PART THREE
Rally
THE DRAWING BOARD
One week. That’s all the time Jude had to make a breakthrough because that’s when his next workshop was scheduled to take place at Children’s Hospital. He immediately became almost obsessed with figuring out the “silo thing,” as he and Theresa came to refer to it, reading everything he could get his hands on having anything to do with organizational politics.
But Jude would not find his answer in any book. It would find him, in a more frightening way that he could ever have imagined.
ALARM
Jude did not sleep much after the debacle at the Madison. In fact, he had not been sleeping well ever since Brian called to announce an end to his consulting assignment at JMJ. Now, in addition to his financial worries, Jude couldn’t stop thinking about the silo problem. Add to that his wife’s growing discomfort at night, and it wasn’t much of a surprise that Jude was awake when it all started happening.
It was 4:32 A.M. Jude would not forget that. Theresa had been shifting and groaning off and on throughout the night, which wasn’t completely new given the size of the babies inside her and their increasing penchant for kicking. But something was different on this night, and more than an hour before Jude’s alarm usually rang, Theresa sat up in bed, wincing in pain.
“Are you okay?” Jude asked.
Theresa nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” She wasn’t convincing.
And then they saw blood on the sheets.
Realizing that she was in no position to walk, Jude called 911—and said a prayer while they waited.
Seven minutes later the ambulance was out front, and twelve minutes later they were well on their way to John Muir Medical Center, which was just eight miles from the Cousins’ new home.
For a moment Jude wondered how he and Theresa would get home from the hospital, given that they were arriving in an ambulance. But his logistical concern disappeared when Theresa’s pain increased. As the EMT ministered to Theresa, Jude held her hand and smiled, trying to reassure her.
In minutes, they arrived at the emergency room, and the EMTs rolled Theresa through the wide doors, where they were greeted by two nurses and an administrative attendant of some kind.
Jude described to them what had been happening, and the administrative person asked him questions about Theresa’s condition and personal information. Name, address, insurance, and related issues.
Theresa was now in the ER, where doctors and nurses were calmly but intensely sprinting around, taking her temperature and pulse and a dozen other diagnostics related to her and the babies. All the while, a nurse was explaining to Jude what was happening, though he wasn’t digesting much of it, lost instead in watching his wife’s face and praying harder than he had ever prayed in his life. And then the doctor turned away from Theresa to speak to her husband.
“She’s fine for now, and the babies are too. But I’m calling in Dr. Andrew Luke from the birthing center to take over. He’s on site and will have a better idea of what to do.”
Without having to be told, one of the nurses was on the phone and Jude could hear her. “Hi, this is Jean down in ER. We need Luke right away. We’ve got a woman a little over seven months pregnant with mild bleeding. Thanks.”
Five minutes later Dr. Luke arrived. He spoke to the ER doctor for a minute, and then went right over to his new patient.
“Hi, Theresa.” Smiling at her and taking her hand, he looked over at the babies’ heart monitors and the ultrasound computer screen that had just been set up. After no more than fifteen seconds, he nodded his head at Theresa and looked around the room, settling on Jude.
“Are you her husband?”
Jude nodded but couldn’t seem to say anything.
In a quick but reassuring way, he explained, “I’m Dr. Luke. Everything looks fine right now. But we’re going to take your wife to surgery just in case.”
“In case what?” Jude asked, a little more abruptly than he had intended.
“In case we can’t keep the babies from coming.”
Jude froze. “You mean from being born?”
Dr. Luke smiled, and then turned toward one of the nurses. “Let’s get into the O.R. right away.” One of them went to make a phone call, while another logged on to a computer. “And call Dr. Schmitz and ask him to meet me there in ten minutes.”
As people scattered, one of the nurses yelled across the room with an edge to her voice, “Janet, get back over here! We need to order a magnesium drip and start a new IV!” Jude looked over to where the nurse had yelled, and saw another nurse, who most certainly was Janet. Without the slightest reaction to the abrupt order, she quickly and unceremoniously made a telephone call, apparently to the O.R., while simultaneously preparing some sort of document.
“What’s a magnesium drip?” He asked the question to no one in particular.
As Janet hung up the phone, she calmly explained that it was something that could help a woman hold off giving birth.
Within minutes two nurses or orderlies—Jude didn’t know what the terms really meant—came into the room, moved Theresa onto a gurney, and began to roll her toward an exit in the emergency room. At the door, a man dressed like a security guard took over for one of the nurses, who disappeared after brushing Theresa’s hair from her eyes and saying, “You’re going to be fine.”
Before Jude knew what was happening, two more nurses appeared, one of whom was monitoring a machine that they rolled beside Theresa, while the other was filling out forms and directing what little traffic was in the hallways at 5:15 A.M.
Jude quickly moved alongside his wife’s entourage to be with her as they proceeded down the hallway. He held her hand as they gracefully and speedily moved her to the elevators, then up to the fourth floor and over to the birthing center.
As they emerged through the doors, a nurse dressed in a flowery pink blouse greeted them, smiling. “Hello there, Theresa. You doing okay?”
Jude watched as his wife, in pain, smiled and nodded her head at the matronly yet angelic nurse. Who is this wonderful woman? Jude remembered wondering for a split second before being led to the doorway just outside the operating room, where he was stunned by the bright lights and relative starkness of the facility there. After changing into his surgical scrubs, he was inside the operating room and with Theresa again.
A long minute later Dr. Luke entered, now dressed for surgery. Ignoring Jude for the most part, he went straight to Theresa, smiled at her in a way that said “I’m excited to be here with you,” and turned to one of his nurses and asked, “Has Dr. Schmitz arrived yet?”
At that very moment another man entered. His hair was disheveled, and he was wearing a different color outfit from the others. They smiled at one another before Dr. Luke replied, “Well, here he is now.”
“Hey there, Andy,” Dr. Luke greeted his colleague before turning to Theresa. “And how are you doing?”
