How Can We Fail to Succeed?

Poka-yoke is Japanese for fail-safe. The term was popularized by Shigeo Shingo, who made the notion an integral part of the Toyota Production System. The sense of this is patently obvious: ask ahead of time what could possibly go wrong in whatever it is you are trying to do, and figure out what you can do to keep it from happening or minimizing the damage if it does. An example of a fail-safe device is having fighter planes go to full power as they land on the deck of an aircraft carrier so they can take off again if the catch wire fails in some way.

VUCA is an acronym the U.S. Army has been using for over a decade to describe the world in which we are living. It stands for volatile, uncertain, complex, and ambiguous.

In a VUCA world, it is virtually impossible to predict the future. As a result, it is nigh unto impossible to develop strategic plans - including business, career, and life plans - that we can play out to a certain end as we were able to do in a more static world. But, plan we must. Or as the great philosopher Seneca said:

"If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favorable."

To deal with this conundrum you can employ the idea of poka-yoke to fail-safe your plans on the front end. Here's how. The plans you create answer the question:

"How can we succeed in getting from point A to point B?"

Most planning stops there. But to build a fail-safe device for your plan, you must ask and answer a second - and seldom asked - question:

"How can we fail to succeed?"

The best idea on how to answer this question comes from Gary Klein, a research psychologist and author of The Power of Intuition. He suggests that when our plans have been etched in stone, we conduct what he calls a PreMortem. This means holding a conversation in which we look out into the future to speculate on how our plans might meet an untimely demise. Here's what to do in Gary's own words.

Conversation:

• Preparation. Team members take out sheets of paper and get relaxed in their chairs. They should already be familiar with the plan, or else have the plan described to them so they can understand what is supposed to be happening.
• Imagine a fiasco. When I conduct the PreMortem, I say I am looking into a crystal ball and, oh no, I am seeing that the plan has failed. It isn’t a simple failure either. It is a total, embarrassing, devastating failure. The people on the team are no longer talking to each other. Our company is not talking to the sponsors. Things have gone as wrong as they could. However, we could only afford an inexpensive model of the crystal ball so we cannot make out the reason for the failure. Then I ask, “What could have caused this?”
• Generate reasons for failure. The people on the team spend the next three minutes writing down all the reasons why they believe the failure occurred. Here is where intuitions of the team members come into play. Each person has a different set of experiences, a different set of scars, and a different mental model to bring to this task. You want to see what the collective knowledge in the room can produce.
• Consolidate the lists. When each member of the group is done writing, the facilitator goes around the room, asking each person to state one item from his or her list. Each item is recorded in a whiteboard. This process continues until every member of the group has revealed every item on their list. By the end of this step, you should have a comprehensive list of the group’s concerns with the plan as hand.
• Revisit the plan. The team can address the two or three items of greatest concern, and then schedule another meeting to discuss ideas for avoiding or minimizing other problems.
• Periodically review the list. Some project leaders take out the list every three to four months to keep the spectre of failure fresh, and re-sensitize the team to the problems that may be emerging.

Afterwords:

"Argue as if you are right; listen as if you are wrong." - Karl Weick

"It often happens that a player carries out a deep and complicated calculation, but fails to spot something elementary right at the first move." - Grandmaster Alexander Kotov

"Anticipation is the heart of wisdom. If you are going to cross a desert, you anticipate that you will be thristy, and you take water." - Mark Helprin, A Soldier of the Great War

Nurse Bryan's Rule

In our book See New Now: New Lenses for Leadership and Life, Jerry de Jaager and I offer 24 lenses designed to communicate vital business and interpersonal concepts simply and memorably. Their value lies in the fact that they help individuals see things differently, inspire groups to breakthrough insights, and can change the way entire organizations think. They are based on a simple fact, once stated simply by Peter Drucker: "Insights last; theories don't."

An example of a story we might develop into a full-blown lens comes from Drucker himself. I am quoting here from page 160 of The Essential Drucker:

A focus on contribution (italics mine) is a powerful force in developing people. People adjust to the level of demands made on them. One who sets his sights on contribution raises the sights and standards of everyone with whom he works.

