Last week Indira Naidoo Harris was a guest host for the CBC Radio One program The Current, and spoke with Lanny Davis, former special legal counsel to Bill Clinton. “Conversation” may be the wrong word for the exchange; “interview” also seems to miss the mark. The topic of the exchange was Hillary Clinton’s appropriateness for the position of United States of America Secretary of State under president-elect Barack Obama.
Some “conversations” are difficult; many more difficult than they have to be. This exchange was clearly both, as pointed out by the National Post in print and online. Mr. Davis gave not an inch, and immediately began the “interview” by calling out the “innuendo” of the Harris’s introduction. He then demanded “facts” to support the allegations. Apparently, he would have settled for just one, but none were forthcoming. It was a strange moment when Harris tried to move on by empathizing as to “difficulties” that Davis must be having with the “issues.” It sounds like a suggested phrase from self-help book on “Active Listening.” Davis was not to be appeased: “give me the facts.”
It is good to hear an exchange where one side gives the other no benefit of the doubt, because, from my perspective, a number of these conversations don’t happen because of the promised contentiousness. This type of conflict, however, is the reality of pushing against resistance in the form of someone who will attack everything you say. This can be especially true if the exchange has an audience. It is not about how you deliver your message; it comes down to what you are saying. (But imagine if they had been e-mailing each other!)
These conversations are good practice for reaching out of our in-groups. I would suggest that often we rely on another’s trust (or disengagement from the situation) to get away with not supporting our position sufficiently, if at all. Pushback is good practice, and demonstrates engagement. I would hope that Ms. Harris learned from the exchange.
I don’t suggest that the answer is to prep for every interaction like you are speaking to the Fifth Estate, or The Current for that matter. Some situations, such as a job interview, can add a degree of healthy “defense” that drives us to spend some time fact checking in order to have our support at the ready. It doesn’t have to be contentious, but conflict can call out some ideas that may be unchallenged but can’t be well supported.
I was recently working with a group of purchasing professionals around effective communication of change messages. Understandably, the focus was on influencing and persuading others to buy into the value that can be created by supply chain-focused initiatives.
We were discussing the example presented by one of the members of the group, who was attempting to centralize purchasing, moving away from the status quo decentralized (ad hoc?) purchasing. Playing a combination of devil’s advocate and helpful outsider, I probed for some objective evidence. The idea that centralized purchasing was “good” and decentralized purchasing was “bad” seemed to be the crux of the argument. How far would that fly outside this group?
No small part of presenting information is providing appropriate support, and this is where the difficulty arose. What may seem “common sense” to a group of purchasing professionals will likely need a bit more behind it to garner buy-in from those in, for example, a sales function. The conundrum that many of us face in supporting to external groups is this: “I can’t understand why you don’t understand this.” We are tempted to try “dumbing it down,” but it may also simply require being ready to answer the question, “Why on Earth would I want to do that?” This question will not likely come from those already on board.
In this article on corporate social responsibility (CSR; potentially requiring a softer sell than procurement rigour), Prof. John Peloza describes the dynamic whereby the camp of those who champion the CSR cause are often talking to each other about their importance, rather than to the finance side of the business where decisions are made. Part of the language of finance is numerical support in the form of return on investment, return on equity and return on assets. He claims that no one in the CSR camp bothers to learn this language in order to engage the finance group in discussion. (And, why bother? We’d rather talk amongst ourselves anyway…) The same may apply to those working in supply chain.
Back to the original example: in light of the current financial situation and a collective cry for more accountability, it may be getting easier to make the case for centralized versus decentralized purchasing. Nonetheless, that case will have to be made to some people who prefer having flexibility in the purchases they make. Having worked in sales, I completely understand the preference for decentralized… and how a sales person might not understand why you don’t see it their way.
Effectively putting the case forward to these “out groups” requires attaching support to what could be “common sense” arguments. It demands going beyond, “It’s just better, OK? Trust me.” Oh, and don’t forget: try to not come across as condescending.
Quick tip: If you find someone from an “out group” who has come to “get it,” ask them to tell you what brought them around. Chances are this support will be appropriate to others in that group.
This originally appeared in the October 2008 e-Newsletter for the Canadian Supply Chain Sector Council (www.supplychaincanada.org).