Looking no more disheveled than Dr. Schmitz, Theresa smiled back at him. “I’m okay.”
“Well, you’re about to have two little girls.”
“But I’m only seven and a half months—”
He interrupted her, smiling. “We do this all the time.” He patted her hand, asked the nurse to call the anesthesiologist, and the process began.
REGROUP
At 5:45 A.M., Dr. Luke and Dr. Schmitz delivered the tiny Cousins twins, doing a Cesarean section. Nurses quickly cleaned up the three-pound babies and took them imme diately to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit next door.
Dr. Luke and Dr. Schmitz assured the parents that all had gone well, and that they’d be able to see the babies shortly. Theresa was wheeled off to the recovery room, and as soon as she was gone, Jude fell into a chair outside the NICU. He looked at his watch, which read 5:57 A.M.
He was amazed. Everything, from the moment they woke up in bed until now, had happened in less than ninety minutes. Life would never be the same.
HURRY UP AND WAIT
For the next three days, Theresa remained hospitalized just fifty feet from where her babies, Hailey and Emily, were being watched around the clock.
Her pediatrician and the head of the NICU explained that the babies would have to stay for at least three weeks. During that time, parents were encouraged to come in and touch them for a few hours a day, but given the girls’ early arrival, they wouldn’t be ready to be held or fed like later-term babies for a week or so. Even then, there was only so much Theresa and Jude would be able to do. The thought of being at home without the girls was an unpleasant one for the new parents.
When it came time for Theresa to be discharged from the hospital, there was confusion as to which department was responsible for releasing her, and who would be billing the insurance company for what. Given Theresa’s emotional and physical exhaustion, this was particularly trying for her, and she was cranky about the chaos. After more than an hour of delays and phone calls, she was finally cleared to leave.
When he and Theresa arrived home and caught their breath, Jude quickly came to the conclusion that he should work as much as he could while the girls were in the hospital, both to take his mind off his worries about them and to get his business on track so that he could spare a little more time when they finally did come home. And besides, Theresa’s mother would be staying with them for the next month, so there really wasn’t much to do around the house until the babies arrived.
Jude had originally postponed his session at Children’s Hospital when the girls were born. Now he decided to try and reschedule it, and was glad that Lindsay was able to pull the event together just a few days later than originally planned. Jude now had five days to figure out how to make this silo session better than the last one.
WHERE YOU’D LEAST EXPECT IT
Jude and Theresa decided they would make three trips each day to the hospital to be with the girls. In the morning and at night, they would go together. At noon, Jude would go while Theresa slept, and she would later visit in the afternoon to help with the feedings.
As Jude drove to the hospital for his first solo visit with his little girls, he couldn’t stop thinking about his early morning arrival there in the back of the ambulance. Though it had taken place less than a week earlier, it seemed like months had gone by with all that had happened since then.
When he parked his car, instead of going to the birthing center via the normal entrance, Jude decided that he would first stop by the emergency room and thank any nurses or doctors who had been there to help Theresa.
As he walked into the admitting area, the panic that Jude had felt on that frenetic morning a week earlier overwhelmed him. He began recalling the details of that crazy morning.
The calm of the EMTs. The speed of the receiving nurse at the door. The decisiveness of the doctors. The responsiveness of the nurses and staff. Processes were followed, decisions were made, mistakes happened and were corrected immediately.
It was a bizarre and beautiful mix of chaos, coordination, and communication. And it worked.
Suddenly something occurred to Jude. Most of those people came from different departments.
And that’s when it all clicked.
FLESHING IT OUT
Later that night, after another evening session of watching the girls and saying a tearful good-bye to them, Jude drove his wife and his mother-in-law home and went into his office to work. He knew there was no way he could sleep until he gathered and organized his thoughts around his new theory.
The next morning, as soon as he left the hospital after the first visit of the day, he called Lindsay to run his idea by her. But rather than just blurting it out, he thought he would take a more subtle approach that would test his theory without biasing his client.
“Okay, other than the problem between the nurses and the admissions department, what other groups in the hospital struggle with this silo thing.”
Lindsay didn’t hesitate. “You name it. Doctors versus nurses. Administration versus doctors. Management versus hourly staff. I think everyone around here sees themselves as members of their own department or clique, more than part of the hospital as a whole.”
Jude decided to go fishing. “Is there an example where it’s not a problem?” Lindsay didn’t respond right away, so Jude baited her just a little. “Are there any departments or places in the hospital where people don’t seem to care about what department they’re a part of, but work together like a team?”
This time Jude tolerated the silence, giving his client a chance to think it over.
“No.” She finally decided.
Jude was disappointed. Until Lindsay continued.
“Other than the ER, I don’t think there’s a single part of the hospital that—”
Jude interrupted. “What did you just say?”
“I said that I don’t think there is anywhere in the hospital that the silo issue isn’t a—”
He interrupted her again. “You said other than the ER.”
“Well, yeah. But the ER doesn’t really count. It’s a different animal entirely.”
Jude was suddenly excited. “What do you mean?”
“Well, that’s the one place in the hospital where there are relatively few departmental issues. But that’s true in any hospital, I think. Certainly in the ones where I’ve worked.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
“I don’t know,” she said, as she pondered the question. “I guess there’s no time for it.”
Suddenly Lindsay started to back off her answer. “But now that I think about it, I do remember times when there were petty arguments in the ER about budgets and resource sharing.”
Jude was determined to salvage his discovery. “You mean doctors and nurses in the emergency room arguing about which department should pay for supplies or equipment?”
“No. Not in the ER itself. I’m talking about during budget sessions and administrative staff meetings.”
“Why do you suppose it never happens in the ER itself?” Jude was hoping for a specific answer.
Lindsay paused for a moment. “Because no one with a heart and a brain would even think of bitching about departmental stuff while someone is lying there bleeding right in front of them. Emergencies tend to do that to people.”