A new hospital administrator, holding his first staff meeting, thought that a rather difficult matter had been settled to everyone’s satisfaction, when one participant suddenly asked, “Would this have satisfied Nurse Bryan?” At once the argument started all over and did not subside until a new and much more ambitious solution to the problem had been hammered out.

Nurse Bryan, the administrator learned, had been a long-serving nurse at the hospital. She was not particularly distinguished, had not in fact ever been a supervisor. But whenever a decision on patient care came up on her floor, Nurse Bryan would ask, “Are we doing the best we can do to help this patient?” Patients on Nurse Bryan’s floor did better and recovered faster. Gradually, over the years, the whole hospital had learned to adopt what became known as Nurse Bryan’s Rule; had learned, in other words, to ask: "Are we really making the best contribution to the purpose of this hospital?"

Drucker goes on to point out that even though Nurse Bryan had been retired for ten years at the time the staff meeting was held, the standards she had set still commanded the attention and respect of the organization she had served so well.

The Nurse Bryan story - if developed fully - would certainly meet all of our tests for a good lens.

• It's quick: it can be read and appreciated in just minutes
  
• It's powerful: it is hard-hitting and memorable
• It's sticky: the story and its lessons will stay with you for a long time
• It's deep: it makes the complex simple without losing anything in the translation
  

Why not take a look through this mini-lens to see if you can come up with a different - and perhaps more valuable - take on the notion of contribution?

Conversation:

• What is this story about for you?
• How does it intersect your life or work at this moment?
• Is there a word, a phrase, or an image here that speaks directly to something important to you?

Afterwords:

"There are many books I could have written that are better than the ones I actually wrote. My best book would have been Managing Ignorance, and I'm very sorry I didn't write it." - Peter Drucker

"Oscar Wilde did not dive very deeply below the surface of human nature, but found, to a certain extent rightly, that there is more on the surface of life than is seen by the eyes of most people." - J.T. Grein, Sunday Special, Dec. 9, 1900

"The greatest thing a human soul ever does in this world is to see something and tell what it saw in a plain way. Hundreds of people can talk for one who can think, but thousands can think for one who can see. To see clearly is poetry, prophecy and religion – all in one."- John Ruskin

"When you help, you see life as weak. When you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole. Fixing and helping may be the work of the ego, and service the work of the soul." - Rachel Naomi Remen, Jewish World Review 10/23/09

"We should give as we would receive, cheerfully, quickly, and without hesitation; for there is no grace in a benefit that sticks to the fingers." - Seneca

"To encourage, to comfort, to awaken, and to stretch those who find themselves riding this big ball as it screams thru time in the silence of space. To be a bridge, not a barricade. To be a link, not a lapse. To be a beacon and a bolster; not a bragger or a bummer. To help bring the corners of life's lips to their summit. To be a friend to those who find their fit a little awkward in this chaos society calls living." - Vess Barnes III

Cowell and Candor

American Idol judge Simon Cowell is thought to be mean-spirited for saying things like:

"You have just invented a new form of torture."

"Shave off your beard and wear a dress. You would make a great female impersonator."

Simon also gives plenty of pats on the back ...

"I don't say this lightly, what I'm about to say. That performance was on a par with Whitney Houston ... Celine Dion ... seriously."

"At five seasons, you are the best male vocalist we've ever had."

... but hardly anyone notices, or thinks of him as nice.

Why? His candor - especially when he is being brutally honest - is so out of step with the current conventions of social discourse that it stands out like a sore thumb. Simon understands this ...

"I think you have to judge everything based on your personal taste. And, if that means being critical, so be it. I hate political correctness. I absolutely loathe it."

... but there's a method to his madness:

"I haven't done anything particularly harsh. Harshness to me is giving somebody false hopes and not following through. That's harsh. Telling some guy or some girl who's got zero talent that he or she has zero talent actually is a kindness."

Maybe this is why he says:

"I am poor, misunderstood Simon. I'm really the nice one and no one gets it yet. But, they will."

Whether you agree or not, it's worth examining his premise more thoroughly.

