lots of milestones and checkpoints. Third,
invest some effort to assure the project’s scope is about the right size for the
amount of time allocated (no one has any fun if all the teams are defeated or if
the tournament is finished an hour after it begins). Finally, look for opportunities to spend money generously on meals (in one tournament, we ordered lovely
picnic lunches catered by a New York City restaurant, had dinner delivered, and
dragged everybody off to Chinatown for 2 A.M. snacks).
Running the project through a whole night, for some reason, adds to the
fun. People love an excuse to get tired together, to push back sleep and let their
peers see them with their hair down, unshaved, rumpled, and grumpy, with no
makeup or pretense. And it makes them feel more closely bound to each other:
During the event, I noticed [one of the participants] catching a
catnap on the rug in the reception area. I’d known her for years
before that and always thought her a bit stiff. But from that point
on, I felt differently about her. I felt differently about all of them.
We’d been through it together.
—from a Project Tournament postmortem
Brainstorming
Brainstorming is a structured interactive session, specifically targeted on creative insight. Up to half a dozen people get together to focus on a relevant
problem. The rules of the session and the ploys used by the person in charge
help to make it an enjoyable and disorderly experience, and often a truly
rewarding one.
There aren’t many rules. Since you’re trying to introduce chaos into the
thought process, rules don’t have much of a place. As facilitator, you want to
impress on everyone to strive for quantity of ideas, not quality, and to keep
the proceedings loose, even silly. Sometimes an apparently foolish idea, one
that wouldn’t even be mentioned in a more formal session, can turn out to be
the prize. There is no evaluation of proposed ideas during the brainstorming.
The evaluation phase comes later. Discourage negative comments, like “That’s
a dumb idea,” since dumb ideas often lead others to think of smart ideas.
As facilitator, try these ploys to restart participants’ thinking when the idea
flow slows down:
• Analogy thinking (How does nature solve this or some similar
problem?)
• Inversion (How might we achieve the opposite of our goal?)
• Immersion (How might you project yourself into the problem?)
Training, Trips, Conferences,
Celebrations, and Retreats
Perhaps this is a sad comment on the dismal corporate workplace, but everybody relishes a chance to get out of the office. The chance that workers
relish most is one combining travel with their peers and a one-of-a-kind experience. It might be going off together for a training session, particularly a
provocative one, or taking in the International Conference On Whatever. All
the better if the travel is to someplace exotic. You can send your people from
Boston to a conference in London for about the same cost as sending them to
a conference in St. Louis or Chula Vista.
Particularly when a team is forming, it makes good business sense to fight
for travel money to get team members out of the office together. If there is a
remote client site, ship them off all-expenses-paid to check out that territory.
When there is a thought-intensive deliverable due, put them into a conference
CHAPTER 37 CHAOS AND ORDER
29
center or hotel. Give them the chance to fly together, eat out together, and
work out their roles in the new team.
The Outward Bound schools make a thriving business of taking corporate
groups into the wilderness and testing their mettle. Groups must make their
way over Burma bridges and chutes, survive the waters of Penobscot Bay,
or scale the face of Mount Katahdin. One day you’re struggling with Supply
Chain Management, and the next, you’re hanging by your fingernails while a
teammate belays you a line. Of course, the experience isn’t cheap. By the time
you count the cost of the school, travel, and lost days, it comes to at least
several thousand dollars per person. In most companies, such an expense
would be unthinkable. But what about the others, the ones who do invest in
Outward Bound and the like? Are they missing something that is obvious to
all the reasonable folks in the world? Or are they pushing the envelope to
bring out the best in their people?
Is a few thousand dollars for a getaway experience too rich for your discretionary disorder budget? Maybe you could spring for a hundred dollars.
One of the most innovative managers we’ve known had a penchant for putting on unexpected lunches for his staff. He once went down to the city street
and hired a hot dog vendor—complete with cart, sauerkraut, yellow mustard,
and a blue and orange umbrella—to take the elevator up thirty floors and
serve lunch to the team. The lunch was a nutritionist’s nightmare but a sociologist’s dream come true. Those who were there got high on good spirits and
began to do bits and skits about their work, their managers, and each other.
The noise level went up with their enthusiasm. It cost maybe a hundred dollars and has been talked about ever since. Of course, that manager wrote it up
as a business lunch, but it wasn’t a lunch at all, it was a celebration.
There can be no question that good sense and order are desirable components of our workday. There’s also a place for adventure, silliness, and small
amounts of constructive disorder.
38 Free Electrons
In our grandparents’ generation,
work was usually structured rigidly within a corporate context:
You worked for a company, and you punched a clock or kept regular hours.
You received a paycheck, same this week as last.
Those above you in the hierarchy were treated with respect and deference:
“Of course, sir. I’ll get cracking on that right away, sir.”
It didn’t seem like a life’s work you were embarked upon—it seemed more like a job.
But things have changed.
One of my college roommates arranged a get-together of members of our graduating class.
Of the twenty people who showed up that night, only one turned out to have a “job” in the normal sense of that word.
All the others were selfemployed or freelancing or contracting their services or working in some other
nontraditional mode.
—TDM
The Cottage-Industry Phenomenon
It’s hardly hot news these days that lots of our peers are working as cottageindustry entrepreneurs.
They contract their time by the day, week, or even
years for programming or design work or, sometimes, management.
There are agencies that specialize in connecting these independents with organizations that need their talents.
Some of the most staid companies and institutions find themselves doing
business with independents. They might prefer to hire their own people rather
than deal with contractors and freelancers, but what can they do?
It’s always a seller’s market for expert services. They end up doing business with dozens
of little organizations with names like William Alonzo & Associates (there are
no associates, just Bill) or the Fat City Smarts Company. Some of the folks
they have to work with are positively flaky: They want to work when they
want to work, perhaps doing one project and then taking off two or three
months to go skiing. Erghhh! How unprofessional.
If you’re a Captain of Industry, the cottage-industry phenomenon can be
more than a little upsetting. Not only are the entrepreneurs inclined to be
uppity, they are a terrible example to your employees. They’ve got more freedom, more time off, more choice of work. They’re having more fun. They
often make more money.
Fellows, Gurus, and Intrapreneurs
Organizations are under increasing pressure to offer attractive in-house alternatives to their best people lest they become part of the cottage-industry phenomenon.
One such alternative is a position with loosely stated responsibilities so that the individual has a strong say in defining the work.
The charter might read, “Investigate new methods for the twenty-first century,”
or “Put together a new and exciting training sequence,” or “Design an ideal workstation complex for developers.”
In extreme cases, the charter is a blank check;
if your corporation is fortunate enough to have a self-motivated super-achiever on board, it’s enough
to say, “Define your own job.”
Our colleague Steve McMenamin characterizes
these workers as “free electrons,” since they have a strong role in choosing their own orbits.
The trend to create an increasing number of free electron positions is more
than just a response to the threat of the cottage industry.
The reason there are so many gurus and fellows and intrapreneurs and internal consultants in
healthy modern companies is quite simply that companies profit from them.
The people in these positions contribute disproportionately to the organizations that employ them.
They are motivated to make the positions created for them pay off for their companies.
Read what various of our colleagues had to
say about consultancy jobs they held within healthy companies near the apex of their corporate careers:
Where I go and what I do are things pretty much defined by myself.
Management recognized that the company needed someone looking into all the directions we weren’t currently following,
hence my unstructured charter.
It puts me into the import business, constantly on the lookout for new ways the technology could help us.
The position makes me more loyal to the company,
but less loyal to my old profession of information science—a good idea is welcome wherever it comes from.
I define my success based on the value it brings the company. It’s almost as though the company were my own.
There are lots of people who have, someplace in their closets, an intrapreneurial hat.
You’ve just got to find out who they are and get them to wear it.
—Michael L. Mushet
Manager of Technology Research, Southern California Edison
I’ve had a number of different positions in my years with the company,
but only one of them had existed before I came along.
I’ve been able to define my position, to a large degree, ever since. There
is always someone in an organization that’s willing to sponsor
meaningful work in a new area, at least up to a point. Where it
works best, upper management has bought into a person, rather than into a concept.
The person then defines and sells the concept.
Everyone ought to have some responsibility for broad area goals,
and some freedom to pursue them.
—Richard Branton Manager, DAIS, Southern Company Services, Inc.
It works when people are self-motivated, and when they let reality dictate their directions to some extent.
I’m constantly being dragged back into reality because the interests of the company dictate it.
A lot of pure research is dead end.
It’s important to keep yourself focused on applied technology,
because that can always be made useful to the organization.
The whole idea of a loose charter can backfire, too, as it has at Xerox.