That was exactly what Jude wanted to hear.
PROCESSING
As the proud and tired parents sat next to their tiny sleeping daughters in the NICU, Jude explained to Theresa his experience in the ER that morning and his conversation with Lindsay.
Though Theresa was not the most focused of audiences—not surprising, given her environment—she made one particularly lucid suggestion. “You should call Brian What’shis-name. The CEO at the fitness machine company.”
“Why?” Jude wanted to know.
“Isn’t he the guy that said he didn’t need your help with the silo thing?”
“Yeah. And I’m finished with my work there.”
“Did you ask him why?”
Jude was now just a little impatient. “Yeah, and he said that they just hired a marketing guy and didn’t need any help in sales—”
Theresa interrupted her husband. “No, did he tell you why they didn’t have a problem with silos? Maybe you can learn something from him.”
Jude wanted to argue with her, just to avoid having to say, “I never really thought of that.” But he couldn’t. “You know, that’s probably a great idea. I hate when you do that.”
They laughed quietly and turned their attention back to Emily and Hailey.
SECOND LOOK
Brian was in his office when Jude called.
“Hey there, Jude. What’s new?”
“Not much.” Jude said reflexively. And then, catching himself, he explained, “What am I saying? Actually, my whole world is new. Theresa gave birth to our twin girls four days ago.”
“I thought she wasn’t due for another couple of months.” Brian seemed genuinely concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, the babies are fine, although they’ll be in the hospital for at least three weeks. They need to get their lungs stronger and get bigger. But everything looks good.”
“Well, thank God. I appreciate your calling to let me know.”
Jude hesitated. “The reason I’m calling is actually about work.”
Brian laughed. “I can’t believe you have time to work right now. What does your wife think about that?”
“She’s fine. Her mom’s here and we’re doing shift visits to the hospital. Not much else we can do right now. Anyway, I’d like to come by and see you tomorrow for a few minutes. I want to run something by you.”
“Let me see.” There was a pause. “Yeah, it looks like I’m open tomorrow before nine o’clock, and then from noon to three.”
“How about if I come by at noon?”
“Great. Oh, by the way. Where did your wife have the babies?”
“At the hospital.”
Brian laughed. “Yeah, I figured that. You must be tired. I mean which hospital.”
Jude laughed too. “Oh. John Muir in Walnut Creek. And yeah, I’m exhausted.”
“Has she checked out yet?”
Jude thought it was a funny question, but didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah. She’s home.”
“Good. Well, both of you get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jude was looking forward to it.
SCHOOL
Jude arrived at Brian’s office the next afternoon, thanked him for the beautiful arrangement of flowers that he had sent to Theresa that morning, and dove right in. He decided to be as direct as possible.
“Okay, I want to know why it is that you don’t think you have a silo problem around here.”
“It sounds like you’re not sure I’m telling the truth.” Brian smiled.
Jude was a little embarrassed and backpedaled a bit. “No, that’s not what I meant. But do you think it’s possible that there is more infighting down there,” he motioned to the window overlooking the factory floor below, “than you’re aware of?”
“No I don’t. But if I’m wrong, I’d like to know so I can fix it.” Brian paused for a moment, then dropped his open hand firmly on the desk. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go down there and find out for yourself?”
Jude was a little puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean go down there and talk to people. Ask them what they think. Talk to anyone in any part of the organization. Most of them know who you are, so they won’t be bothered by it. And feel free to ask them in a way that they won’t know what you’re looking for. I don’t want them sugar-coating their answers.”
“Are you sure?” Jude was a little hesitant.
“Yeah. Why not? I don’t think you’ll find anything, but I’d like you to try. Heck, I’ll even pay you your hourly rate.”
Jude shook his head and laughed. “No, you don’t have to do that. But I’ll definitely take you up on your offer.”
“Okay then. Come back in two hours and let me know what you learn.”
Jude checked his watch, and headed for the door. “See you at two o’clock.”
SNOOPING
Jude felt like a plainclothes police officer as he roamed the company’s halls and factory floor asking questions.
Deciding that it would be best not to bias the people he interviewed, Jude always asked the same two openended questions first: “What’s going on that’s good? What’s going on that’s not so good?”
While it was certainly true that a few of the more junior people seemed less than comfortable telling a relative stranger anything meaningful about the company, most of the people that Jude talked to were happy to indulge him. And not just on the positive side of things.
Some complained about the budget being too tight. Others thought that the plant needed expanding. Still others wanted to reduce the number of products being manufactured. All in all, however, Jude confirmed what he already knew: Brian ran a pretty tight ship.
Only when people had finished responding to the second question did Jude begin to probe in a more direct way. He might ask a factory floor worker, “How do you like working with people from finance?” Or he’d ask someone in sales, “Do you think that marketing is doing enough to help you sell products?” He got nothing that would indicate a silo problem.
Jude then began asking a host of more direct, somewhat desperate questions that he thought might elicit some indication of departmental stress. “Which department do you dread working with the most?” “If you had to take resources from one department within the company, which would it be?” Most of those questions provoked looks of confusion more than anything else.
After more than ninety minutes, Jude decided to stop. He went back to Brian’s office with a sense of disappointment and admiration. “Okay, I give up.”
Brian teased him. “But you’ve still got a half hour. Maybe you missed something.”
“No. I just want to know the answer.”
“What answer?”
“How you do it. What’s the secret?”
Then Brian said something that Jude didn’t want to hear. “I don’t know.”
“Come on,” prodded Jude. “Just tell me.”
Brian smiled. “I’m serious. I don’t know. It’s just how it is.” He seemed to be searching for an answer on the ceiling. Then he looked directly at Jude. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.”
Before Jude could ask him, Brian explained. “Why don’t you try to figure it out? I mean, I’ll let you hang around for a while and observe things. I’d like to know why we’re different from other companies so we can make sure that we keep doing whatever we’re doing.”