There is a show in the U.K. similar to American Idol. It's called Britain's Got Talent. Simon is a judge there as well. Watch the following clip from the show. Here is what you'll see. A six year old girl steps onstage to perform. She is vying for a spot in the finals. She sings. The first two judges sing her praises. Simon is last to speak. Pay close attention to his words and - more importantly - how he frames them.

Here's Connie:

There are at least two things worth noting. The first is to recognize Simon's credibility as a judge. Little Connie, her parents, the audience and the other judges were all holding their breath as they waited for Simon's assessment. This is because they knew - based on his previous behavior - that he could be trusted to give her the rating he thought she had earned - nothing more and nothing less. And, they were afraid that he might not have liked her performance all that much.

The second is more subtle. When he said "Connie, I'm going to talk with you like an adult because I think it is important," he was deliberately making it clear he was going to hold her to the same standard as everyone else in the competition. If he hadn't framed it that way - and simply told her she was terrific - she might have thought he was just being nice to her because she was only six years old. As a matter of fact, odds are great that most of the feedback Connie had gotten up to that point in her life had been qualified as in "She's really good ... for someone who's only six." Instead, Simon gave her a true gift: feedback she could take to heart. It didn't matter that she was only six, she was good ... period.

But would he have been straight with her - or mean in the mind of most - had her performance been poor? In all likelihood, yes. It's also likely he would've taken her age into account and cushioned the blow as best he could. In other words, he would've tried to balance courage with consideration.

As a leader or manager or coach or mentor or teacher or spouse or parent or friend or neighbor or whatever, you should feel obligated to give the folks who wander in and around your life any feedback you think would - or even just might - be helpful to them. There are times, of course, when it is easier - and correct - to say nothing, or color the truth in some small way, to avoid hurting someone's feelings or getting into an argument. But, don't be too tempted to take the easy way out. Be like Simon. Care for people instead of taking care of them. There's a big difference.

Morris Schectman lays out the difference in his book Working Without a Net:

"Caretaking is when you bother me a little bit, and I do just enough. I feel better because I think I took care of you. That is not any good to you at all. You may be in fact an alcoholic and I just gave you the money to buy the bottle that kills you. But, I feel better and go home."

"Caring is actually stopping and dealing with the human being, trying to understand enough about them to genuinely make sure you improve their life, even if you have to start with a conversation like, 'If you will quit drinking, I will help you get a job.' This is a lot harder than saying, 'Here's a buck or 5 bucks. I hope it helps.'"

Conversation:

• How do you tend to have either a caretaking nature or a caring nature?
• Can you think of a situation(s) in which you were a caretaker? What did you do? What was the short-term result? Long-term? How was what you did either fair or unfair to the other person involved?
• Can you think of a situation(s) in which you were caring? What did you do? What was the short-term result? Long-term? How was what you did either fair or unfair to the other person?

Afterwords:

"He who praises everybody, praises nobody." - James Boswell

"Speech devoted to truth should be straightforward and plain." - Seneca

"The beginning of wisdom is to call things by their right names." - Confucius

"Beware how you take away hope from another human being." - Oliver Wendell Holmes

Hey! (It's My) Culligan Man.

I got to spend a few minutes recently visiting with the guy who delivers Culligan bottled water to my house. This isn't the first time we've jawed, and if the good Lord's willin' and the creek don't rise, it won't be the last.

I've come to know him fairly well over the past year or so. He's in his early forties, and a family man. He joined Navy after high school, and is justifiably proud of his service to his country. He finished up a college degree after he got out, and nabbed an entry-level, salaried position with a fairly good-sized company. He showed up faithfully for almost three years, and then resigned. He wanted out of cubicle nation. He wanted to do something more physically and mentally invigorating. He wanted to work directly with customers. He wanted to drive a truck and deliver water for Culligan. And, so he did.

That was 15 years ago. Has it worked for him? He's one of the most senior drivers in his company, and has built one of its largest and most profitable routes. He's been asked to accept a management position an untold number of times, and has politely - but firmly - declined on each occasion. Why? It's pure and simple: he loves what he's doing.

This is an interesting story, and I could wrap it up here by saying something like do what you love and the money will follow. We can dig a little deeper though.

First, we can ask - as I did this afternoon - how he has managed to build such a large and loyal customer base. His answer? He hesitated at first. Then he said:

"I think it's because I really like my customers. I enjoy talking to them and getting to know them. I like to help them in any way I can."