Some of the best people there
got to feel that the company was never going to use the good ideas
they were coming up with [at PARC], and so they left.”
—Bill Bonham
Fellow, MicroSage Computer Systems, Inc.
No Parental Guidance
In Soviet society, particularly among Communist Party members, there was
a pervasive system of life counseling. Virtually every member was assigned
a counselor, someone to meet with on a weekly basis to help make life
decisions, to iron out marriage and career problems, and to keep the political
outlook in line. The counselor served in loco parentis.
To Westerners, this all seems terribly intrusive. We feel that the individual
needs to be left alone to work out such matters,
or at least free to seek guidance if and when and from whomever he or she chooses.
But much of this fine individualism evaporates in the workplace.
There, we accept the wisdom
that virtually everyone needs a firm direction, handed down from above. Most
people do—they welcome a clear statement from the boss of just what specific
targets are to be met in order to be considered a success. Most people need a
well-defined charter, but managing the ones who don’t is another matter.
The mark of the best manager is an ability to single out the few key spirits
who have the proper mix of perspective and maturity and then turn them
loose. Such a manager knows that he or she really can’t give direction to these
natural free electrons. They have progressed to the point where their own
direction is more unerringly in the best interest of the organization than any
direction that might come down from above. It’s time to get out of their way.
39 Holgar Dansk
We have put this book together as a series of essays on the various
ways that companies and projects go right and wrong. If we’re
on target, you should have been able to see your own situation
reflected in at least a few of the essays. Each chapter, even the gloomiest, has
had some prescriptive advice, something that you could do to begin the sensible reconstruction of a project, a division, or a whole organization. Of course,
these prescriptions are inadequate, but they are a start. They encourage you
to take on the Furniture Police, fight corporate entropy, defeat teamicidal tendencies, put more quality into the product (even if time doesn’t permit), repeal
Parkinson’s Law, loosen up formal Methodologies, raise your E-Factor, open
your kimono, and do a host of other things.
It doesn’t take great prescience to see that one of these measures is all
you’re likely to pull off successfully. If you try more, you will just diffuse
your efforts. The rumpus you’ll raise will be more confusing than constructive, and your colleagues and those above you in the corporate hierarchy
are likely to write you off as a whiner. One change is plenty. Even a single
substantive change to the sociology of your organization will be a mammoth
accomplishment.
But Why Me?
Making that single change is a tall order for one person. If you’ve got second
thoughts about throwing yourself into the fray, it’s only natural. Who are
you, after all, to confront the kind of power group that springs up around the
new Methodology or around the space and services being planned for the new
office? Are you really strong enough?
Some years ago, there was a famous toreador who used the name El Cordobes. He was a charismatic fellow, and both his personal and professional
lives were followed in the world press. In one interview, a reporter asked El
Cordobes what regular exercises he did to stay fit enough for the ardors of
bullfighting:
“Exercises?”
“Yes. You know, jogging or weight lifting, to maintain your physical condition.”
“There is something you don’t understand, my friend. I don’t wrestle the bull.”
The key to success in fostering the kind of change we’re advocating is that
you not try to wrestle the bull. You’re certainly not strong enough for that.
A single person acting alone is not likely to effect any meaningful change.
But there’s no need to act alone. When something is terribly out of kilter (like
too much noise in the workplace), it takes very little to raise people’s consciousness of it. Then it’s no longer just you. It’s everyone.
The Sleeping Giant
Just north of the Danish city of Copenhagen is the castle Kronborg. For the
price of a few kroner, you can visit the castle casements and see there the
reclining form of Holgar Dansk, the legendary sleeping giant of Denmark. He
sleeps quietly while the country is at peace, but if ever Denmark should be in
danger, Holgar will awake, and then his wrath will be terrible to see. Whole
classes of Danish school children tiptoe down to see his 14-foot recumbent
form. His shield and sword are there beside him, his armor ready to go. The
children talk in whispers—nobody is too eager to see this giant in action, but
they are happy he is on their side.
There may be a sleeping giant inside your own organization, ready to
awaken when it is in danger. It is in danger if there is too much entropy, too
little common sense. The giant is the body of your co-workers and subordinates, rational men and women whose patience is nearly exhausted. Whether
they are great organizational thinkers or not, they know Silly when they see
it. And some of the things that do most harm to the environment and sociology of the workplace are downright silly.
Waking Up Holgar
It doesn’t take much to wake up the giant. If the silliness is gross enough,
people need no more than a gentle catalyst. It may be one small voice saying,
“This is unacceptable.” People know it’s true. Once it’s been said out loud,
they can’t ignore it any longer.
That may seem idealistic, but if you do wake up a sleeping giant in your
company, you won’t be the first:
• An entire department of a large government agency has stuffed the
bells in its old-fashioned telephones with tissues. There is no loud
ringing now—only a gentle purr of clicks (or is it the quiet voice of
Holgar Dansk?).
• A California computer company has had a rash of guerrilla attacks
against the paging system in the programmer area. The wires keep getting cut. Because the programmers are seated in what used to be an assembly bay, the ceilings (and the paging-system speakers) are 16 feet up
in the air. Who can even reach so high? Perhaps it was Holgar Dansk.
• The manager of a large project in Minneapolis has refused to move his
people to the new quarters. (“New” in this case just meant smaller and
noisier.) Administrators were simply stunned at his refusal; they had
never considered the possibility. Working people are supposed to do as
they’re told. The manager had a different theory, that working people
are supposed to do work. He had assembled enough evidence about the
new environment to convince himself that they couldn’t do that in the
new workplace. So the proper function of the manager was to say no.
If he had been all alone in taking this stand, it would have been easy
to overrule him. But he wasn’t alone. He had Holgar Dansk on his side.
• An Australian company doesn’t form teams anymore but allows individuals to form their own. In that company, you join voluntarily with
two of your colleagues and the company assigns the team as a unit. It
might never have happened but for a little pressure from Holgar Dansk.
If you’ve smiled ruefully at any of the characterizations in this book, it’s
time now to stop smiling and start taking corrective action. Sociology matters
more than technology or even money. It’s supposed to be productive, satisfying fun to work. If it isn’t, then there’s nothing else worth concentrating on.
Choose your terrain carefully, assemble your facts, and speak up. You can
make a difference... with a little help from Holgar Dansk.
Part I: Managing the human resource
1. Somewhere Today, a Project Is Failing
The major problems of our work are not so much technological as sociological in nature.
我们工作的主要问题与其说是技术问题,不如说是社会学问题。
The main reason we tend to focus on the technical rather than the human side of the work is not because it’s more crucial, but because it’s easier to do. (…) If you find yourself concentrating on the technology rather than the sociology, you’re like the vaudeville character who loses his keys on a dark street and looks for them on the adjacent street because, as he explains, “The light is better there.”
我们倾向于关注工作的技术方面而不是人性方面的主要原因不是因为它更关键,而是因为它更容易做到。如果你发现自己专注于技术而不是社会学,你就像一个杂耍角色,他在黑暗的街道上丢失了钥匙,并在相邻的街道上寻找钥匙,因为正如他所解释的那样,“那里的光线更好。
Projects fail because of “social” reasons.
由于“社会”原因,项目失败。
2. Make a Cheeseburger, Sell a Cheeseburger 芝士汉堡
Speaking to a group of software managers, we introduced a strategy for what we think of as iterative design. The idea is that some designs are intrinsically defect-prone; they ought to be rejected, not repaired. Such dead ends should be expected in the design activity. The lost effort of the dead end is a small price to pay for a clean, fresh start. (…) Fostering an atmosphere that doesn’t allow for error simply makes people defensive.
在与一群软件经理的交谈中,我们介绍了一种我们认为是迭代设计的策略。这个想法是,有些设计本质上是容易缺陷的;它们应该被拒绝,而不是修复。在设计活动中应该预料到这样的死胡同。死胡同的付出的努力是为一个干净的、新的开始付出的小代价。(...)营造一种不允许犯错的氛围只会使人们产生防御性。
We spent far too much of our time trying to get things done and not nearly enough time asking the key question, “Ought this thing to be done at all?”
我们花了太多时间试图把事情做好,而没有足够的时间问一个关键问题,“这件事到底应该做吗?
Producing software is not like most productions system at all.
生产软件完全不像大多数生产系统。
3. Vienna Waits for You
Productivity ought to mean achieving more in an hour of work, but all too often it has come to mean extracting more for an hour of pay. There is a large difference.
生产力应该意味着在一小时内取得更多成就,但很多时候,它意味着为了一小时的工资而获得更多。有很大的区别。
Trying to get people to sprint too much can only result in loss of respect for the manager.