Normally Jude wouldn’t have been so enthusiastic about taking on an unpaid project, but he thought this might be exactly what he needed.
He was right.
CLUE
Jude spent the next three days driving back and forth between his home, the hospital, and the JMJ facility in Manteca, which gave him plenty of time to think.
During those three days, he observed two executive meetings, one focused on operations and another more strategic in nature. He also spent three hours on the factory floor where he watched people work, paying special attention to the various departments represented there. He even went to the parking lot to see when people arrived, who they went to lunch with, who stayed late, and where they parked.
Then one day while he was in the break room getting coffee, he found a brochure of sorts that provided the breakthrough he was looking for. It was a brief history of JMJ, from its founding twelve years earlier to the present.
Thumbing through the booklet, Jude found a chart depicting the company’s annual revenue and profit. The trend was moderately positive for the first eight years, until the following period when revenue was cut in half, and profits dropped even more drastically. One year later, both indicators had jumped, and the trend for the following three years since then was nothing short of amazing.
Jude couldn’t find any mention of the downturn, so he went to see Brian. Unfortunately, the CEO was already gone, so Jude had to wait another day to have his questions answered.
HISTORY LESSON
After his morning visit to the hospital, where his daughters were already showing signs of progress, Jude went straight to Brian’s office.
“Have you figured it out yet?” Brian genuinely seemed to be hoping that he had.
“Not yet,” Jude replied, “but I have a few questions for you.”
Brian laughed. “This is starting to sound like an episode of Columbo. Ask away.”
“What happened to the company four years ago?”
“You mean the crisis?”
Jude was confused.
“You don’t know about that?” Brian was surprised.
Jude shook his head.
“Wow. I guess it still seems like it happened just yesterday, and that everyone knows about it.”
Brian went on to describe what everyone at JMJ had come to refer to as “the Fire Drill.”
“A health club in Los Angeles had purchased fifteen treadmills from us,” he said, “and one of its customers, a minor celebrity, had a serious accident while using one of them. The story hit the press, the health club blamed us, competitors took advantage of the situation, and our lawyers gave us the horrible advice to avoid making any public statements that might hurt us in court.
“Within a week, customers began canceling orders and returning recently purchased equipment. Sales dried up, and we were staring at a major layoff, and possibly a shutdown within six months.”
And that’s when Brian made the most enlightening comment of all. “You know, sometimes I think that was the best thing that ever happened to this company.”
PUZZLE PIECES
Jude thought he might be able to predict what Brian was going to say next, but he wanted to hear it straight from his ex-client just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.
“I pulled my team together in the boardroom and told them that we had six weeks to restore our reputation. That meant we had to demonstrate that our products were safe, to rebuild our reputation in the market, to fix our relationships with key customers, and to rebuild morale down there.” He pointed to the manufacturing floor. “And we had to avoid a nasty lawsuit with that game show host.”
“And?” Jude wanted to know what happened.
“Well, we sent two of our techs down to LA and found out that the health club had installed the machines incorrectly. That was no surprise, because we knew the equipment was safe. And then we took a risk that our lawyers didn’t like. We ran full-page ads in the four biggest trade publications, telling the whole story. We sent copies of those ads, blown up to three times their normal size, to every person that we had ever had contact with at every client that had purchased one of our machines over the previous five years.”
Jude’s eyes went wide.
Brian laughed. “Pretty crazy, huh? But you know whose idea that was?” He didn’t wait for Jude to answer. “One of our quality control technicians. A twenty-two-year-old young lady. Heck, we decided that the only way to salvage morale was to get everyone involved, even a little pissed off, about what had happened to us. They came up with ideas that none of us up here would have had the courage for.”
“I guess you won the lawsuit then.” It was a question.
“No, we settled it. For something like twenty thousand dollars.”
Jude was confused. “But I thought it wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t. But we would have wasted so much time and money fighting it. I know it’s wrong, but unfortunately that’s how the legal system works these days, especially in California. But we didn’t really care at that point, because we were so busy handling the increase in orders that had already started to come in just a few weeks after the ads went out. Heck, we even decided to pay the settlement for the dopey health club in LA when they agreed to buy their next twenty-five machines from us.”
Jude was now starting to get excited. “Tell me the truth, Brian. Before all that happened, was there a silo problem around here?”
Brian thought about it. “Well, I once had to fire a few department heads because they didn’t seem to care as much about the company as they did about their own little fiefdoms. If that’s what you mean, then I suppose we had some of that.”
“What about before you arrived?”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, I remember hearing about a time when the executive offices and marketing departments were located in a different building from the factory because the head of marketing thought his people should have a more ‘professional’ work environment. And before I came, the incentive trips were limited to people in the sales organization, but I made it a company-wide thing. Some of the salespeople weren’t too happy about that at first.”
“And since then? Any of that kind of stuff ever pop up?”
Brian thought hard. “Not really. Except maybe when things are going too smoothly. That’s probably when I see people start to turn inward a little. But ever since the Fire Drill, we’re pretty much together.”
Jude thanked Brian and headed for the door.
“So I guess you’re thinking that the Fire Drill had something to do with us not having a silo problem.”
Jude smiled. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
CRAMMING
Jude was convinced that the next two weeks would determine the fate of his consulting career. During that time he would try to distill everything he had learned from Brian into an actionable solution and design an effective session for Children’s Hospital. If that went well, he’d go back to the Madison for a second try, and then be ready for Carter Bell at Batch.
That was the plan, anyway. But as Jude was learning more and more every day, things don’t always go as planned.
OPPORTUNITY CALLS
Just as he pulled his car into the parking lot at the hospital for his evening visit with the twins, the phone rang. Jude recognized the area code and prefix as a Batch number. It was Carter Bell’s assistant.