Learning by doing is widely embraced as a driver of skill development. When I taught English in Japan, my objective was often to give people the tools, words, expressions, etc., that they needed to complete a “production” exercise (e.g having learned and practiced adverbs of frequency, students would create a weekly routine for, say, Paris Hilton when she is in jail. “Well she always checks the cutlery before she eats, she often asks for another blanket” and so on). Entertainment is never a small part of education.
Research suggests that when you are forced to “teach” something, your retention of that material increases dramatically over simply having to “do” something. (I would argue that my depth of comprehension of English jumped during my days of teaching it.) This is where the “reflective journal” fits into many skill development regimes and curricula. My MBA students have to keep a journal to share thoughts with me, or more specifically, show me where they are able to apply the learnings. The good ones could be used to teach others.
For example, in the course, we discuss acceptable alternatives (BATNAs, positions, et al) and the importance of thinking things through. My interactions earlier this month at Home Depot provide a good example of how this fits in the real world:
I bought a chandelier that had to be specially ordered. (”Special order” meaning, I think, items that had less than hotcake-like velocity in selling and therefor were stored elsewhere. Makes sense for the big box business model.) When I got the chandelier home, one of the glass fixtures was broken. Calling suggested that the only alternative was to take it back to the store to figure out what to do. I realized that my overriding objective was to make this trip to Home Depot my last for this particular transaction. (Note: This would be trip number 3, and still no chandelier.)
As a win-win guy, I ran through some possible scenarios. Maybe I return it; maybe they give me the glass bowl from the floor model (of which there was one); maybe they have some ideas that had not occurred to me. I was open to the discussion, but I also decided that I was not prepared to go back to the store again. Had I been passionately attached to the chandelier, my tune might have been quite different.
Not surprisingly, Plan A from HD Customer Service was “we’ll just order you another one; call in a week or 10 days and it should be here for you to pick up.” Sorry, three trips is my limit. A return should have involved a “restocking fee” (such are the rules for special order items), but this was quickly conceded, with a sigh that I suspect was intended to elicit guilt.
From a customer service perspective, I could not have been happier. I got what I wanted, which was to walk out of the store not needing to go back. From a negotiation perspective, there was a lost opportunity for customer services staff to keep the sale. Would it be possible to take an unbroken fixture off the floor model and send me on my way? I did not need to suggest it, so I didn’t. That may have been closer to a win-win, but in this situation, I am OK with win-lose as long as I am the former.
That may be lofty for the expectations of customer service staff at a big box store, but value has to come from anywhere you can get it, even if you are Home Depot. In this case, clarity of objectives on both sides, coupled with a solution-minded approach may have enabled value creation for everyone involved. That might not be too much to ask for/expect/instill in customer-facing staff in any business.
Post script: I ended up going to a local lighting store, who were able to arrange installation through an informal channel. This was one issue I hadn’t thought through. I can only imagine my experience in “learning by doing” a chandelier installation.
There is a risk in oversimplifying issues to the point of a binary explanation (e.g. this or that). The temptation to oversimplify is obvious when presenting the issue to a wider audience who likely have yet to pay attention to the issue: descriptions become easier (e.g. it’s like this OR it’s like that), and encouraging agreement and disagreement is more likely (you are with us OR you are against us). The inherent danger is that these oversimplifications take deeper root.
Such binary identification with words is described as religious attachment to the resistance to “private” involvement in Canada’s health care system by Robert Ouellette of the CMA. At some point, an argument was being made that a 100% public system (conceivably the “Canadian” system) was superior to a “free market/services to the wealthy” system employed (conceivably the “American” system). “So it really is pretty simple,” goes the explanation to those whose decision/votes one is trying to woo, “You either support a Canadian system, or we risk deteriorating into, well, you know what.”
This type of positioning may be necessary to garner support for a cause, but when the binary support can cloud the issue. In Alberta, Ralph Klein famously put forward the “Third Way” after clearly describing the other two alternatives, one being unacceptable, the other impossible. But the same forces of binary division happen when you talk about the an “Alberta solution” vs. an “Ontario solution.” The required changes in the health care system are not about Alberta vs. Ontario, Canada vs. the U.S. or private vs. public; it is about finding a manageable way to meet the growing strains on the system.
