Well, to be fair to Gordon Brown, Marbury has clearly never led an organization and tried to force the people below him to do something they adamantly oppose doing.  No doubt, Brown when PM could have ordered the Cabinet Secretary to implement a public enquiry, but every single person in the chain of command could then have: (a) leaked the CabSec’s advice opposing the instruction, and/or (b) exercised their pocket veto to delay or prevent the enquiry happening, and/or (c) implemented it in a way which backfired upon Brown and the Cabinet. No rational manager tries to execute a policy his own staff vehemently oppose, even when, as appears to be the case here, he knows he has morality, the law, good governance, and the public interest all on his side.

For some time, I have been writing on these pages that the currently-fashionable paradigm of the Information Society is inadequate to describe what most of us do at work and play, or to describe how computing technologies support those activities (see, for example, recently here, with a collection of posts here).   Most work for most people in the developed world is about coordinating their actions with those of others  – colleagues, partners, underlings, bosses, customers, distributors, suppliers, publicists, regulators, und so weiter.   Information collection and transfer, while often important and sometimes essential to the co-ordination of actions,  is not usually itself the main game.

Given the extent to which computing technologies already support and enable human activities (landing our large aircraft automatically when there is fog, for example), the InfoSoc paradigm, although it may describe well the transmission of zeros and ones between machines, is of little value in understanding what these transmissions mean.  Indeed, the ur-text of the Information Society, Shannon’s mathematical theory of communications (Shannon 1948) explicitly ignores the semantics of messages!  In place of the InfoSoc metaphor, we need another new paradigm, a new way to construe what we are all doing.  For now, let me call it the Joint-Action Society, although this does not quite capture all that is intended.

I am pleased to learn that I am not alone in my views about InfoSoc.   I recently came across an article by the late Peter Martin, journalist, editor and e-businessman, about the lessons from that great disaster of privatization of Railtrack in the UK.  (In the 1980s and 90s, the French had grand projets while the British had great project management disasters.)  Here is Martin, writing in the FT in October 2001 (the article does not seem to be available online):

Railtrack had about a dozen prime contractors, which in turn farmed out the work to about 2,000 subcontractors.  Getting this web of relationships to work was a daunting task.  Gaps in communication, and the consequent “blame culture” are thought to be important causes of the track problems that led to the Hatfield crash which undermined Railtrack’s credibility.

.  .  .

These practical advantages of wholesale outsourcing rely, however, on unexamined assumptions.  It is these that the Railtrack episode comprehensively demolishes.

The first belief holds that properly specified contracts can replicate the operations of an integrated business.  Indeed, on this view, they may be better than integration because everyone understands what their responsibilities are, and their  incentives are clear and tightly defined.

This approach had a particular appeal to governments, as they attempted to step back from the minutiae of delivering public services.  British Conservative governments used the approach to break up monolithic nationalised industries into individual entities, such as power generators and distributors.

They put this approach into effect at the top level of the railway system by splitting the task of running the track and the signalling (Railtrack’s job) from the role of operating the trains.  It is not surprising that Railtrack, born into this environment, carried the approach to its logical conclusion in its internal operation.

.  .  .

In 1937, the Nobel prize-winning economist Ronald Coase had explained that companies perform internally those tasks for which the transactional costs of outsourcing are too high.

What fuelled the outsourcing boom of the 1990s was the second unexamined assumption – that the cost of negotiating, monitoring and maintaining contractual relationships with outsourcing partners had dropped sharply, thanks to the revolution in electronic communications.  The management of a much bigger web of contractors – indeed, the creation of a “virtual company” – became feasible.

In practice, of course, the real costs of establishing and maintaining contracts are not those of information exchange but of establishing trust, alignment of interests and a common purpose.  Speedy and cheap electronic communications have only a minor role to play in this process, as Coase himself pointed out in 1997.

.   .   .

And perhaps that is the most useful lesson from the Railtrack story: it is essential to decide what tasks are vital to your corporate purpose and to devote serious resources to achieving them.   Maintaining thousands of miles of steel tracks and stone chippings may be a dull, 19th century kind of task.   But as Railtrack found, if you can’t keep the railway running safely, you haven’t got a business.”

Reference:

Peter Martin [2001]: Lessons from Railtrack.  The collapse has demolished some untested assumptions about outsourcing.  Financial Times, 2001-10-09, page 21.