试图让人们过度冲刺只会导致对经理失去尊重。
Workaholic project members put in endless unpaid overtime hours to push productivity to unheard of levels. At the end of the project, virtually the entire development staff quit. What was the cost of that? No one even figured it into the equation.
工作狂项目成员投入了无休止的无偿加班时间,将生产力提高到闻所未闻的水平。在项目结束时,几乎所有的开发人员都辞职了。这样做的代价是多少?甚至没有人把它纳入等式。
People under time pressure don’t work better—they just work faster.
在时间压力下,人们不会工作得更好,他们只是工作得更快。
If you want a healthy project, pursue a healthy work-life balance.
如果您想要一个健康的项目,请追求健康的工作与生活的平衡。
4. Quality — If Time Permits
There may be many and varied causes of emotional reaction in one’s personal life, but in the workplace, the major arouser of emotions is threatened self-esteem.
在个人生活中,情绪反应的原因可能有很多,但在工作场所,情绪的主要唤起因素是自尊受到威胁。
We all tend to tie our self-esteem strongly to the quality of the product we produce—not the quantity of product, but the quality.
我们都倾向于将自尊心与我们生产的产品的质量紧密联系在一起——不是产品的数量,而是质量。
The builders’ view of quality (…) tend to impose quality standards of their own. The minimum that will satisfy them is more or less the best quality they have achieved in the past. This is invariably a higher standard than what the market requires and is willing to pay for.
建筑商对质量的看法(...)倾向于强加自己的质量标准。满足他们的最低要求或多或少是他们过去取得的最佳质量。这总是比市场要求和愿意支付的标准更高。
[Software] industry has accustomed its clients to accept in-house-developed application programs with an average defect density of one to three defects per hundred lines of code!
[软件]行业已经习惯于接受内部开发的应用程序,平均缺陷密度为每百行代码一到三个缺陷!
Allowing the standard of quality to be set by the buyer, rather than the builder, is what we call the flight from excellence.
允许质量标准由买方而不是建筑商设定,这就是我们所说的“远离卓越”。
In the long run, market-based quality costs more. The lesson here is: Quality, far beyond that required by the end user, is a means to higher productivity.
从长远来看,基于市场的质量成本更高。这里的教训是:质量远远超出最终用户的要求,是提高生产力的一种手段。
“The trade-off between price and quality does not exist in Japan. Rather, the idea that high quality brings on cost reduction is widely accepted.”
“在日本,价格和质量之间的权衡是不存在的。相反,高质量带来成本降低的想法被广泛接受。
Strive for quality!
精益求精!
5. Parkinson’s Law Revisited 重新审视帕金森定律
Work expands to fill the time allocated for it - Parkinson’s Law
工作扩大以填补分配给它的时间 - 帕金森定律
Parkinson was not a scientist. He collected no data; he probably didn’t even understand the rules of statistical inference. Parkinson was a humorist. His “law” didn’t catch on because it was so true. It caught on because it was funny.
帕金森不是科学家。他没有收集任何数据;他可能甚至不了解统计推断的规则。帕金森是个幽默家。他的“律法”没有流行起来,因为它是如此真实。它之所以流行,是因为它很有趣。
Parkinson’s Law almost certainly doesn’t apply to your people.
帕金森定律几乎肯定不适用于您的员工。
Bad estimates, hopelessly tight estimates, sap the builders’ energy.
糟糕的估计,无可救药的严格估计,消耗了建筑商的精力。
These projects [which no estimates were prepared at all] far outperformed all the others.”
这些项目(根本没有进行任何估算)的表现远远优于所有其他项目。
Estimations (because of the time pressure that they impose) are most of the times harmful for productivity.
大多数时候,估算(因为它们施加的时间压力)对生产力有害。
6. Laetrile 扁桃腈
The manager’s function is not to make people work, but to make it possible for people to work.
经理的职能不是让人们工作,而是让人们有可能工作。
There’s no silver bullet. Focus on effective ways of handling people, modifying the workplace and corporate culture…
没有灵丹妙药。注重有效的人事方式,改变工作场所和企业文化......
Part II: The Office Environment
7. The Furniture Police
Intellectual work is not taken into consideration when offices are set up.
在设立办事处时,不考虑智力工作。
8. “You Never Get Anything Done around Here between 9 and 5.”
Many companies provide developers with a workplace that is so crowded, noisy, and interruptive as to fill their days with frustration.
许多公司为开发人员提供的工作场所非常拥挤、嘈杂和干扰,以至于他们每天都充满挫败感。
The data presented above does not exactly prove that a better workplace will help people to perform better. It may only indicate that people who perform better tend to gravitate toward organizations that provide a better workplace.
上面提供的数据并不能完全证明更好的工作场所会帮助人们表现得更好。这可能只表明表现更好的人倾向于提供更好工作场所的组织。
Think about your workplace beyond defaults.
想想你的工作场所,超越默认。
9. Saving Money on Space 节省空间费用
When a worker complains about noise, he’s telling you he doesn’t fit into either of those fortunate subsets. He’s telling you that he is likely to be defect-prone.
当一个工人抱怨噪音时,他告诉你他不适合这些幸运的子集。他告诉你,他很可能有缺陷。
A quiet environment is likely to be more cost-effective than any other measure that you tackle for productivity gains.
安静的环境可能比您为提高生产力而采取的任何其他措施更具成本效益。
Intermezzo: Productivity Measurement and Unidentified Flying Objects
间奏曲:生产力测量和不明飞行物
Having some metrics is always better that not having any measurement at all.
有一些指标总是比没有任何衡量标准要好。
Keep individual metrics private.
将单个指标保持私密。
10. Brain Time versus Body Time
Not all work roles require that you attain a state of flow in order to be productive, but for anyone involved in engineering, design, development, writing, or like tasks, flow is a must.
并非所有工作角色都要求你达到心流状态才能提高工作效率,但对于任何参与工程、设计、开发、写作或类似任务的人来说,心流是必须的。
What matters is not the amount of time you’re present, but the amount of time that you’re working at full potential.
重要的不是你在场的时间,而是你充分发挥潜力的时间。
By regularly noting uninterrupted hours, you are giving official sanction to the notion that people ought to have at least some interrupt-free time. That makes it permissible to hide out, to ignore the phone, or to close the door (if, sigh, there is a door).
通过定期记录不间断的时间,您正式认可了人们应该至少有一些不受干扰的时间的观念。这使得躲在外面,无视电话或关上门(如果,叹气,有一扇门)是允许的。
11. The Telephone
Managers ought to be alert to the effect that interruption can have on their own people who are trying to get something done.
管理者应该警惕中断可能对试图完成某事的自己员工产生的影响。
People who are charged with getting work done must have some peace and quiet to do it in. That means periods of total freedom from interruptions. When they want to work in flow, they have to have some efficient, acceptable way of ignoring incoming calls. “Acceptable” means the corporate culture realizes that people may sometimes choose to be unavailable for interruption by phone. “Efficient” means that they don’t have to wait out the bell in order to get back to work.
负责完成工作的人必须有一些平静和安静来完成工作。这意味着完全不受干扰的时期。当他们想在流程中工作时,他们必须有一些有效、可接受的方式来忽略来电。“可接受”意味着企业文化意识到,人们有时可能会选择不被电话打断。“高效”意味着他们不必等待铃声响起才能重新开始工作。
The big difference between a phone call and an electronic mail message is that the phone call interrupts and the e-mail does not; (…) Priority “at the receiver’s convenience” is acceptable for the great majority of business communications.
电话呼叫和电子邮件之间的最大区别在于,电话呼叫会中断,而电子邮件不会;(...)对于绝大多数商业通信来说,“在接收方方便时”的优先权是可以接受的。
To the extent that knowledge workers are required to multitask, their managers need to take account of the flow requirements of the different tasks. Mixing flow and highly interruptive activities is a recipe for nothing but frustration.
在某种程度上,知识工作者需要同时处理多项任务,他们的管理者需要考虑不同任务的流程要求。混合流动和高度中断的活动只会带来挫败感。
s/phone/Slack
Keep in mind that this involves changes in habits and attitudes.
请记住,这涉及习惯和态度的改变。
12. Bring Back the Door 带回门
The most obvious symbol of success is the door. When there are sufficient doors, workers can control noise and interruptibility to suit their changing needs. The most obvious symbol of failure is the paging system. Organizations that regularly interrupt everyone to locate one person are showing themselves to be totally insensitive to the imperatives of a work-conducive environment.
成功的最明显标志是门。当有足够的门时,工人可以控制噪音和可中断性,以满足他们不断变化的需求。最明显的失败标志是寻呼系统。那些经常打断每个人以找到一个人的组织表明,他们对有利于工作的环境的要求完全不敏感。
We should be proactive seeking a better workplace.