“Hello Jude, I’m calling for Carter. His trip has changed, and so he won’t be able to meet with you next week.”
Before Jude could get too disappointed, she added, “But he could fit you in tomorrow at nine o’clock.”
Without really thinking about what he was saying, Jude responded, “That would be great.”
“Okay, we’ll see you at nine tomorrow.” And she hung up.
Before he knew what had happened, Jude had an entirely new dilemma on his hands. What am I going to do now?
ONWARD
As he sat down next to his wife to watch their babies, Jude explained what had just happened on the phone.
As usual, Theresa reassured her husband. “Listen, there’s no way that you could have turned down that appointment. Who knows how long it would have been before you could get back on his calendar?”
Jude agreed, and decided it was time to stop thinking about work and focus on his daughters. These visits usually had a dual impact on Jude.
On one hand, they calmed him by putting life in perspective and helping him realize that his business issues were not as important as he might make them out to be. On the other hand, they reminded him of his financial responsibilities to his family. As usual, the effects canceled each other, leaving Jude to go home no more nor less stressed than when he went in.
At midnight, Jude was still trying to figure out exactly what he would say at Batch the next day, and by 5 A.M. he decided that it was either coming together or he had lost his ability to assess the quality of what he was doing. Whatever the case, he had to wrap it up so he could grab a shower, get to the hospital, and be over at Carter’s office by nine.
Though he was tired and not completely confident of what he was about to cover, he took some consolation from the fact that he certainly knew Carter’s business, and the nature of the Batch organization. That would prove to be more important than even Jude could have imagined.
CARTER
Entering the Batch offices for the first time since leaving the company didn’t feel as strange to Jude as he thought it would. But then again, he was coming back to meet with the CEO. Unfortunately, whatever friendly vibes Jude had felt from him on the phone seemed to have disappeared by the time the meeting began.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Those were the first words out of Carter’s mouth when Jude sat down in the leather chair across the desk. And before he could respond, Carter continued. “I’ve got just fifteen minutes before my next meeting.”
Jude did his best not to seem flustered by the tone of the conversation, or by the shortened time period that he would have to work with. In fact, he decided that he would have to abandon whatever fears he had, and get right to the point.
“Here’s the deal. I think Batch has a huge silo problem, and that it’s costing you in many ways. I just don’t see you turning things around until you eliminate the departmental politics that exist. People are so internally focused that customers are being ignored, and competitors are having their way with you.”
Carter was quick to respond. “I am so tired of hearing about that. Everyone thinks that—”
Some combination of exhaustion and courage prompted Jude to interrupt his former CEO. “Listen, if you think I’m making this up, all you need to do is talk to the people two levels below—”
Carter cut him off. “Making it up? What are you talking about? I’m not in denial here. This problem is everywhere.”
Jude was relieved, and wasn’t quite sure how to redirect his passion. Luckily, Carter continued.
“It’s been almost a full year since the announcement of the merger, and I’m still hearing people talk about Hatch Systems and Bell Technology. You’d think that with the stock in the toilet people would stop caring about their old company and focus on making the new one work.”
Jude waited until he was finished before diving in. “I’m a little surprised. I figured by now that the Bell and Hatch problem would be less of an issue. If anything, I’d have expected you’d have new silos altogether.”
“Are you kidding? Have you forgotten about the advertising crap that went on? Heck, people are still complaining about me not giving enough responsibility to ex-Hatch people, or vice versa.”
Jude was starting to feel that Carter was confiding in him, so he pushed a little. “So this is among your staff members too?”
After a brief pause, Carter nodded his head. “Yeah. Which is why I’ve replaced about half of them in the past three months.”
This was a surprise to Jude, who had found it too painful to follow any news about the company after abandoning his hopes of a rebound.
“How has that worked out?” Jude asked, trying to disguise the fact that it was the first he had heard of it.
Carter thought about it. “Well, I definitely swapped out the right people. And I’ve finally cut my staff down to a manageable size.”
“How are they working together so far?”
“Well, we brought in a guy to do team building, to help us become more of a, well, a team, I guess.”
“How was it?” Jude asked, expecting the worst.
“The guy was great, actually. At least that’s what I thought at the time. I felt like we made a bunch of progress, and everyone else did too. No one bitched about it at all and I would have sworn that we’re as tight as any team I’ve ever worked with. No more passive-aggressive B.S., and almost none of that back-channel gossip that you probably dealt with when you were here.”
“So what went wrong?”
Carter shrugged. “I don’t know. In spite of all the improvement we made as a team, the silo stuff is still there. People in marketing are still complaining about engineering. And sales thinks marketing isn’t doing enough to move products. The list goes on and on.”
“And you’re sure that people on your staff aren’t just hiding the personal politics better?”
Carter thought about it, and then nodded emphatically. “Yeah. These people genuinely like each other, and they don’t hold anything back. That’s something I’m good at sensing. This isn’t a petty group of people anymore. They really want to succeed, and they don’t care who gets the credit.”
“You’re sure about that?” Jude had to know.
“Yes, I’m sure. Why? You don’t believe me?” Carter seemed just a little agitated now.
Jude didn’t want to lose him. “No, no. It’s not that. I think you probably know what’s going on. It’s just that if what you’re saying is true, then I think I might know how to help you.”
Carter now seemed to shift his attention away from his own problem and toward assessing the consultant sitting in front of him.
Jude continued, feeling a new surge of confidence, which mixed nicely with his desperation. “In fact, I’m pretty confident that I can.”
He could sense that Carter believed him, and appreciated his directness. The sales call was almost over and an exhausted Jude was ready to get out of there. In minutes, he could be out the door with another paying client on the books.
And then the phone rang. Carter picked it up and spent the next two minutes in a fairly intense conversation. When he hung up, he turned to Jude. “Okay, it’s time for my meeting. What does your day look like today?”