Claude E. Shannon [1948/1963]: The mathematical theory of communication. Bell System Technical Journal, October and November 1948.  Reprinted in:  C. E. Shannon and W. Weaver [1963]: The Mathematical Theory of Communication. pp. 29-125. Chicago, IL, USA: University of Illinois Press.

Technorati Tags: Information Society

If all you are doing is writing a blog or researching a story, perhaps you don’t ever appreciate this fact about work.  But anyone tasked with doing something other than writing knows it.   Seth Goodin thinks that within 10 years TV programs about office work will seem to be “quaint antiques”.  I bet him they will not at all.  Moreover, I bet the people in those offices will still be using paper, still having meetings, and still talking by the water-cooler.   In fact, while you’re placing my bets, put me down for 100 years, not 10.

If business were truly the self-interested, take-no-prisoners world of competition described in economics textbooks and assumed in mainstream economics, our lives would all be very different.  Fortunately, our world is mostly not like this.   One example is in telecommunications where companies compete and collaborate with each other at the same time, and often through the same business units.  For instance, British Telecommunications and Vodafone are competitors (both directly in the same product categories and indirectly through partial substitutes such as fixed and mobile services), and collaborators, through the legally-required and commercially-sensible inter-connections of their respective networks.  Indeed, for many years, each company was the other company’s largest customer, since the inter-connection of their networks means each company completes calls that originate on the other’s network; thus each company receives payments from the other.  Do you seek to drive your main competitor out of business when that competitor is also your largest customer?   Would you do this, as stupid as it seems, knowing that your competitor could retaliate (perhaps pre-emptively!) by disconnecting your network or reducing the quality of your calls that interconnect?  No rational business manager would do this, although perhaps an economist might. 

Nor would you destroy your competitors when you and they are sharing physical infrastructure  – co-locating switches in each other’s buildings, for example, or sharing rural cellular base stations, both of which are common in telecommunications.   And, to complicate matters, large corporate customers of telecommunications companies increasingly want direct access to the telco’s own switches, leading to very porous boundaries between companies and their suppliers.   Doctrines of nuclear warfare, such as mutually-assured destruction or iterated prisoners’ dilemma, are better models for this marketplace than the mainstream one-shot utility-maximizing models, in my opinion.

You might protest that telecommunications is a special case, since the product is a networked good – that is, one where a customer’s utility from a particular service may depend on the numbers of other customers also using the service.    However, even for non-networked goods, the fact that business usually involves repeated interactions with the same group of people (and is decidely not a one-shot interaction) leads to more co-operation than is found in an economist’s philosophy.   The empirical studies of hedge funds undertaken by sociologist Donald MacKenzie, for example, showed the great extent to which hedge fund managers rely in their investment decisions on information they receive from their competitors.  Because everyone hopes to come to work tomorrow and the day after, as well as today, there are strong incentives on people not to  mis-use these networks through, for instance, disseminating false or explicitly-self-serving information.  

It’s a dog-help-dog world out there!

Reference:

Iain Hardie and Donald MacKenzie [2007]:  Assembling an economic actor: the agencement of a hedge fund. The Sociological Review, 55 (1): 57-80.

Technorati Tags: economics, competition, telecommunications, mutually-assured destruction, iterated prisoners’ dilemma

Victor Barendse, Andreas von Blottnitz, Will Bobb, Gene La Borne, Judy Bradford, Jan Buettner, John Cornish, Don Day, Wanchai Ekraksasilpchai, John Griffiths, Neill Haine, Ben Hancox, Tony Hawkins, Michael Heath, Jin-Young Hwang, Walter Kamba, Mathieu Lasalle, Marian McEwin, Michael Orr, Maureen Piche, Jerry Rossi, Leanne Thomas, Dennis Trewin, Henry Vandemark, Don Warkentin, Richard Wetenhall.