我们应该积极主动地寻求更好的工作场所。
Appearance is stressed far too much in workplace design. What is more relevant is whether the workplace lets you work or inhibits you.
在工作场所设计中,外观被强调得太多了。更重要的,是职场是让你工作还是抑制你。
Many of the everyday tasks performed by professional workers are done in the serial processing center of the left brain. Music will not interfere particularly with this work, since it’s the brain’s holistic right side that digests music. But not all of the work is centered in the left brain. There is that occasional breakthrough that makes you say “Ahah!” and steers you toward an ingenious bypass that may save months or years of work. The creative leap involves right-brain function. If the right brain is busy listening to “1,001 Strings” on Muzak, the opportunity for a creative leap is lost.
许多由专业工人执行的日常任务都是在左脑的串行处理中心完成的。音乐不会特别干扰这项工作,因为消化音乐的是大脑的整体右侧。但并非所有的工作都集中在左脑。偶尔会有突破,让你说“啊哈!”,并引导你走向一个巧妙的旁路,可以节省数月或数年的工作。创造性的飞跃涉及右脑功能。如果右脑忙于听穆扎克的“1,001 Strings”,那么创造性飞跃的机会就失去了。
You don’t need to go for 1-person offices. Instead of open spaces you can arrange small 2-3 people offices, enabling natural, easy interactions.
你不需要去1人办公室。您可以安排 2-3 人的小型办公室,而不是开放空间,从而实现自然、轻松的互动。
Management, at its best, should make sure there is enough space, enough quiet, and enough ways to ensure privacy so that people can create their own sensible work space. Uniformity has no place in this view.
在最好的情况下,管理层应该确保有足够的空间、足够的安静和足够的方法来确保隐私,以便人们可以创造自己的合理工作空间。在这种观点中,统一性没有立足之地。
13. Taking Umbrella Steps 采取伞形步骤
Most monolithic corporate space can only be understood in terms of its symbolic value to the executives who caused it to be built. (…) The master plan is an attempt to impose totalitarian order. A single and therefore uniform vision governs the whole.
大多数整体式企业空间只能从其对促成它的高管的象征价值来理解。(...)总体规划是试图强加极权主义秩序。一个单一的、因此统一的愿景支配着整体。
In place of the master plan, Alexander proposes a meta-plan. It is a philosophy by which a facility can grow in an evolutionary fashion to achieve the needs of its occupants. The meta-plan has three parts:
亚历山大提出了一个元计划,而不是总体规划。这是一种理念,通过这种理念,设施可以以渐进的方式发展,以满足其居住者的需求。元计划由三个部分组成:
- A philosophy of piecemeal growth
- A set of patterns or shared design principles governing growth
- Local control of design by those who will occupy the space
- 零碎增长的哲学
- 一组控制增长的模式或共享设计原则
- 由将占用空间的人对设计进行本地控制
The First Pattern: Tailored Work Space from a Kit. (…) Today’s modular cubicle is a masterpiece of compromise: It gives you no meaningful privacy and yet still manages to make you feel isolated.
第一种模式:从套件中定制工作空间。(...)今天的模块化隔间是妥协的杰作:它没有给你任何有意义的隐私,但仍然设法让你感到孤立。
Groups of people who have been assigned or have elected to work together need to have a meaningful role in the design of their own space.
被指派或选择一起工作的人群需要在他们自己的空间设计中发挥有意义的作用。
The Second Pattern: Windows. (…) If buildings are constructed in a fairly narrow shape, there need be no shortage of windows.
第二种模式:Windows。(...)如果建筑物的形状相当狭窄,则不必缺少窗户。
The Third Pattern: Indoor and Outdoor Space. (…) If you’ve ever had the opportunity to work in space that had an outdoor component, it’s hard to imagine ever again limiting yourself to working entirely indoors.
第三种模式:室内外空间。(...)如果您曾经有机会在具有户外组件的空间中工作,那么很难想象再次将自己限制在完全室内工作。
The Fourth Pattern: Public Space. (…) a smooth “intimacy gradient” as you move toward the interior (…) should be true as well of a healthy workplace.
第四种模式:公共空间。(...)当你走向内部时,一个平滑的“亲密梯度”也应该是一个健康的工作场所。
The patterns that crop up again and again in successful space are there because they are in fundamental accord with characteristics of the human creature. They allow him to function as a human. They emphasize his essence—he is at once an individual and a member of a group. They deny neither his individuality nor his inclination to bond into teams. They let him be what he is.
A common element that runs through all the patterns (both ours and Alexander’s) is reliance upon non-replicable formulas. No two people have to have exactly the same work space. No two coffee areas have to be identical, nor any two libraries or sitting areas. The texture and shape and organization of space are fascinating issues to the people who occupy that space. The space needs to be isomorphic to the work that goes on there. And people at all levels need to leave their mark on the workplace.
在成功的太空中一次又一次出现的模式之所以存在,是因为它们从根本上符合人类的特征。他们允许他像人一样运作。他们强调他的本质——他既是个体,又是群体的一员。他们既不否认他的个性,也不否认他融入团队的倾向。他们让他成为他现在的样子。
贯穿所有模式(包括我们的模式和亚历山大模式)的一个共同因素是对不可复制公式的依赖。没有两个人必须拥有完全相同的工作空间。没有两个咖啡区必须完全相同,也没有两个图书馆或休息区必须完全相同。空间的质地、形状和组织对于占据该空间的人们来说是令人着迷的问题。空间需要与那里正在进行的工作同构。各级人员都需要在工作场所留下自己的印记。
There is nonetheless a possible way to put your people into vital, productive space. The possibility arises because master-planned space is almost always full, and it’s a continual hassle to find a place to house any new effort. If you run one of those as-yet-unhoused efforts, turn your sights outward. Petition to move your group out of the corporate monolith. (…) You don’t have to solve the space problem for the whole institution. If you can solve it just for your own people, you’re way ahead.
尽管如此,还是有一种可能的方法可以将您的员工置于重要的、富有成效的空间中。这种可能性之所以出现,是因为总体规划的空间几乎总是满的,而且找到一个容纳任何新工作的地方都是一个持续的麻烦。如果你在做那些尚未找到的工作之一,把你的目光转向外面。请愿将您的团队从公司整体中移出。(...)您不必为整个机构解决空间问题。如果你能只为自己的人解决这个问题,你就遥遥领先。
Part III. The Right People 合适的人选
Replace [the manager-as-strategist view] with an approach that encourages you to court success with this formula: Get the right people. Make them happy so they don’t want to leave. Turn them loose.
用一种鼓励你用这个公式来争取成功的方法取代[经理即战略家的观点]:找到合适的人。让他们开心,这样他们就不想离开了。把它们松开。
14. The Hornblower Factor
So the people who work for you through whatever period will be more or less the same at the end as they were at the beginning. If they’re not right for the job from the start, they never will be.
因此,在任何时期为你工作的人在结束时都会或多或少地与开始时相同。如果他们从一开始就不适合这份工作,他们永远不会。
The need for uniformity is a sign of insecurity on the part of management.
统一的需要是管理层不安全的表现。
The term unprofessional is often used to characterize surprising and threatening behavior. Anything that upsets the weak manager is almost by definition unprofessional.
“不专业”一词通常用于描述令人惊讶和威胁的行为。任何让软弱的经理感到不安的事情几乎都是不专业的。
SECOND THERMODYNAMIC LAW OF MANAGEMENT: Entropy is always increasing in the organization. That’s why most elderly institutions are tighter and a lot less fun than sprightly young companies.
管理的第二热力学定律:组织中的熵总是在增加。这就是为什么大多数老年机构比年轻公司更紧凑,乐趣也少得多的原因。
15. Let’s Talk about Leadership
In order to lead without positional authority —without anyone ever appointing you leader— you have to do:
为了在没有职位权威的情况下领导——没有人任命你为领导者——你必须做到:
Step up to the task.
Be evidently fit for the task.
Prepare for the task by doing the required homework ahead of time.
Maximize value to everyone.
Do it all with humor and obvious goodwill.
It also helps to have charisma.
逐步完成任务。
显然适合这项任务。
通过提前完成所需的功课来准备任务。
为每个人创造最大价值。
以幽默和明显的善意来做这一切。
它也有助于拥有魅力。
Innovation is all about leadership, and leadership is all about innovation.
创新是关于领导力的,而领导力就是创新。
The net here is that it takes a bit of a rebel to help even the best innovation achieve its promise: rebel leadership. The innovator himself doesn’t have to be a great leader, but someone has to be. What rebel leadership supplies to this process is the time to innovate—you take a key person away from doing billable work (this may constitute constructive disobedience on your part) in order to pursue a nascent vision—and the hard push for whatever reshaping the organization has to submit to in order to take advantage of the innovation.