Words are necessary to describe these things, but there has to be a tolerance for ambiguity of language along the way. To commit to a strategy, you have to describe the path, but “this or that” language has to be avoided for fear that it does take root. In winning people over, it is tempting to simplify language, but some things will never be simple. Health care is one of those things; so is government and economic policy. Is anyone prepared to get specific on the “change” that either McCain or Obama will bring? Likely not until January.
Type “Competition + Process Improvement” into the News section of your favourite search engine, and you will likely get a story (or a press release) that talks about a company overcoming new-millennium hyper-competition. The focus is on the solution (especially if you land in a press release), but one can imagine the work that goes into getting to solution. Not to mention, sustaining it. You may be living that “work” right now.
The classic problem-solving methodology is very straightforward: (1) identify the problem, (2) generate possible solutions, and (3) pick the best one. A prerequisite is to maintain a rational and objective focus, along the lines of “Getting-to-YES” style negotiating. Emotions cloud those operating “in the moment,” but in situations where parties (willingly or not) have to collaborate, distortion can come from many different – and surprising – places.
Rightly or wrongly, we have all pushed back (or been pushed) with a challenge to the legitimacy of our interests. Parents talk about “needing vs. wanting” ice cream after dinner (remember all those children that go to bed hungry); in the workplace, we ask people to separate “nice to have” from “need to have.” In all of this, the message is that “need” trumps “want,” which may cause some subtle limitations to successful results.
Too often, “need” identifies one potential solution (”We need a better inventory system”), while “want” can get to the root goal (”We want to remain competitive with as few changes as possible”). The wording and semantics may seem a better fit with strategic visioning than with everyday discussions, but think of the “want” behind some of these “need” statements:
- “We need more budget to do this project.”
- “We need to reduce head count.”
- “We need support from management/other divisions/the union.”
At the risk of treading into a discussion on inspirational leadership, visions talk about wants (or hope) that would offer almost-universal solutions. Each of our above “need” messages offers a solution that will become a problem for at least one other party:
- Extra dollars come from someone else’s budget;
- Head-count reduction hits “Joe Plumber” pretty hard, and
- Support takes other people’s time and energy.
The first thing to identify is a problem that we can all address. The corporate vision statement may do it, but the responsibility may fall to leaders and micro-leaders.
- “We want this company/unit to remain in business/this country.”
- “We want to reach a sustainable operating size.”
- “We want our company to be more responsive to external change.”
Far from being flowery, these may convey the real, wider-reaching need for change and improvement.With a recent MBA class of mine, the discussion focussed on an idealistic entrepreneur’s encounter with venture capitalists (from CBC’s Dragon’s Den). In the “identify the problem” stage, the initial class consensus was “she needs money,” (which, by the way, is the whole reason for going on the show in the first place, right?). I would (and did) argue that a focus on what you want to accomplish changes the discussion from “give me your money” to “do you want to help me do what I want to do?”
The difference can be very subtle, but can be extremely important. The latter offers more options, including, for example, referrals to other contacts or organizations if the dollar return happens not to be there. Money is one answer, and it may be the only one. You risk not finding out for sure unless you explain your vision. It is not simply a matter of substituting words (find and replace “need” for “want” won’t do it). Try switching the approach to the problem…from mine to ours. Some leaders/vision statements do it well; other times, those in the day-to-day discussion have to help identify shared problems.
This originally appeared in the October 2008 e-Newsletter for the Canadian Supply Chain Sector Council (www.supplychaincanada.org).
Today’s Toronto Star has an interesting take on a bill regarding apologies that is currently being considered at Queen’s Park. The bill apparently frees a doctor to say “sorry” for a mistake or outcome, without the fear of having the apology brought into court as an admission of guilt. It is an intriguing proposal, which promises to reduce the number of cases that go to court, because an apology may be all the person needs to forget and move on.
This flavour of apology resembles decaf coffee and light beer: all the good, with none of the bad. The problem is that–and coffee- and beer-drinkers know this–it can’t be the same.