Effective leadership is context-specific:  what works in one domain on one occasion may not work elsewhere or with the same people at other times.   However, in looking across the people whose management skills I have learnt from, I realize there are some common features which most share to a greater or lesser extent.   One is a sharp intelligence, which may be manifest in many diverse ways (verbally, mathematically, organizationally, etc).  A second feature is a marked ability to read the emotions of others and to sense the social dynamics of a group or a meeting.    Good managers know their audiences well.  A third feature is an ability to read their own emotions (a skill which is surprisingly uncommon) together with an ability to control the public expression of these emotions when it so behooves them;   most of the people I have listed would make good poker players.  A fourth feature is an integrity of purpose – enthusiasm, honesty, transparency, directness, fairness, a willingness to argue for positions, and a willingness to consider evidence before reaching conclusions.  Finally, all of these people are effective at getting things done – not a skill to be sneezed at, despite the generally low status that doing things has among the chatterati.

I spent the rest of my K-C career in advanced product development or new business identification, usually as a team leader, and sometimes as what Gifford Pinchot called an “Intrapreneur” – a corporate entrepreneur, driving new products from discovery to basis-for-interest to commercialization.  It’s the nature of many companies to prematurely dismiss ideas that represent what the world might want/need 5, 10 years out and beyond in favor of near-term opportunities – the intrapreneur stays under the radar, using passion, brains, intuition, stealth, any and every other human and material resource available to keep things moving.  It helps to have had some managers that often looked the other way.

. . .

As a senior product developer, and in the role of “intrapreneur” on Little Swimmers, I wore all the hats, technical and consumer, including hand-making many of the prototypes, making test product in machiladoras in July, performing materials testing, as well as the concept and positioning development work, consumer evaluations, whatever it took, taking the product through quantitative and volumetric concept-and-use testing and Basis For Interest.  When it came time for evaluations, the senior technical people who were my peers (PhD “Fellows”) did not regard the work as technically sophisticated enough for recognition or promotion in those ranks.  Since I was working for a senior business manager on the project, I didn’t have a technical champion for support.  I was caught in the middle.

There was simply no career path for the very senior level, creative, prolifically successful entrepreneurial product developer with a broad consumer-culture view. Business and Technical management were inappropriate (too right brained for me and actually took one out of the product development role), nor was the Fellow path appropriate (more for the highly technical).  I didn’t fit either path (this was true for other senior level product developers).  If my unique – and successful – methodologies and insights had been met with a broader willingness to understand, that might have offered some sense of fulfillment.”

Technorati Tags: Paula Rosch, Kimberly-Clark, product development

Let me start by repeating firmly what I said before (here abbreviated), as preface:

• Owners of companies (including the present British Government) have the legal and moral right to establish any legal payment policies they so wish. 
• People who fail should not be rewarded for that failure.

Then let me repeat this para:

Finally, in all the nonsense spoken about a “bonus culture” in banks, I have nowhere seen any discussion as to WHY bonus payments are common in the financial world.   The first reason is that financial markets are capricious:  despite all the boastful talk about skills and experience, and despite the multi-terabytes of computer memory, the massively-high bandwidths of connection, and the arrays of rocket scientists deployed, the taking of positions in markets is still a matter of taking views on the future, and betting these views against other views.   The future is uncertain, so bets can lose, as well as win,  and these two outcomes may happen regardless of the skills or expertise or resources applied to the taking of a view.  People may be just lucky or unlucky – even clever, experienced, well-resourced, cautious, nice people.    The second reason is that when bets win, they may win big.    If  a company makes hundreds of millions of dollars profit from a one or a handful of trades, it can seem most unfair to those deciding what trades to do that all of this capricious, windfall gain should accrue just to the shareholders.  Those doing the trading therefore ask, quite reasonably in my opinion, for a share of this windfall gain.   Most companies have then a choice:  give a few percent of these capricious windfalls to the staff doing the work as bonus payments, or risk losing the staff to the competitor down the street who will.   No rational, long-term manager would choose the latter option, and no rational, long-term shareholder would force him or her to.

There is another aspect to the business of the financial sector that I overlooked in this description.  For most of us working in companies, our actions have impacts on the revenues, costs and profits of the company only indirectly.  Typically, the larger the organization the more indirect the effects.  A product manager for one of the thousands of consumer products at, say, Proctor and Gamble, for instance may have great ideas for innovative product development, ideas which, when implemented, lead to massive increases in corporate revenues.  But she would not be able to develop these ideas, create the necessary support infrastructures (which may include product redesigns, or new manufacturing facilities, or new marketing campaigns) and then execute them, without help and support from a very large number of people; perhaps as many as tens of thousands of people would be involved for the most complex of products, from research scientists through to traveling salespeople in equatorial Africa.   Success in such environments requires real – and all too rare – skills at group-working, information sharing, socialization, co-ordination, complex project planning, and managing of others (in all directions, below, above and laterally), both inside one’s own company and in partner companies.  These abilities are required in addition to whatever linguistic and/or mathematical intelligence required (which can be considerable for any high-tech product and even for ordinary consumer durables) and so-called emotional intelligence.   This is a getting-things-done intelligence, a skill-set that otherwise very intelligent and successful people may lack, for example, academics, writers, medical professionals.