这里的网络是,即使是最好的创新也需要一点叛逆者才能实现它的承诺:叛逆者领导。创新者自己不一定是伟大的领导者,但必须有人成为领导者。反叛领导层为这一过程提供的是创新的时间——你让一个关键人物远离做收费的工作(这可能构成你的建设性不服从),以追求一个新生的愿景——以及为了利用创新而必须屈服于组织的任何重塑。
Since nobody ever knows how the next innovation may alter the organization, nobody knows enough to give permission to the key instigators to do what needs to be done. That’s why leadership as a service almost always operates without official permission.
由于没有人知道下一次创新会如何改变组织,所以没有人知道足够的知识来允许关键的煽动者做需要做的事情。这就是为什么领导力即服务几乎总是在未经官方许可的情况下运作的原因。
16. Hiring a Juggler 雇用杂耍者
When you set out to hire an engineer or a designer or a programmer or a group manager, the rules of common sense are often suspended. You don’t ask to see a design or a program or anything. In fact, the interview is just talk.
当你开始雇用工程师、设计师、程序员或团队经理时,常识规则往往被搁置。你不会要求看到一个设计或程序或任何东西。事实上,采访只是说说而已。
Aptitude tests are almost always oriented toward the tasks the person will perform immediately after being hired. (…) [But] That person might end up doing the tasks that the test measured for two years and then do other things for twenty.
能力倾向测试几乎总是针对该人在被录用后将立即执行的任务。(...)[但是]这个人可能最终会完成测试测量两年的任务,然后做二十年的其他事情。
So the hiring process needs to focus on at least some sociological and human communication traits. The best way we’ve discovered to do this is through the use of auditions for job candidates.
因此,招聘过程至少需要关注一些社会学和人类沟通特征。我们发现最好的方法是对求职者进行试镜。
17. Playing Well with Others 与他人相处融洽
Women brought much more to their new industry than just labor hours. They changed the way that teams were organized and how team members interacted. (…) Today, an all-male team seems thin and less than totally energized. Women made a huge difference.
女性为她们的新行业带来的不仅仅是劳动时间。它们改变了团队的组织方式和团队成员的互动方式。(...)今天,一支全男性的团队看起来很单薄,而且没有完全精力充沛。女性发挥了巨大的作用。
That said, the capacity of a team to absorb newness has its limits. Twenty contractors this month, three the next month, and fifteen the third month means you have just had to integrate 38 new people during your project. You need extra planning to avoid renting humans like you rent cars.
也就是说,一个团队吸收新事物的能力有其局限性。这个月有 20 个承包商,下个月有 3 个,第三个月有 15 个,这意味着您只需要在项目期间整合 38 名新人。你需要额外的计划,以避免像租车一样租人。
18. Childhood’s End 童年的终结
One generation’s technology is the next generation’s environment.
一代人的技术就是下一代的环境。
In the most-simplistic terms, the new generational divide in your organization is about attention: Young people divide theirs while their older colleagues tend to focus on one or possibly two tasks at a time.
A generation that grew up studying with music blaring on their iPods, text messages flooding in and out, social networking sites open at all hours, and a video game going on sporadically in a window beside the history assignment is an illustration of what former Microsoft Vice President Linda Stone has called “continuous partial attention.” Your youngest hires will tell you that they operate most effectively in this environment.
The problem is that continuous partial attention is the exact opposite of flow. If you believe, as we do, that a flow state is essential for getting real work done, then you need to set limits on how attention may be divided. You need to make your youngest workers understand the difference between spending 2 percent of their workday on Facebook in a single block of time and spending 2 percent of their attention all day on Facebook. The one may be a reasonable accommodation for human workers’ personal needs (much like the occasional call or text message home during working hours), while the other may be a deterrent to their ever fitting in. Workers who can’t get into flow are not just less effective, they also are unlikely to fit into a jelled team of mixed-generation people.
用最简单的术语来说,组织中新的代际鸿沟是关于注意力的:年轻人将他们的注意力分开,而他们的年长同事倾向于一次专注于一项或两项任务。
这一代人从小就在iPod上播放着音乐,短信如潮水般涌入,社交网站全天开放,历史作业旁边的橱窗里零星地播放着电子游戏,这些都是前Microsoft副总统琳达·斯通(Linda Stone)所说的“持续部分关注”的例证。你最年轻的员工会告诉你,他们在这种环境中运作得最有效。
问题在于,持续的部分注意力与心流完全相反。如果你像我们一样相信心流状态对于完成真正的工作是必不可少的,那么你需要对注意力的分配方式设定限制。你需要让你最年轻的员工明白,在一段时间内将2%的工作日花在Facebook上和整天花在Facebook上2%的注意力之间的区别。一种可能是满足人类工作者个人需求的合理便利(就像在工作时间偶尔打电话或发短信回家一样),而另一种可能是阻碍他们适应的障碍。无法进入流程的工人不仅效率较低,而且也不太可能融入由混血一代组成的团队。
Articulating the contract to young workers is going to be essential to give them a chance to fit in. If work needs to be done in flow, then your people need to be ready to focus. Continuous-partial-attention periods have to be defined as personal time off, acceptable within limits during the workday. The rest of the workday is for, well, work.
向年轻工人阐明合同对于让他们有机会融入至关重要。如果工作需要按流程完成,那么您的员工需要准备好集中精力。连续部分注意力时间必须定义为个人休假,在工作日的范围内是可以接受的。工作日的其余时间都是为了工作。
19. Happy to Be Here 很高兴来到这里
A reasonable assessment of start-up cost is therefore approximately three lost work-months per new hire. (…) The total cost of replacing each person is the equivalent of four-and-a-half to five months of employee cost or about 20 percent of the cost of keeping that employee for the full two years on the job.
因此,对启动成本的合理评估是,每个新员工大约损失三个工作月。(...)更换每个人的总成本相当于四个半到五个月的员工成本,或大约是让该员工工作整整两年的成本的 20%。
In an organization with high turnover, nobody is willing to take the long view.
在一个高流动率的组织中,没有人愿意采取长远的眼光。
Over the years, we have been privileged to work and consult for a few companies with extraordinarily low turnover. You won’t be surprised to learn that low turnover is not the only good thing about these companies. Indeed, they seem to excel at many or most of the people-conscious qualities discussed in these pages. They are the best. (…) The best organizations are not of a kind; they are more notable for their dissimilarities than for their likenesses. But one thing that they all share is a preoccupation with being the best.
多年来,我们有幸为一些营业额极低的公司工作和提供咨询。你不会惊讶地发现,低周转率并不是这些公司的唯一好处。事实上,他们似乎在这些页面中讨论的许多或大多数具有人性意识的品质方面表现出色。他们是最好的。(...)最好的组织不是那种;它们更引人注目的是它们的差异性,而不是它们的相似性。但有一个共同点是,他们都专注于成为最好的。
A common feature of companies with the lowest turnover is widespread retraining. (…) When they needed new skills to make a change, the company provided those skills. No job is a dead end.
营业额最低的公司的一个共同特征是广泛的再培训。(...)当他们需要新技能来做出改变时,公司提供了这些技能。没有工作是死胡同。
20. Human Capital 人力资本
Companies treat investment in people as an expense, which is contrary to the fact that people is what matters the most for knowledge work.
公司将对人的投资视为一种费用,这与人是知识工作最重要的事实相反。
Part IV: Growing Productive Teams
Good work experiences have always got a fair measure of challenge about them (…) [but] it’s a remote part of the background. What’s in the foreground of most of our prized work memories is team interaction.
良好的工作经验总是会受到相当大的挑战(...[但是]它是背景的远程部分。我们大多数珍贵的工作记忆中最重要的是团队互动。
21. The Whole Is Greater Than the Sum of the Parts
A jelled team is a group of people so strongly knit that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. (…) Once a team begins to jell, the probability of success goes up dramatically. (…) Teams by their very nature are formed around goals. (…) As part of the jelling process, they have all bought into the common goal. (…) Even though the goal itself may seem arbitrary to team members, they pursue it with enormous energy.
一个果冻团队是一群紧密团结的人,整体大于部分之和。(...)一旦一个团队开始抽搐,成功的可能性就会急剧上升。(...)团队本质上是围绕目标组建的。(...)作为果冻过程的一部分,他们都接受了共同的目标。(...)尽管目标本身对团队成员来说似乎是任意的,但他们以巨大的精力追求它。
Believing that workers will automatically accept organizational goals is the sign of naïve managerial optimism. (…) Organizational goals come in for constant scrutiny by the people who work for the organization, and most of those goals are judged to be awfully arbitrary.
