An Overview of the Four Color Groups
YOU’LL GET THE MOST OUT OF this book if you learn how to recognize people of other Color types. This tour of the (fictitious) Prism Company offers clues to help Color code your boss, co-workers, dates, mates, friends, and family.
At the Gold department entrance, a motion-sensor-activated sign lights up when you approach, requesting your visitor’s pass. A card swipe machine reads all your data—name, reason for visit, time of entry—and unlocks the door.
Inside is a reception area with elegant wood paneling, several classical oil paintings, and immaculate deep pile carpet. The tone is hushed. Behind a large, raised desk is a receptionist wearing a crisp business suit. Her desk has her name and title on a square wood and brass plate, next to a discreet bouquet of mixed flowers. She nods you into the department corridor for your tour. It has taken you less than a minute to start your visit.
On your right is a bulletin board with the slogan “Responsibility and Accountability Lead to Money and Security” displayed across the top. Although the sounds of work are all around you, everything seems hushed and well under control. All employees are wearing tailored suits, and most are at their desks doing paperwork. Computer screens flicker with spreadsheets or accounting software.
Down the corridor, each employee has an office, all of which are decorated in tasteful muted color schemes. No one seems to be absent, yet no desk has any clutter on it. Apart from family photos, nothing but the current moment’s work is evident anywhere. Filing cabinets predominate, which reveal highly organized files with plenty of room to spare. Everyone’s clock, you notice, is set to precisely the same time.
People greet you in a dignified, well-mannered way, but stay focused on their tasks. You notice functions like business analysis, accounting, budgets, customer service, production scheduling, and manufacturing project planning.
A conference room near the middle holds a large oval table of impeccably shined mahogany. A schedule of the week’s meetings is posted in a frame next to the door. Someone of good and traditional taste has designed this room. Pens are in holders on the center of the table. The well-hidden wastebasket is empty. Windows behind the velvet curtains are crystal clean.
You’ve been allotted twenty minutes for your tour of the Gold Department, and your time is almost up. You are once again asked to swipe your visitor’s pass to record the time of your exit.
You leave with the impression that the Gold Department has its tasks well under control, and its employees are not only well-disciplined, but proud of it.
You now stand facing a stark blue door. It gives the impression you are about to embark on an interstellar journey. This notion builds as your forefinger is requested for a fingerprint ID and your right eye for a retinal scan. Your magnetic-striped visitor’s pass now seems quaint and unnecessary.
The door suddenly opens in four different directions to create an entry port. The receptionist is wearing a plain but well-made blue suit. His jacket is off and the sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up. His demeanor is that of a college professor—serious, distracted, attempting to be helpful while multitasking.
Digital images flash around the reception area walls. Several feeds of science and history channels run across multiple video screens. There is an antiseptic smell in the air that reminds one of a laboratory. One full wall is devoted to highly technical, leather-bound print reference materials.
While your Blue Department tour is open-ended in terms of time, the receptionist instructs you to “keep simplistic and obvious questions to a minimum” when talking to employees, “so as not to disturb those in strategic or problem-solving modes.”
Above their bulletin board is a slogan that says “Pushing the Boundaries.” Thinking you are about to encounter characters like Data in Star Trek, you are surprised to see a man in a cashmere suit wearing a silk tie of muted colors. He introduces himself as the Head of Product Trend Research. He pulls you into a meeting being held in an open “Brainstorming Room” and the group there asks you several questions to be answered “from the viewpoint of an average person.”
Each answer you give elicits intense and pointed debate among the brainstormers. As they refer to you in the third person, you feel a bit bewildered; they don’t even notice as you slip back out into the corridor to continue your tour.
Some cubicles are crowded with piles of research materials. Some are neat, some are not.
Everyone seems to be pushing his or her intellects to the limit to prove some point. Scientific and high-tech jokes and puns elicit short barks of laughter. Mostly, employees’ eyes glitter from the stimulation of new and far-reaching concepts. You find it odd that half the employees are dressed in expensive designer outfits while the other half look quite academic and understated; most all suit jackets hang off the backs of chairs.
The conference room is as high tech as the reception area. A large screen for videoconferencing and computer presentations dominates one end of the room; laptop computers, all wired into the middle of the table, are available at each seat. The seats seem to be experiments in ergonomics, with fantastic shapes and very lightweight materials. You are startled to see Nobel Prizes displayed here; you’ve never seen one before.
You walk out into the corridor, past more cubicles. One reveals a man with an intensely knitted brow, staring up at the ceiling, fingers touching in a pyramid on his desk. An empty piece of paper and a pencil await. As you pass, he springs to life, frantically recording ideas that seem to be coming all too fast. His function reads Strategic Planning. Other departments you see are research, long-term marketing, computer programming, analytics, science lab, or abstract reasoning.