He means it, too. I've been looking for a cheapo used car for one of my kids. He said he just traded his in yesterday. He offered to call the dealer to see if he could buy it back so he could sell it to me. When I told him I didn't want to put him through those paces, he came back with the offer to keep his eyes open and call me if he spotted something suitable. Now, you might be thinking that Culligan must have one helluva customer service training program if it turns out people like him. Maybe they do. Maybe they don't. It doesn't matter in this case. My man's success is not built around sound sales and service techniques. It is - instead - a function of who he is and how much he genuinely cares about meeting, knowing, and serving others. I was still curious, though, so I asked him what kind of training he'd had. He said:

"Well, it's good. But I really can't do it just the way they say. It seems too canned. I'm more comfortable doing things my way."

There are some people who are naturals. They don't need a manual. They don't need a classroom. They just do what they do. How do you coach them? I am reminded of the words of Jim Frey, former Kansas City Royals manager, when he was asked how he coached the great natural hitter George Brett. Frey said:

"I tell him 'Attaway to hit, George'."

We used to have craftsman's guilds in this country. Young workers initially learned their trade by becoming apprentices to guild members. Once their apprenticeships were over, they became journeymen and started earning a wage. The final step was to save enough money to start their own businesses and become masters of their trade. I sometimes wonder whether it might be wise to return to this learning tradition - at least in some cases. For example, there's no way that Culligan can package what my man knows and teach it to others in a classroom, but they might be well-served to have new hires study by his side.

Second, we can ask - as I did on a previous visit - how he was able to turn his back on the extra money that would've followed a move up the ladder. He said:

"I try to keep my life simple. I do that by dialing back on buying stuff I don't really need. As long as I've got clean sheets on my bed, food on my table, a roof over my head, and a family that loves me, I'm good ... and I'm free to stay on in a job that makes me happy."

He has some rules about this. He tries not to spend more than he makes. He saves a little something out of each paycheck. He avoids credit cards like the plague. He quickly reverses course if he somehow gets in over his head. For example, he started a truck fund a few years ago and added to it here and there. When he finally had enough money, he bought the vehicle he'd been saving for. And, he loved that truck. Not too long after that, though, gas prices skyrocketed and he decided the truck had to go. It was costing him too much to run. He sold it and bought small car that averaged almost 40 miles a gallon. He was relieved. His stress level returned to single digits.

Finally, we can put to rest the notion that he's got a perfect life. He doesn't. He has crosses to bear just like the rest of us. He talked about one of them briefly today, and I simply listened. I'm hoping there'll come a day when he reaches out for help. And, if he does, I'm there. After all, we're friends.

Conversation:

• The philosopher Seneca said "We never reflect how pleasant it is to ask for nothing." How do you respond to this notion?

Afterwords:

"Each time we look upon the poor, on the farm workers who harvest the coffee, the sugar cane, or the cotton… remember, there is the face of Christ." - Archbishop Oscar Romero

"It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor." - Seneca

"The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. To be your own man is a hard business. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself." - Rudyard Kipling

"We are an exceptional model of the human race. We no longer know how to produce food. We no longer can heal ourselves. We no longer raise our young. We have forgotten the names of the stars, fail to notice the phases of the moon. We do not know the plants and they no longer protect us. We tell ourselves we are the most powerful specimens of our kind who have ever lived. But when the lights are off we are helpless. We cannot move without traffic signals. We must attend classes in order to learn by rote numbered steps toward love or how to breast-feed our baby. We justify anything, anything at all by the need to maintain our way of life. And then we go to the doctor and tell the professionals we have no life. We have a simple test for making decisions: our way of life, which we cleverly call our standard of living, must not change except to grow yet more grand. We have a simple reality we live with each and every day: our way of life is killing us." - Charles Bowden, Blood Orchid

"In social institutions, the whole is always less than the sum of its parts. There will never be a state as good as its people, or a church worthy of its congregation, or a university equal to its faculty and students." - Edward Abbey, A Voice Crying in the Wilderness: Notes from a Secret Journal

Video: A Working Man by Celtic Thunder