相信员工会自动接受组织目标,这是幼稚的管理乐观主义的标志。(...)组织目标受到为组织工作的人的不断审查,其中大多数目标被判定为非常武断。
There is very little true teamwork required in most of our work. But teams are still important, for they serve as a device to get everyone pulling in the same direction. The purpose of a team is not goal attainment but goal alignment.
在我们的大多数工作中,几乎不需要真正的团队合作。但团队仍然很重要,因为它们是一种让每个人都朝着同一个方向努力的工具。团队的目的不是实现目标,而是目标一致。
A few very characteristic signs indicate that a jelled team has occurred. The most important of these is low turnover during projects and in the middle of well-defined tasks.
一些非常典型的迹象表明,已经出现了一个果冻团队。其中最重要的是在项目期间和明确定义的任务中流动率低。
Jelled teams are usually marked by a strong sense of identity.
果冻团队通常以强烈的认同感为标志。
There is a sense of eliteness on a good team.
一个好的团队有一种精英感。
There is invariably a feeling of joint ownership of the product built by the jelled team.
总有一种对果冻团队构建的产品的共同所有权的感觉。
The final sign of a jelled team is the obvious enjoyment that people take in their work.
果冻团队的最后一个标志是人们在工作中得到的明显乐趣。
People use team when the tight bonding of the jelled working group is pleasing to them. And they use clique when it represents a threat. (…) Fear of cliques is a sign of managerial insecurity.
当果冻工作组的紧密联系令他们满意时,人们就会使用团队。当集团代表威胁时,他们会使用集团。(...)对小圈子的恐惧是管理不安全感的标志。
22. The Black Team
Give a goal to a group of motivated, talented people and you have a jelled team.
给一群积极进取、才华横溢的人一个目标,你就拥有了一个充满活力的团队。
23. Teamicide
You can’t make teams jell. You can hope they will jell; you can (…) but you can’t make it happen. The process is much too fragile to be controlled.
你不能让团队果冻。你可以希望它们会果冻;你可以(...),但你不能让它发生。这个过程太脆弱了,无法控制。
We stopped talking about building teams, and talked instead of growing them. The agricultural image seemed right.
我们不再谈论建立团队,而是谈论而不是发展他们。农业形象似乎是正确的。
Measures that make a team fail: Defensive management; Bureaucracy; Physical separation; Fragmentation of people’s time; Quality reduction of the product; Phony deadlines; Clique control.
使团队失败的措施:防守管理;官僚;物理分离;人们时间的碎片化;产品质量降低;虚假的最后期限;集团控制。
You can’t protect yourself against your own people’s incompetence. (…) But once you’ve decided to go with a given group, your best tactic is to trust them. Any defensive measure taken to guarantee success in spite of them will only make things worse.
你无法保护自己免受自己人民的无能。(...)但是,一旦你决定与一个特定的小组一起去,你最好的策略就是信任他们。尽管有这些措施,但为保证成功而采取的任何防御措施只会使事情变得更糟。
Mindless paper pushing is a waste. It ought to be attacked because it keeps people from working. But our point here is a slightly different one. It is that bureaucracy hurts team formation. The team needs to believe in whatever goal it forms around. (…) Just telling your people that the goal matters won’t be enough if you also have to tell them they should spend a third of their time pushing paper.
盲目推纸是一种浪费。它应该受到攻击,因为它使人们无法工作。但我们在这里的观点略有不同。官僚主义损害了团队的形成。团队需要相信它围绕什么目标形成。(...)如果你还必须告诉他们他们应该花三分之一的时间在推动纸张上,那么仅仅告诉你的员工目标很重要是不够的。
Teams need not only work interactions but also casual interactions, and you often need spaces for that.
团队不仅需要工作互动,还需要随意互动,而你往往需要空间。
Fragmentation is bad for team formation, but it’s also bad for efficiency. (…) No one can be part of multiple jelled teams.
碎片化不利于团队组建,但也不利于效率。(...)没有人可以成为多个果冻团队的一员。
Nobody really talks about quality-reduced products. What they talk about is cost-reduced products. But it usually boils down to the same thing.
没有人真正谈论质量降低的产品。他们谈论的是降低成本的产品。但它通常归结为同一件事。
Tight deadlines can sometimes be demotivating. (…) A tight but not impossible deadline can constitute an enjoyable challenge to the team. What’s never going to help, however, is a phony deadline.
紧迫的最后期限有时会令人沮丧。(...)紧迫但并非不可能的最后期限对团队来说是一个令人愉快的挑战。然而,永远无济于事的是虚假的最后期限。
The only time our management shows any awareness of teams is when it takes specific steps to break them up. (…) The team phenomenon, as we’ve described it, is something that happens only at the bottom of the hierarchy.
我们的管理层唯一表现出对团队的意识时,就是采取具体步骤来解散他们。(...)正如我们所描述的,团队现象只发生在层次结构的底部。
24. Teamicide Revisited
Motivational accessories, as they are called (including slogan coffee mugs, plaques, pins, key chains, and awards), are a triumph of form over substance. They seem to extol the importance of Quality, Leadership, Creativity, Teamwork, Loyalty, and a host of other organizational virtues. But they do so in such simplistic terms as to send an entirely different message: Management here believes that these virtues can be improved with posters rather than by hard work and managerial talent.
励志配件,正如它们所称的那样(包括标语咖啡杯、牌匾、别针、钥匙链和奖项),是形式胜于实质的胜利。他们似乎颂扬了质量、领导力、创造力、团队合作、忠诚度和许多其他组织美德的重要性。但他们这样做的措辞如此简单,以至于发出了一个完全不同的信息:这里的管理层认为,这些美德可以通过海报来改善,而不是通过努力工作和管理才能来改善。
Extended overtime is a productivity-reduction technique, anyway. The extra hours are almost always more than offset by the negative side effects. (…) We don’t work overtime so much to get the work done on time as to shield ourselves from blame when the work inevitably doesn’t get done on time.
无论如何,延长加班时间是一种降低生产力的技术。额外的时间几乎总是被负面的副作用所抵消。(...)我们不会为了按时完成工作而加班,而是在工作不可避免地无法按时完成时保护自己免受指责。
25. Competition
Competition between siblings is not entirely ok.
兄弟姐妹之间的竞争并不完全可以。
When you observe a well-knit team in action, you’ll see a basic hygienic act of peer-coaching that is going on all the time. Team members sit down in pairs to transfer knowledge. When this happens, there is always one learner and one teacher. Their roles tend to switch back and forth over time with, perhaps, A coaching B about TCP/IP and then B coaching A about implementation of queues. When it works well, the participants are barely even aware of it. They may not even identify it as coaching; to them, it may just seem like work. (…) Whether it is named or not, coaching is an important factor in successful team interaction. (…) The act of coaching simply cannot take place if people don’t feel safe.
当你观察一个团结良好的团队在行动时,你会看到一个基本的卫生行为,即一直在进行的同伴辅导。团队成员两人一组坐下来传授知识。当这种情况发生时,总会有一个学习者和一个老师。随着时间的流逝,他们的角色往往会来回切换,也许是 A 指导 B 了解 TCP/IP,然后 B 指导 A 实现队列。当它运作良好时,参与者甚至几乎不知道它。他们甚至可能不认为这是教练;对他们来说,这似乎只是工作。(...)无论是否命名,教练都是成功团队互动的重要因素。(...)如果人们感到不安全,教练的行为根本无法发生。
Internal competition has the direct effect of making coaching difficult or impossible.
内部竞争的直接影响是使教练变得困难或不可能。
Any action that rewards team members differentially is likely to foster competition. Managers need to take steps to decrease or counteract this effect.
任何对团队成员进行差异奖励的行动都可能促进竞争。管理者需要采取措施减少或抵消这种影响。
26. A Spaghetti Dinner 意大利面晚餐
Good managers provide frequent easy opportunities for the team to succeed together. (…) The best boss is the one who can manage this over and over again without the team members knowing they’ve been “managed.”
优秀的管理者经常为团队提供轻松的机会,让他们共同取得成功。(...)最好的老板是能够一遍又一遍地管理这件事的人,而团队成员却不知道他们已经被“管理”了。
27. Open Kimono 打开和服
You take no steps to defend yourself from the people you’ve put into positions of trust. And all the people under you are in positions of trust. A person you can’t trust with any autonomy is of no use to you.