You are left with the impression that when Prism Company needs a new idea, research, or long-term strategy, they are in excellent hands here. But unless you are intellectually quick, this department is an intimidating place to be.
You fingerprint and retinal scan yourself out of the Blue Department. It has taken you an hour to complete your tour here.
As you search your pockets for the almost-forgotten visitors’ pass, you bump unexpectedly into a tall, wise-looking woman in a black turtleneck. Her suit is a tapestry of rich jewel tones. Her eyes are deep and gently inquiring. You and she are standing right outside the entrance to the Green Department.
“I’m presuming you are looking for your pass?” she asks. “They can be a nuisance to find.” You finally locate it and she smiles. “So, we have an official visitor now! Lovely, lovely!” She looks deeply into your eyes; you get the feeling that she has seen into your soul and taken the measure of your character through your handshake.
“The Blue Corridor unsettled you, didn’t it?” she asks, rhetorically. “Well, you seem like a safe enough person to admit in here. Come in and I’ll arrange for some tea.”
She opens the Green Department’s entry door, which wasn’t locked. This reception area is the lushest yet. Curved couches and deeply cushy silk-covered chairs in beautiful rich hues are arranged in several conversation areas. Sculptures of crystal and iron sit in the center of low coffee tables. Beautifully arranged modern paintings hang alongside ones of mythical theme.
“We have a guest!” the lady at the Green door calls. She smiles at you as she heads back out. You realize she is actually the security person for this department, intuitively judging if someone should be admitted.
“Well, hello, welcome! I’m the Department Head, and these are my Section Motivators! And you are…?” The Department Head shakes your hand warmly as you exchange introductions; you are impressed and flattered to be greeted by top brass, although you wonder briefly what a Section Motivator is.
The Department Head guides you to her office. Behind her glass desk is framed the slogan “Productivity Happens with Motivation and Collaboration.”
“If there’s anything you want to ask as we go, certainly feel free. We don’t limit your questions or your time here! I really believe we have something to learn from everyone who walks through here.” All the Section Motivators smile and you feel more relaxed than you did when trying to self-censor stupid questions in the Blue Department.
You sit with her on an antique Victorian sofa. A Section Motivator brings you a generous mug of hot water and a basket of fine teas.
As you steep your chosen brew, the Section Motivators introduce themselves—Client Management, Human Resources and Training, Communications/Public Relations, Graphic Arts, Organizational Development, Marketing/Sales. When you ask what a Section Motivator is, the Public Relations person explains that each section is egalitarian and the Motivators, who would be Section Heads in other departments, have the sole role of motivating all workers in their areas. You nod, wondering how they do that. Their confident smiles indicate they not only know how, but do it well and enjoy it.
You turn down offers of fruit and nuts, curious to explore this very different department. The corridor is crowded full with talking employees. Laughter is everywhere. Sometimes, people look at you with such friendly interest that they bump into someone else! Then they laugh, apologize, and continue on.
Flowers, plants, aquariums, and miniature water fountains leave only small open spaces for work. Walls and furniture feature interesting, sometimes avant garde, color combinations. Clocks are either fast, slow, or have stopped altogether.
Computers are mostly off; those that are on feature email or graphics programs or word processing in the writers’ offices.
The conference room is packed with employees, some in designer outfits and some in bohemian dress. The conference table is round, and no one appears to be leading the conversation, yet consensus seems to happen naturally. They are working out an issue of miscommunication with a client on a video screen, and all are working hard to achieve harmony. You slip past, wishing all businesses would be that concerned about their customers.
You get to the end of the corridor and walk through an impressive display of notable Prism Company graphic pieces framed on the walls. You hear someone giving a younger employee constructive mentor-style feedback and see that workers here are very into what they’re doing.
The mentor looks your way as you head toward the exit. “Hope you enjoyed your visit with us!” An outstretched handshake and sincere smile accompany this farewell as you walk out the exit door, two hours after entering.
You are left feeling that the Prism Company enjoys a glowing public image. The Green Department’s interpersonal skills turn negative interchanges into opportunities to create award-winning customer service. The productivity and continuing revenue streams it creates, although hard to measure, are believed to be quite significant.
At the Red Department you see a video monitor on the right side of the door. A professionally done internal company news program engages your interest. You are startled when the screen flickers and a female face appears. “Hello! Do you have your visitor’s pass?”
After a moment to collect yourself, you fumble for the pass and hold it toward the screen. “Thanks! I’m clicking you in!” The screen flickers back to the news feed. You wonder where the camera was that sent your image back and what other surprises await you.