Strangely enough, few bankers, in my experience, need these getting-things-done abilities either, and few have them.  The large sums in finance, which generate the large bonuses, usually accrue (as I said above) to successful bets on the future.  To make such bets you need: (a) to take a view on the future (a view which may arise from sophisticated, complex and expensive computer modeling) and (b) money to bet with.  You don’t normally need a large team behind you, although computer modeling may require rare and specialised – and hence, expensive – skills. You don’t need much equipment, just a laptop and access to processing power (now rentable by the minute); you certainly don’t need a factory, or a global distribution network, or a boffin-filled R&D lab, as the product managers for P&G do.  Apart from the money used to bet with, you don’t need much money either.   You may need, as sociologist Donald MacKenzie has shown in his detailed fieldwork studies of financial institutions, a good network of contacts, both in your own organization and outside it, of people whom you trust you and who trust you; you need this network in order to be able to accurately predict financial market movements, and to predict how market participants would be likely to react to new information, in other words, to help you to take a view on the future.

So, suppose you work for a large financial institution in the City of London, betting on (say) US Dollar-to-Japanese Yen exchange rates.  You come into work, you read the newsfeeds, you look at the numbers, you talk with your network, you (or your team) do your computer simulations, you take a view of the future, and you place your bet.  (You may do this with any frequency, from every few weeks to every few minutes, depending on the market you are in and the strategies you running.)   The money you use to bet with belongs to your employer.  Perhaps you bet the value of the USD will rise in comparison to the Yen, as a result of the recent Japanese election.   Or perhaps you bet that most other exchange traders will bet that it will rise for this reason, and so you would profit from betting against them.  For whatever reason – good judgment, intuition, experience, clever algorithms, computer processing power, speed of reaction, personal network connectedness, luck, clever accounting, inside information, mojo, guidance from the beyond - your bets are successful, and thus you (and perhaps your small team) generate large revenues for your employer.   Unlike our friend at P&G, no one can say these revenues depended on the supportive and co-ordinated activities of hundreds or thousands of people working over months or years.  No one can say that your employer would have got the revenues anyway, even without you.  And given the few required inputs listed in the previous paragraph, no one can stop you walking out of your office one afternoon and offering your successful judgment (your view-taking ability) to some other employer with money to bet.  As the saying goes, the bank’s key assets walk out the front door each evening.

In other words, large bonuses exist in the financial world because large revenue streams exist which are directly traceable to the actions of a small number of people, and because not paying good bonuses to these people risks the employer losing the revenue streams.   None of this is evidence of malice, or evil, or some malcontent recalcitrance on the part of bankers, failing to reform despite the bailout.  It is the very nature of business under capitalism.  Employees are acting rationally and ethically in asking for such bonuses, and employers in giving them.  Large bonuses would exist in other industries if the conditions were right; indeed, they do, for senior managers in IPOs and acquisitions, or for Hollywood stars, able to guarantee large audiences for the opening weekends of films.  In both these cases, as with finance, large money streams can be traced directly to the actions of a small number of people.   If you were to make it illegal for banks to pay bonuses, then for consistency’s sake, you’d have to also tell JK Rowling to give up her millions.  Arguing that bonuses should not exist will be about as successful as arguing that water should not run downhill, and is, in my opinion, about as rational.

Reference:

Iain Hardie and Donald MacKenzie [2007]: Assembling an economic actor: the agencement of a Hedge Fund. The Sociological Review, 55 (1): 57-80.

Zero turnover means that no opportunities arise to attract, develop or retain highly skilled employees.”  

It’s always the damn employees who cause trouble for the proper functioning of the Human Resources Department.   How can HR possibly execute policies to retain valuable staff if nobody ever threatens to leave!?