你没有采取任何措施来保护自己免受你所信任的人的伤害。你手下的所有人都处于信任的位置。一个你不能信任任何自主权的人对你毫无用处。
It’s heady and a little frightening to know that the boss has put part of his or her reputation into the subordinates’ hands. It brings out the best in everyone.
知道老板将他或她的部分声誉交到下属手中,这令人陶醉,也有点可怕。它能激发每个人最好的一面。
If you’ve got decent people under you, there is probably nothing you can do to improve their chances of success more dramatically than to get yourself out of their hair occasionally.
如果你手下有体面的人,那么你可能没有什么比偶尔让自己摆脱他们的头发更能显着提高他们成功的机会了。
By their fruits, ye shall know them.
凭着他们的果子,你们就认识他们了。
The engineering profession is famous for a kind of development mode that doesn’t exist elsewhere: (…) the project is hidden away someplace where it can be done without upper management’s knowing what’s going on.º
工程专业以一种在其他地方不存在的开发模式而闻名:(...)项目隐藏在某个地方,可以在高层管理人员不知道发生了什么的情况下完成。
People at all levels know whether some sensible insubordination is acceptable or not.
各级人民都知道一些明智的不服从是可以接受的。
Admittedly simplistic list of the elements of a chemistry-building strategy for a healthy organization:
- Make a cult of quality.
- The judgment that a still-imperfect product is “good enough” is the death knell for a jelling team. (…) The opposite attitude, of “only perfect is good enough for us,” gives the team a real chance. This cult of quality is the strongest catalyst for team formation.
- Provide lots of satisfying closure.
- Build a sense of eliteness.
- Allow and encourage heterogeneity.
- Preserve and protect successful teams.
- Provide strategic but not tactical direction.
- By definition, the manager is not a peer and so can’t be part of the peer group. (…) No one is the permanent leader, because that person would then cease to be a peer and the team interaction would begin to break down. The structure of a team is a network, not a hierarchy. For all the deference paid to the concept of leadership (a cult word in our industry), it just doesn’t have much place here.
诚然,一个健康组织的化学建设战略的要素清单非常简单:
- 对质量进行崇拜。
- 判断一个仍然不完美的产品是否“足够好”,是果冻团队的丧钟。(...)相反的态度,“只有完美对我们来说才足够好”,这给了团队一个真正的机会。这种对质量的崇拜是团队组建的最强催化剂。
- 提供许多令人满意的关闭。
- 建立精英感。
- 允许并鼓励异质性。
- 维护和保护成功的团队。
- 提供战略方向,而不是战术方向。
- 根据定义,经理不是对等方,因此不能成为对等组的一部分。(...)没有人是永久的领导者,因为这个人将不再是同事,团队互动将开始破裂。团队的结构是一个网络,而不是一个层次结构。尽管对领导力的概念(我们行业中的一个崇拜词)给予了尊重,但它在这里并没有太多的位置。
Part V: Fertile Soil
29. The Self-Healing System 自我修复系统
There is a big difference between Methodology and methodology. Small m methodology is a basic approach one takes to getting a job done. It doesn’t reside in a fat book, but rather inside the heads of the people carrying out the work. Such a methodology consists of two parts: a tailored plan (specific to the work at hand) and a body of skills necessary to effect the plan. One could hardly be opposed to methodology: The work couldn’t even begin without it. But a Methodology is very different
方法论和方法论之间有很大的区别。小 m 方法论是完成工作的基本方法。它不是存在于一本厚厚的书中,而是存在于从事这项工作的人的脑海中。这种方法由两部分组成:量身定制的计划(针对手头的工作)和实施计划所需的一系列技能。人们几乎不能反对方法论:没有它,工作甚至无法开始。但方法论却大不相同
Big M Methodology is an attempt to centralize thinking.1 All meaningful decisions are made by the Methodology builders, not by the staff assigned to do the work. Those who espouse a Methodology have a long list of its supposed benefits, including standardization, documentary uniformity, managerial control, and state-of-the-art techniques. These make up the overt case for the Methodology. The covert case is simpler and cruder: the idea that project people aren’t smart enough to do the thinking.
Big M Methodology 是一种集中思考的尝试.1 所有有意义的决策都是由方法论的构建者做出的,而不是由被指派做这项工作的员工做出的。那些拥护方法论的人有一长串所谓的好处,包括标准化、文件统一性、管理控制和最先进的技术。这些构成了方法论的明显案例。隐蔽的情况更简单、更粗糙:项目人员不够聪明,无法进行思考。
Voluminous documentation is part of the problem, not part of the solution.
大量的文档是问题的一部分,而不是解决方案的一部分。
Methodologies are not the only way to achieve convergence.
方法论不是实现趋同的唯一途径。
Better ways to achieve convergence: training; tools; peer review.
实现融合的更好方法:培训;工具;同行审查。
30. Dancing with Risk
Project risk is a good thing, a likely indicator of value. Projects that have real value but little or no risk were all done ages ago.
项目风险是一件好事,是价值的可能指标。具有实际价值但风险很小或没有风险的项目都是很久以前完成的。
It’s perfectly reasonable not to manage a risk for which the probability of occurrence is extremely low. It’s not reasonable to leave unmanaged the risk for which the consequences are “just too awful to think about.”
不管理发生概率极低的风险是完全合理的。对后果“太可怕而无法想象的”风险置之不理是不合理的。
31. Meetings, Monologues, and Conversations 会议、独白和对话
Behavior [open laptops and so on] that we take for granted today would have gotten you fired a generation ago.
我们今天认为理所当然的行为(打开笔记本电脑等)会在一代人之前让你被解雇。
A meeting that is specifically called to get something done might be called a working meeting (…), typically called to reach a decision. Who should be invited? That’s easy, the people who need to agree before the decision can be judged made. Nobody else. To make sure no one is blindsided, it’s essential that the working meeting have an agenda relevant to its purpose and that it stick to that agenda.
专门为完成某事而召开的会议可能称为工作会议 (...),通常是为了做出决定而召开的。应该邀请谁?这很容易,在做出决定之前需要达成一致的人才能做出判断。没有其他人。为了确保没有人被蒙蔽双眼,工作会议必须有一个与其目的相关的议程,并坚持该议程。
Your goal should be to eliminate most ceremonial meetings and spend the time in one-on-one conversation, to limit attendance at working meetings and apply the “What ends this meeting?” test to each one. In place of ceremonies, encourage Open-Space networking to give people a chance to have unstructured interaction. Most important, curtail your own need for the confirmation that is provided by ceremonial meetings.
你的目标应该是取消大多数仪式会议,把时间花在一对一的对话上,限制工作会议的出席率,并对每个会议应用“什么结束了这次会议?”测试。代替仪式,鼓励开放空间网络,让人们有机会进行非结构化的互动。最重要的是,减少你自己对礼仪会议提供的确认的需要。
32. The Ultimate Management Sin Is ... 管理的终极罪是……
… wasting people’s time. ……浪费人们的时间
The need that [a meeting with n people present] was being served was not the boss’s need for information, but for reassurance. The ceremony supplies reassurance.
[有 n 个人在场的会议] 的需要不是老板对信息的需要,而是对保证的需要。仪式让人放心。
Ad-hoc implies that the meeting is unlikely to be regularly scheduled. Any regular get-together is therefore somewhat suspect as likely to have a ceremonial purpose rather than a focused goal of consensus. The weekly status meeting is an obvious example. Though its goal may seem to be status reporting, its real intent is status confirming. And it’s not the status of the work, but the status of the boss.
临时意味着会议不太可能定期安排。因此,任何定期的聚会都可能具有仪式目的,而不是达成共识的重点目标。每周一次的状态会议就是一个明显的例子。虽然它的目标似乎是状态报告,但其真正意图是状态确认。这不是工作的状态,而是老板的状态。
There is a natural inclination to take the effort lopped off the end and apply it back at the beginning. Voilà, a project with this familiar pattern of early overstaffing.
有一种自然的倾向,就是把从末端掉下来的努力,在开始时把它放回去。瞧,这是一个具有这种熟悉的早期人员过剩模式的项目。
Fragmented time is almost certain to be teamicidal, but it also has another insidious effect: It is guaranteed to waste the individual’s time. A worker with multiple assignments—a little new development, some maintenance of a legacy product, some sales support, and perhaps a bit of end user hand-holding— will spend a significant part of each day switching gears.
碎片化的时间几乎可以肯定是团队杀戮,但它也有另一个阴险的影响:它肯定会浪费个人的时间。一个有多个任务的工人——一些新的开发、一些遗留产品的维护、一些销售支持,也许还有一些最终用户的帮助——每天将花费很大一部分时间来换档。
33. E(vil) Mail
When you over-coordinate the people who work for you, they’re all too likely to under-coordinate their own efforts.