The Red reception area seems like a private club. Most of its walls contain leather-bound books of history or technical reference titles. One corner is devoted to glass cases full of sports trophies. Several pieces by world-renowned sculptors stand on pedestals. Original framed comic art pieces by Harvey Kurtzman and others take pride of place on conspicuous wall areas, along with the Reds’ framed slogan “Chaos Contained! Let’s Do It Now!” One Baccarat crystal ashtray holds the cold remains of an expensive cigar. In the center is an aquarium teeming with exotic specimens.
There doesn’t appear to be a receptionist. The woman who requested your pass walks in, dressed in a colorful designer suit. “Go on in, ask anybody anything,” she says with a wave of her hand and a quick grin. She strides athletically down the hall without waiting for you.
You notice it’s not a corridor at all; after a short row of private offices it’s an open bullpen with many desks. Most of the private offices have their doors shut; their occupants all appear deep in thought with notes or mechanical objects the focus of their concentration.
In the bullpen, some people have their feet up on their desks. They look like they’re amusing themselves while waiting for something. Desks are decidedly messy with piles, sports memorabilia, family photos, and souvenirs from exotic vacations. One impatient and frustrated person is bravely cleaning out an overstuffed file cabinet. His discard pile is a breeding ground for paper airplanes, constructed apparently to tease him by co-workers not burdened with filing duties. “My turn to file,” he grumbles to you. “We all hate it, so we take turns. My lucky day.”
“We’ve got a network crash, people, let’s go, let’s go!” someone shouts, and in the space of thirty seconds a quarter of the Red Department whips on their jackets and heads for the door. You see functional titles like Crisis Manager, Network Integration Specialist, and Computer Repair on the vacated desks. “Saved by the crash! This is great!” says the file cleaner and, dropping everything, rushes to join them. Everyone looks energized and eager as they exit.
Computers left behind flicker with frozen video games and entrepreneurial business plan software. The only working clocks you see are in the upper corners of those computer screens. But a number of remaining employees, you notice, wear expensive watches.
You become curious about the three large enclosed rooms that exist in this department. One is the Video Department from which the news feed emanates. Another is right next to the desks of people with the titles Contract Negotiator and Manager of Short-Term Marketing. You go inside this one to find a gourmet kitchen and well-appointed executive dining room. A chef is busy making shrimp canapés. “Important client coming in for a contract signing,” he explains. “Little shrimp for the big fish!” He grins, and you laugh at his deadpan humor.
You begin to notice that everybody here talks in short, crisp sentences. Nor do they sit still for long.
The third big room is the Red conference room. Inside, a well-appointed leather couch and a number of leather club chairs, all on well-hidden wheels, allow for any number of meeting arrangements. It would be difficult for a prospective client not to be impressed by the effortlessly upscale comfort and flexible arrangements afforded by this room. Within seconds, it could accommodate a meeting of 25 or an intimate gathering of two or three.
A well-dressed woman wearing a Promotion Director title badge walks in. “Sorry I wasn’t around when you came in,” she says extending her hand. “I was discovering a network crash! Now I can let the experts enjoy their crisis.”
She briefly describes some of the functions of the Red Department—negotiations, franchising, contracting, investigations, computer services, and manufacturing. “We prefer our problems short-term and tangible!” she says. “We leave the long-term stuff to the Greens and Blues.”
Heading out the door, you see a group of people up ahead engaged in a heated conversation. “Take the risk, Jones! What are you, some kind of conformist wuss? There’s no room for that here. I’ll bet you anything that my widget beats your ball bearing any day in Wiley’s application! Let’s put it on the line and see!” You step around them gingerly as they get more competitive with each other, but you sense there’s camaraderie behind the challenges.
As you approach the exit door two and a half hours after entering, there is another video monitor showing the corporate news feed. The same face flickers on, requesting that you put your pass in the slot below. As you do, you thank the person for a very enjoyable and fascinating visit. She smiles a quick smile and says, “You’re welcome!” before the news feed returns. You’re out the door and into the parking lot with a lot of impressions to sort out about the diverse and fascinating Prism Company.
You can see why the Prism Company is such a successful enterprise. No one seems to be working in a job he or she hates; the departmental environments all seem to bring out the best in those who work there. You decide if you ever start a company, you will try to follow the example of the Prism Company, and maximize productivity through the best placement of natural talent.
Most companies don’t run like the Prism Company. But that should not detract you from finding your own best “department,” with the help of Chapter 2’s self-assessment questionnaire and your personality profile chapter.
The Prism Company can help you figure out the Colors of others as you walk into their work spaces. You can tell a lot by how they dress; what is, or is not, on their desks. Try it with your boss and read about his or her Color; your interactions should improve immediately.