Recall in April 2001 when a U.S. spy plane crashed in China, the Chinese authorities cried out for an apology. What they got was a declaration that the U.S. was “sorry that it happened.” I was living in Japan and the time, working as a translator, and remember the discussion about the translation: “See, he said ’sorry” to them.” True, and somehow he managed not to apologize. Such are the nuances of international diplomacy.
Here, however, we are all speaking English. This bill could do one of two things to exchanges where doctors have to convey bad news to patients.
#1 – Doctors who are genuinely sorry with the result (even though they surely explained the risks going in) can relax and communicate to a fellow human being that they really wish it could have worked out better.
Note: this has the potential to ring very hollow, even if the intent is true.
#2 – We will see a rise in no-risk lip-service apologies designed to quiet a patient who might otherwise fight back and demand retribution from the system that failed to beat the odds, or at least cover the spread, in a medical procedure. (This is the provincial NDP’s position, as I understand it.)
I think that the benefits from scenario #1 will outweigh the cynical suspicions of #2, so it is a good development. I also think that it is too bad that we have to split the individual apology from the institutional apology. Either way, we lose a bit of the human element, but we all have to minimize the downside. This may be a smart trade off that leads to a better working system.Another option might be for doctors to preface apologies by saying, “The opinion I am about to express comes from my individual feelings, and in no way reflects those of this institution or my profession.”
There are two questions arise whenever a change initiative hits a snag that requires a decision: 1) “Who can make the call?” and, 2) “Who knows best?” Such is the interplay between authority and expertise in moving change forward. The manner in which individuals manage this interplay can have drastic effects on the success or failure of any given improvement initiative.
Authority – Who’s in charge?
Things are straightforward when the person who should make the decision has the visibility to come up with the best answer. Small operations, where the founder/owner knows every detail of every process, supplier, procedure, etc., will fall into this category. It is not long, however, before organizations reach a size where authority and expertise sit with different individuals. In the SMB space, as well as with larger corporations, necessary functional divisions make it impossible for those at the top of the organizational chart to see everything beneath them. Culturally and structurally these organizations have to create an environment where information flows up and down. Also, different layers of management can create a dynamic by which those at different managerial rungs will be tempted to cover their respective backsides, on the off chance that results are not as favourable as expected.
Two things to watch out for in the authority structure are:
1.Are those in charge accessing all the information that they need to make decisions?
2.Are those in authority taking responsibility for the decisions they make (or should be making)?
“No” to either of these will hurt implementation in every case.
Expertise – Who knows best?
There is a human tendency to over-recognize ones own expertise (and I say this as an expert in interpersonal communications in change environments…). In process improvement projects, however, those “doing the work” can add significant value by sharing their “on the ground” expertise. Familiarity with the day-to-day operations provides excellent visibility to identify areas for cost and/or time savings. These process experts may not, however, have visibility for the overall operations or the wider improvement initiatives that are underway.
Good information comes from tapping into the expertise at all levels of the organization. This may sound easy but can get hung up on a couple of areas:
1.Managers who have “come through the ranks” may have to realise that times might have changed;
2.In engaging the “rank and file” managers must foster trust and manage expectations (e.g. just because I am asking you what you think, doesn’t necessarily mean we are going to do it.)
3.Once the decisions are made, managers have the responsibility to “close the loop” with those whose expertise has been tapped.
So what?
Authority and expertise play different and important roles in enabling the most effective changes to take place. The interplay has the potential to slow or stop some of the best initiatives from smooth implementation. I would suggest that more responsibility sits with those in formal authority to reduce the interpersonal noise that habitually arises. This type of “micro leadership” can pay macro dividends as the right information moves to the top of the pile.
This originally appeared in the September 2008 e-Newsletter for the Canadian Supply Chain Sector Council (www.supplychaincanada.org).
I was recently taking my negotiations class through the basics of Power (can someone make you do something?), Rights (am I allowed to do this?), and Interests (what do I want out of this?). In my presentation of the information, I was preoccupied with the previous days events. The issue that was on my mind was transportation in cities, specifically bicycling in Toronto.
When it comes to cars versus bicycles, there is not much confusion about who holds the power when the rubber hits the road…or the shoulder blade hits the sidewalk, which happened to be the case. In terms of rights, I think I had every right to be biking along side the snake of traffic that crawled south on Mount Pleasant last week. Although the conversation that I had that evening with one of Toronto’s finest suggested maybe I can’t pass cars on the right… Hmmm.