Jude was a little taken aback. “Well, at noon I’ve got to be at—”
Carter jumped in. “Nothing till noon?”
Jude shook his head.
“Good. Come with me.”
Before he knew what was happening, Jude was following Carter Bell across the hall and into the boardroom, where the executive team was waiting. There were just seven of them, three of whom Jude had never seen.
Trying to appear as confident as a sleep-deprived man can, Jude couldn’t help but think to himself, What have I gotten myself into?
REAL TIME
Carter wasted no time. “Okay, everyone. I know we’re supposed to be talking about our budget today, but I’m going to mix things up a little bit.”
He turned to Jude, who was now seated at the end of the table near the white board. “You all remember Jude Cousins, who ran advertising and other related programs for us when Zachary was still head of marketing. He’s going to spend a half hour helping us figure out how to get rid of these damn silos that I’ve been complaining about for the past six months.”
The CFO spoke first. “Does this mean we’re not going to be doing the budget today, because my people have been working for the past three nights to—”
Carter interrupted. “Frankly, Dan, I don’t know if we’re going to get to the budget. And please don’t take this wrong, but I wish you’d stop referring to them as your people. ” He turned to one of the other executives. “Or your people. Or yours.”
The room was a little stunned by the direct but gentle reprimand, which continued. “I mean, they’re our people, and we have got to stop thinking about our departments all the time, and which one gets more money and head-count and. . . . ”
He didn’t seem to know how to finish the sentence. Turning back to Dan, he said, “And besides, what use is the budget conversation if everyone’s just going to be lobbying for their departments? I mean, Jude is right.”
Jude wanted to stop the rambling CEO right there, but it was too late.
“We aren’t going to turn this thing around as long as we keep working in these silos. And you know, it’s not our employees’ fault. It’s ours.”
The head of sales, whom Jude knew fairly well from his days at Batch, raised his hand but didn’t wait to be called upon. Smiling at Jude with a look of mild surprise, he asked, “Did you say that?”
Before Jude could respond, Carter answered. “No, I did.”
The sales VP turned his attention to the CEO. “Come on, Carter. We’ve come a long way in the last few months. I honestly think we’ve eliminated most of the stuff that people used to pull in terms of pointing fingers and talking behind everyone’s backs.”
One or two others nodded their agreement.
Until the head of engineering spoke. “Then why aren’t we making any progress? And why are our people still so frustrated with each other?”
Carter held up his hand to put an end to the discussion. “And that is exactly what we’re going to talk about today.”
The room was suddenly quiet. Carter looked toward Jude and sat down. All attention shifted toward the former employee from marketing.
BLIND PASSION
Jude stood and went to the white board, not knowing exactly how to begin. He decided to start with a question.
“Has anyone here ever worked for a company in crisis?”
After an awkward pause, the head of sales spoke up, smiling. “Well, I’d say this isn’t exactly a picnic we’re in the middle of here.”
The room laughed hard at the gallows humor. Except Carter.
Jude continued. “No, I mean a real crisis. A ‘ship-is-about-to-go-down’ kind of crisis.”
Another moment of silence, broken finally by the CFO. “I was part of an organization once where everyone was pretty convinced the ship was about to go down.”
Jude prodded him. “What was the situation?”
With a straight face, he explained. “I was in the Navy in Vietnam. Our boat hit a small mine and was about to go down.”
The room broke out into laughter again. Even Carter.
Jude laughed with them and pushed on. “Okay, how about a business example?”
Now that the room had lightened up a bit, the answers were more forthcoming.
The head of sales raised his hand. “Years ago I worked for a kitchen appliance manufacturer in the Midwest. We sold a ton of ovens and stoves. And then trade policies changed and foreign manufacturers with cheaper labor started introducing less expensive models, and our market share tanked.”
“Okay. What did you do?”
“Well, at first we sulked, and then we talked about trying to reduce our costs. But we quickly realized that there was no way we could compete on price.”
Jude noticed that the other executives seemed genuinely interested in this classic business case. He didn’t want to lose them. “Keep going.”
“So we decided we had to reposition our brand and our company for the high-end, premium market where we could protect our margins. And we had to do it in less than a year, or we would be toast.”
“And?”
“Well, I’m sure some of you have a DeWitt stove or oven in your homes right now.”
Many of them nodded, impressed by the personal connection to the story.
“We transformed that company in six months.”
Jude was ready to take over the lesson again, glad to be feeling less anxiety than when he started. “Okay, why do you think you were able to do that? I mean, most companies I know wouldn’t be able to reposition like that in six years.”
The sales VP responded without hesitation. “We didn’t have a choice.”
“Exactly.” Jude was coming alive. “It was a crisis. A rallying cry. A crisis brings out the best in companies.”
The CFO chimed in. “That’s true. When I look back at my career, the best work we did was usually when our backs were up against the wall.”
Now Carter had a question. “So are you suggesting that we create a crisis?”
Jude paused, as if he were considering the question. “Well, if that’s the only way to rally people, then yeah.”
The room was surprised by the answer, and Jude could feel their respect for him slipping away. Which was what he wanted.
“But I don’t think that’s the smartest way to do it.”
Carter seemed relieved.
Jude continued. “I think a company should find a way to rally people around a common cause before a crisis hits.”
Now he had their attention and was about to move forward. Until the chief legal counsel spoke up. “You know,” she said, “every crisis doesn’t lead to nirvana. Sometimes the ship really does sink. I’ve worked at two companies where crises tore the place apart.”
Jude was starting to feel like he was in a boxing match, caught with a surprise punch from an opponent he was about to knock out. He paused, trying to collect his thoughts.
And then it occurred to him. “That’s right. A crisis has as much power to tear an organization apart, even create thicker silos, as it does to tear the silos down and unite people. It depends on what the executive team does with it.”
“What does that mean?” Carter wanted to know.