当你过度协调为你工作的人时,他们很可能会不协调自己的努力。
Life is short. If you need to know everything in order to do anything, you’re not going to get much done.
生命是短暂的。如果你需要知道一切才能做任何事情,你不会做很多事情。
34. Making Change Possible 让改变成为可能
People hate change.
人们讨厌改变。
When we start out to change, it is never certain that we will succeed. And the uncertainty is more compelling than the potential for gain.
当我们开始改变时,我们永远无法确定我们是否会成功。不确定性比潜在的收益更具吸引力。
The Believers But Questioners are the only meaningful potential allies of any change
信徒,但质疑者是任何变革中唯一有意义的潜在盟友
Change involves at least 4 stages: old Status Quo, Chaos, Practice and Integration and New Status Quo. You move from 1 to 2 pushed by a foreign element, and from 2 to 3 with a transforming idea.
变革至少涉及4个阶段:旧现状、混沌、实践和整合以及新现状。你从一个外来元素推动下从 1 移动到 2,从一个转变的想法从 2 移动到 3。
Change won’t even get started unless people feel safe.
除非人们感到安全,否则改变甚至不会开始。
35. Organizational Learning
The first thing to realize about organizational learning is that it is not the same as simple accumulation of experience.
关于组织学习,首先要认识到的是,它与简单的经验积累不同。
Experience gets turned into learning when an organization alters itself to take account of what experience has shown. This alteration takes two forms: The organization instills new skills and approaches in its people. OR The organization redesigns itself to operate in some different manner.
当一个组织改变自己以考虑到经验所显示的内容时,经验就会转化为学习。这种改变有两种形式:组织向员工灌输新的技能和方法。或者:组织重新设计自己,以某种不同的方式运作。
The most natural learning center for most organizations is at the level of that much-maligned institution, middle management. This squares exactly with our own observation that successful learning organizations are always characterized by strong middle management.
对于大多数组织来说,最自然的学习中心是在备受诟病的机构——中层管理人员的层面上。这与我们自己的观察完全吻合,即成功的学习型组织总是以强大的中层管理人员为特征。
An organization that succeeds in building a satisfying community tends to keep its people.
一个成功建立令人满意的社区的组织往往会留住其员工。
Part VI: It’s Supposed to Be Fun to Work Here
Nobody ever says outright that work ought not to be fun, but the idea is there, burned into our cultural subconsciousness.
从来没有人直截了当地说工作不应该很有趣,但这个想法就在那里,深深地烙印在我们的文化潜意识中。
Work should be fun.
37. Chaos and Order 混沌与秩序
Progress toward more orderly, controllable methods is an unstoppable trend. The thoughtful manager doesn’t want to stop the trend, but may nonetheless feel a need to replace some of the lost disorder that has breathed so much energy into the work. This leads to a policy of constructive reintroduction of small amounts of disorder. (…) Ways to implement this policy:
- Pilot projects
- War games
- Brainstorming
- Provocative training experiences
- Training, trips, conferences, celebrations, and retreats
朝着更有序、更可控的方式发展是不可阻挡的趋势。深思熟虑的经理不想阻止这种趋势,但可能仍然觉得有必要取代一些为工作注入大量能量的失落的混乱。这导致了建设性地重新引入少量混乱的政策。(...)实施此策略的方法:
- 试点项目
- 战争游戏
- 头脑 风暴
- 挑衅性的训练经历
- 培训、旅行、会议、庆典和务虚会
38. Free Electrons 自由电子
The trend to create an increasing number of free electron positions is more than just a response to the threat of the cottage industry. The reason there are so many gurus and fellows and intrapreneurs and internal consultants in healthy modern companies is quite simply that companies profit from them. The people in these positions contribute disproportionately to the organizations that employ them. They are motivated to make the positions created for them pay off for their companies.
创造越来越多的自由电子位置的趋势不仅仅是对家庭手工业威胁的回应。在健康的现代公司中,之所以有如此多的大师、研究员、内部企业家和内部顾问,原因很简单,公司从中获利。担任这些职位的人对雇用他们的组织做出了不成比例的贡献。他们有动力让为他们创造的职位为他们的公司带来回报。
The mark of the best manager is an ability to single out the few key spirits who have the proper mix of perspective and maturity and then turn them loose.
最佳经理人的标志是能够挑选出少数几个具有适当视角和成熟度的关键精神,然后让他们松懈。
39. Holgar Dansk 霍尔加·丹斯克
It doesn’t take much to wake up the giant. If the silliness is gross enough, people need no more than a gentle catalyst. It may be one small voice saying, “This is unacceptable.” People know it’s true. Once it’s been said out loud, they can’t ignore it any longer.
唤醒巨人并不需要太多。如果愚蠢到足够恶心,人们只需要一个温和的催化剂。可能是一个小声音在说,“这是不可接受的。人们知道这是真的。一旦大声说出来,他们就不能再忽视它了。
If you’ve smiled ruefully at any of the characterizations in this book, it’s time now to stop smiling and start taking corrective action.
如果你对本书中的任何描述都露出了可怜的笑容,那么现在是时候停止微笑并开始采取纠正措施了。
歌曲 Vienna waits for you 维也纳在等你
词曲: Billy Joel 放慢脚步,感受生活之美。
Slow down you crazy child
慢点,你个疯娃儿。
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart, Tell me why are you still so afraid?
少年啊,你太张狂了;
然而,若你真的聪明,那请告诉我,你为何依然恐惧?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out (cool off: 变凉, 平静下来)
哪里冒火了?什么事情使你火烧眉毛?
在你烧焦之前,你最好冷静下来。
You got so much to do, And only so many hours in a day
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want, Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
你还有那么多事要做,而一天的时间却只有这么多
你可知道,当水落石出之时
你得到的,也许是你想要的,也许只是你的老去
—— 人生的旅途还未过半,就完蛋了。
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you
你何时醒悟:维也纳在等你?
Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you wanna be before your time
慢下来,你做地很好
在死之前,你没法实现你的一切想法
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight
Tonight Too bad but it's the life you lead
尽管天际的余晖如此浪漫,
今晚却糟糕透顶,然而,这是你自找的。
You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need
你想得太多了,以至于忘记了你需要什么。
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know, you can't always see when you're right
尽管你能够看到你的错误,
你知道吗,你却不能总是发现你的正确。
You're right!
你是正确的!
You've got your passion You've got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
你有你的激情,你有你的骄傲;
可你知道吗,只有傻瓜才会满意!
梦想,却别幻想它们全部实现。
When will you realize Vienna waits for you?
你何时才会清醒:维也纳在等你?
Slow down you crazy child
慢点,你个疯娃儿。
Take the phone off the hook And disappeaar for a while
It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two
关掉手机,玩一下消失。
没事儿,你负担得起一两天的放空。
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you
你何时才会清醒:维也纳在等你?
['dʒu:vinail] n. 少年, 少年读物。
kick off: [informal] to begin 踢开; 强使离开。 gonna: /ˈɡɑː.nə/ going to
“流”的状态:“我开始工作。等我抬头一看,三个小时就过去了。”
这里不会有工作量的感知; 工作展开就像流一样自然。
对于从事工程、设计、开发、写作或类似的工作,流是必需的。
这些任务都需要精神高度集中,只有处在流的状态下,你才能够很好地工作。
不幸的是,你无法像开关那样随时启动流。
你需要一个缓慢的过程来进入状态,15分钟或更长时间的集中才能把自己锁定在流里面。
在这个引入过程中,对噪声和干扰是非常敏感的。
在一个毁灭性的环境,可能让你很难、甚至不可能进入流的状态。
办公环境设计往往过分关注外观。
事实上,与设计密切相关的是要看工作环境能否让你安心开展工作。
有益工作的办公室不是地位的象征,而是一种必需品。
你要么为打造这样的环境买单,要么就是牺牲生产效率来偿付。
当大家挂起稀奇古怪的照片,在桌上堆满东西,家具移来移去,或者合并他们的办公室时,你最好一笑置之。
只有当大家把空间按照适合自己的工作组织后,他们才能够抛开空间的影响,完全投入到工作中。
没有一起聚餐的人类不可能形成群体。给每个(工作小组)一个可以共同进餐的地方,并让其成为日常活动。
人既是个体的人,又是群体的人。人的个体属性和集体倾向性都得到了认可,从而让人能够自由发挥。
一个离职率高的组织里,没有人会去长线思考问题。
为什么离开?
过客心态:同事造成不希望长期投入工作的感觉
可被替代感:管理层认为员工是可被替代的部件,在这种情况下,忠诚是可笑的。
最低离职率的公司的一个共同特点就是广泛的再培训。