Like most of these situations, Interests are the highest leverage place to start. From the cyclist’s prospective, they enjoy physical exercise, dodging gas prices and parking rates, and all the other counter-culture benefits they seek. Stepping away from the issue, the ability for more people to bike in the city would reduce the number of cars on the street and the demand on downtown parking spots, both of which would be in the interest of drivers. It is a tough one but part of the solution will be convincing drivers that cyclists should be welcome on the streets, which means you have to look for them when you are making that last-minute right hand turn.
School is back in for lots of people, including, yours truly. Among my back-to-school activities was spending a day this week in the Schulich Centre for Teaching Excellence. It lived up to its name in providing a high bar, as well as insight, tools, resources and support to clear the bar. Following the “diversity” that underpins all aspects of the school, instructors are encouraged to meet/exceed expectations in any way they see fit.
Perhaps not surprisingly, there was lots of discussion on how to handle the use of laptops (the entire facility has wireless Internet access), and presumably other communication devices in the class. Just like the real world, there is no formal policy, and the guidance from experienced faculty covered the gamut, including one instructor who said that a full out ban was the best answer. Comparable rules in the workplace are not unheard of (e.g. hand over your device to the Blackberry Check before you enter the meeting… don’t lose that ticket!).
What to do?
For those of you taking my course this semester, here is what you can expect. In the spirit of “dialogue,” we will clarify expectations on both sides, and see if we can agree upon (negotiate) some behaviours that support meeting those expectations. I have no idea if it will work but I do have a strong BATNA. I would suggest that students show up with pens and paper just in case.
For those of you not taking the course, I will keep you posted on any agreement that we reach and detail it here, if possible. I am not expecting anything groundshaking, nor do I think this approach is extremely innovative. In most settings, I think that the behaviours and norms develop, but I hope this dialogue can clarify and accelerate a healthy balance while meeting needs and expectations of all parties. I know of some organizations that are starting to encourage these same dialogues.
Maybe we are onto something here.
I recently returned from a trip to Japan, where I lived and worked for a number of years earlier in my career. As much as globalization can have a dulling effect on culture (internationally and corporately), first-hand contact always highlights some of the starker differences.
It was not long before I was reminded of Japan’s underlying excellence in quality and customer service in public transit. My train from the airport into the city was two minutes late leaving: a thunderstorm had disabled a major station in downtown Tokyo. The apology and explanation, in formally polite language, took both verbal and written forms almost immediately. Restaurant service in Japan has also always impressed me given that there is no tipping, but as a foil to all overgeneralization, we had really bad service one night at dinner.
Nonetheless, my experience working at Tokyo Disneyland around the turn of the millennium provided examples of a strong fit between culture and process improvement. The director of food services for Tokyo Disneyland at the time told me that the baseline for culinary hygiene in Japan was equal to/if not greater than that of the United States. This did not obviate his role in maintaining Disney standards with the introduction of new and innovative food venues, but it certainly lessened that number of food health issues that required diligent oversight.
In contrast, the early days of Disneyland Paris offer insight into cultural clashes when Disney attempted to impose a strict dress code on a French workforce.
Many different attributes contribute to corporate culture, including historical issues, industry traits, geographic location, workforce make-up, etc. My conversations with clients often include reference to culture in terms of the VISION (e.g. “We want to build a customer-focused culture.”) and/or the STATUS QUO (e.g. “We have a real engineering culture.”). Both are important to identify. Once identified, you can start to evaluate the type of change required.
A shift within a culture (e.g. introducing a food preparation technique to an already hygiene-conscious staff) is much less daunting than a shift of the culture (e.g. banning any form of facial hair on male staff in France). Either way, leadership and communication will play an important role in eventual success. Both scenarios need overt support—by actions and words—from formal and informal leaders. Long-term consistency in this is essential for change in the latter case to truly take hold.
Many of the improvements that promise operational effectiveness necessitate cultural change. This never comes easily. A hard look at the existing culture, and a clear vision, can provide a sense of what you are up against.
This originally appeared in the July 2008 e-Newsletter for the Canadian Supply Chain Sector Council
(www.supplychaincanada.org).
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