Jude turned to the head of sales. “Well, what did you guys do at the appliance company?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how did you turn the company around?” Jude couldn’t believe he was standing in the boardroom at his old company, grilling one of the executives who had inadvertently caused him to quit his job eight months before. What a difference it makes to be an outsider, he thought to himself.
The sales VP thought about the question. “I don’t know. We did a lot of things.”
Jude was patient. “Yeah, but what were the big things?”
After a long three seconds, the VP explained. “Well, I guess the first thing we talked about was redesigning the products, especially the look and feel and operating features. And we had to rebrand the company to reflect the new market we were going after. A new logo, new collateral, different advertising.”
Jude was learning on the fly now. Instinctively, he went to the white board and wrote “Redesign the Product” and “Rebrand the company.”
“Go on,” he politely urged his former colleague.
“Well, we had to reprice everything too. And then do a big campaign with our distributors and wholesalers who would be representing us in stores. That was huge.”
Now Jude wrote “Repricing” and “Distributor Education.”
The VP of sales was now staring at the white board, thinking about the situation. “Oh yeah. We had to teach our employees to think about and talk about our business differently. We did a massive retraining.”
After Jude wrote “Retraining” on the board, he asked, “Anything else?”
“Well, yeah, there were hundreds of other things we did. But those are the biggies. I think everything else fell into one of those categories. In fact, now that you’ve got me thinking about it, we had a list that looked something like that, and we used it as our agenda at every meeting for almost a year. I think there were about eight or nine things on it, but I can’t remember what else.”
Things were starting to click for Jude now. He could feel his adrenaline pumping. “So what about you?” He asked the team, more loudly than he had intended. “What would this look like for Batch?”
Carter smiled, almost laughing at the enthusiastic young consultant. “Whoa, Trigger. What are you talking about?”
The others laughed too. Even Jude smiled, surprised by his own exuberance. “Well, I’m thinking that there’s no reason for you not to have a short list of major topics like this. I mean, pretend there’s a crisis.”
The executives in the room were caught somewhere between skepticism and buy-in, neither pushing for or against what Jude was saying.
Then Carter stood up and went to the board, prompting Jude to take the CEO’s seat, which was the only empty one at the table.
“I have an idea. What was the rallying cry for you guys at DeWitt?” he asked, looking at the sales VP.
“Survival.” He said, laughing. “Survival through repositioning.”
Carter wrote the phrase on the white board above the other five. “So, all of this other stuff is how you defined survival, then?” It was both a question and a statement.
“Right.”
“Without that rallying cry, though, it would have been impossible to know what the five building blocks were. Right?”
Now everyone nodded.
“So what is our rallying cry?” After a pause, he continued. “That’s not a rhetorical question. I want everyone to take a stab at this right now. If DeWitt had to survive by repositioning, what is it we should be focused on.”
Jude could not have been happier. Carter was not only getting it, but he was even helping Jude figure it out.
The CEO walked over to Jude and handed him the marker. “You take over, boss. I want to think about this.”
Jude went to the board while Carter resumed his seat.
After a full two minutes, Jude could see the writing coming to an end, so he called the question. “Okay, what do we have?”
The CFO went first. “I think we have to rationalize our expenses and eliminate redundancy.”
Jude wrote it on the board, then turned and pointed to the head of engineering.
“I think we need to eliminate unprofitable products and focus on the ones we think have a future.”
Jude captured it and turned to the head of sales. “I want to figure out what our new value proposition is, and get our messaging clear.”
Next was the head of marketing. “I agree with that. Honing our message is critical.”
The VP of customer service agreed with her colleague in engineering and supported the product cleanup, while the legal counsel went with expense reduction and rationalization.
Finally, Carter weighed in. “I like all of those. And I’d add something about staffing. I think we have some key positions to fill, and some poor performers and cultural misfits deeper in the organization to deal with.”
When Jude finished writing, he addressed Carter, who looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” The CEO seemed surprised by the question.
“You’re frowning.”
Carter smiled, not realizing that his facial expression was giving away this thoughts. “I don’t know. I guess I was hoping that there would be one big, clear thing.”
Everyone in the room was staring at the white board now.
And then Jude saw it. The ideas everyone had been proposing were actually the building blocks. The rallying cry itself was something different.
“I think I see it.” He said calmly. Going to the white board, he drew a box above the answers that he had just recorded there. “All of the things you’ve been saying are the building blocks. The rallying cry itself is something like this.” In the box he wrote, “Complete the merger and launch the new company.”
Stepping back he waited for a reaction. It came from the CFO. “I think that’s it.”
No one else said anything for a few long seconds.
Then Carter said, “Yep. That’s what we have to do.”
The others all started to nod, and Jude felt that they were not merely agreeing with their CEO but buying in to the validity of the answer.
Then the CFO raised his hand. “What’s the time frame here?”
No one responded right away so he clarified the question. “I mean, when should we expect to have this all done?”
“I don’t know,” Jude replied, genuinely unsure of the right answer and eager to hear what the executives in the room thought. “What makes sense?”
“Isn’t there a general rule of thumb about this?” Carter asked. “Like a year?”
Jude frowned. “That’s what most companies do. But I don’t think there is any real logic behind that other than the typical planning cycle and financial schedule.”
He waited to see if anyone would push back, then continued. “I mean, I think the time frame around this stuff should depend on what you think is required, realistic, and meaningful in your industry.”
The head of human resources raised her hand and spoke up. “Yeah, in a start-up I was involved in, we thought about things in terms of weeks and months, but when I worked at a university, it was always about a year or more. Things moved much more slowly in academic circles. I think we’re probably somewhere in between.”
That seemed to make sense to everyone. Carter pushed the group for their thoughts. “So what should ours be? What would be acceptable and realistic, given our business?”
The head of sales jumped in first. “I think we can do this in a month. It’s been more than a year since the damn merger was finished anyway.”
The CFO countered. “I’d like to agree with you, but the fact is we haven’t addressed some of these things at all yet, and it’s going to take much longer than that. I say we give ourselves a year.”
“A year?!” shot back the sales VP.
Jude polled the room for their thoughts and received a variety of answers, most of them between three and six months. He then looked to Carter. “Okay, there’s no right answer here. What’s the call?”
Carter thought about it for a quick second, and declared, “Five months. That gives us till the end of the year. If that’s a little aggressive, then good.”
Everyone in the room nodded assent.
It was clear to Jude that they had all bought in to the time frame, and that his theory made sense. And that’s when it dawned on him that he no longer felt tired.
REALITY CHECK
As happy as Jude was that the team was buying in to the concepts that he was just figuring out himself, he decided that he should push them a little further to make sure it would work.
He went to the white board, erased what was already there, and rewrote it all in words that made more sense:
Complete the Merger and Launch the New Company • Eliminate redundant expenses
• Eliminate redundant products
• Fill key roles/replace cultural misfits
• Refine messaging and value proposition
“So, if we rationalize our expenses, pare down our product line, clarify our messaging to the market, and finish hiring and firing, will we be confident in saying that we have finally put the merger behind us and are now a single new company?”
No one nodded at first. Like Jude, they were studying the chart and thinking.
Jude rephrased the question. “Is there anything that’s missing? If all we do during the next five months are these things, will we look back and call it a success?”
Immediately the CFO replied. “No way. We have to make our numbers.”
The head of sales agreed. Carter looked at Jude as if to say yeah, what about the numbers?
Jude was momentarily shaken. Before he could respond, the chief legal counsel chimed in. “Yeah, and we have to deal with the two lawsuits we talked about last week.”
The human resources VP added, “And we’ve got performance reviews to do, and management training.”
Jude felt as though the validity of what they had been working on so far was crashing right in front of him. How could we have missed all of these critical activities? As hard as he tried, he couldn’t figure out how to fit them in with the rallying cry.
Fortunately, Carter bailed him out. “Wait a second. All of that is what we do for a living.”
People seemed confused so the CEO continued. “Those are the things that we’ll always be doing. We’ll always have to make our numbers, and deal with lawsuits, and do annual performance reviews and training. And for that matter, advertising, accounting, product development, and company picnics.”
Jude finally figured it out too. “So those are the ongoing operating requirements. But this other stuff,” he motioned to what he had written on the board, “is unique to this five-month period, because after that, it either goes away or becomes standard.”
Carter added to Jude’s explanation. “And sure, if we don’t do the ongoing stuff, none of this matters. But if all we do is focus on that, we never really make any progress as an organization.”
Slowly, one by one, the executives seemed to be getting it. But more obstacles were yet to be discovered.
TEAM NUMBER ONE
Just as the team seemed ready to finalize the model on the board, the legal counsel raised her hand. “I still don’t understand where I fit into this. I mean, none of that stuff up there falls under my area of responsibility.”
The room was quiet as they pondered her question. The head of human resources wanted to make her feel included. “Sure you do. We’ll need legal help around the messaging. And I’m going to need your help dealing with difficult employee terminations.”
That seemed to mildly placate the chief lawyer. Then Carter jumped in. “Wait a second. I don’t think I like your question.” There was a slight hint of annoyance in his voice.
Everyone looked at Carter, confused.
“This is not about figuring out how to accommodate all our functional areas. I really don’t care about your departments or titles or functional responsibilities. I want all of us focused on what’s important, regardless of where it falls in the organization.”
He looked at the legal counsel. “And that means I want you, as a member of this team, to be just as involved and interested in what we’re doing around products and marketing as you are around legal issues. That’s why I put you on my staff. Not because you’re a good lawyer, but because you can contribute across the board.”
Jude wished he were recording the session, but decided there was no way he would forget this. He added to Carter’s explanation.
“And the next rallying cry might have a distinctly legal component, but that won’t mean that everyone else in the room won’t be involved.”
The head of engineering made a rare comment, but an insightful one. “It’s almost like we need to disregard our titles when we’re together, and then put our functional hats back on when we go back to work.”
Everyone was nodding in an “ah ha” kind of way.
“Where did that come from?” the CFO teased.
As everyone laughed at the joke, Carter looked at Jude and nodded his head. “This is good.”
Jude had never enjoyed being a consultant more than in that moment. Now all he had to do is figure out how to make a living at it.
BACK TO EARTH
Carter decided it was time to get back to the regular agenda, and thanked Jude for his help. The team graciously joined in with a quiet chorus of “nice job” and “this has been re ally helpful” and even “good to see you again.”
As the CEO walked him to the door, he said, “I’ll be out of town for about five days starting tomorrow. When I get back, let’s talk about what I need to do to make all of this stick.”
Jude agreed, said good-bye, and left. He hoped that Carter would be open to bringing him on board as a paid consultant, and not merely content to have picked his brain for an idea. Determined to ride the emotional high from the meeting, Jude rededicated himself to having a great session at Children’s Hospital the next day, and even trying to get his foot back in the door at the Madison.
But first, he needed to see his girls. After forty-five minutes of gazing at his daughters, Jude explained the day’s events to his wife. She then reminded him of their wager. “So, I think I’ll take my fifty dollars in the form of a nice dinner. How about Lark Creek?”
He agreed. During dinner they talked mostly about the progress their daughters were making and when they would most likely be coming home. But for a few minutes Theresa indulged her husband’s need to get his mind around the next steps in his company.
Jude had figured out that he would need three clients paying him on a regular basis to sustain the business. And if he could find a project here and there to supplement that, and then gradually raise his fees, the business would be in good shape by the end of the year.
Theresa wasn’t worried. Jude attributed this to her focus on the girls and her unbridled optimism about her husband’s abilities. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as confident as she was, and he knew that without Children’s Hospital, the number of regularly paying clients in his stable would currently be zero.
