Task Eleven: Acquisition of the Golden Apples of the Hesperides
Hercules' penultimate task involved a quest for the golden apples of wisdom and beauty secreted in the remote and carefully guarded garden of Hesperides. To accomplish this task Hercules has to call on all the managerial and leadership lessons inherent in his ten previous tasks:
1. know your own strengths
2. tackle the root causes
3. look for the win/win
4. acknowledge and move on from your mentors
5. mobilize the system to your advantage
6. take a time-out when you are tired
7. challenge your customer
8. hire good people
9. play the politics when you have to
10. beware the unexpected consequences
Needless to say he succeeded - unerringly guided by the scrupulous application of these deceptively simple management aphorisms - and delivered the golden apples to his odious customer, King E. who promptly and ungratefully set him his final task.
Task Twelve: Capture of Cerberus in the Underworld
The ultimate leadership task represents overcoming the fear of fear itself. Critical to the successful accomplishment of all of Hercules’ tasks has been an inner belief in his own managerial competence and a confidence to test himself against the biggest and the best in the business. Cerberus, the three-headed hound guard of the gates of hell, represents the ultimate threat of career ending disaster and corporate suicide.
Hercules’ passage into the underworld to confront Pluto, its morbid CEO, and to capture the hound dog is marked by a surreal confidence in his essential ability, reputation and experience. He transcends the quite natural fears of the unknown, the unquiet and the unreasonable and quite simply outmatches Cerberus, pound for pound on merit. The result is his ultimate liberation from the corporate threats of rejection and redundancy. He is finally sling and arrow-proof.
In passing he secures the release from the underworld of his old friend and colleague, Theseus, thus repaying a long-standing debt of comradeship. Never forget the friends you make on the way up. His return in triumph to the kingdom of Eurystheus ensures the ultimate collapse of the customer-driven tyranny that has ruled his life.
The tasks are complete and at the same time irrelevant. Hercules himself ascends to the rarefied heights of consultant, management guru and wise mentor to a new generation of would be managers. His successor, Atlas, strives to hold up pillars of the known world. That’s another story.
Wednesday 25 February 2009
Mergers and Acquisitions with Hercules
Task Nine: Acquisition of the Girdle of Hippolyte
The challenge of acquiring the celebrated girdle of the fragrantly fierce Hippolyte was one fraught with political rather than physical danger. The girdle itself was a symbol of Amazonian sovereignty and capturing it represented mounting a challenge to one of the most significant power bases of the ancient Greek mythos. This was the corporate equivalent of closing or restructuring an entire regional or functional division.
Hercules’ first move was to assemble a powerful leadership coalition. Theseus, Telamon and Peleus were persuaded to join him in a combined attack on the Amazon queen. Interestingly, Hercules’ first tactic was flirtation and a mild seduction of Hippolyte which could well have been successful in acquiring the girdle were it not for the intervention of Hera, a sworn enemy of Hercules amongst the gods on Mount Olympus. (Hera was the wife of Zeus betrayed at the time of Hercules’ conception.)
Faced with Hera-inspired political resistance from the Amazons, Hercules reverted to forceful type and slaughtered a few of the warrior women before making off with the girdle. Victory at all costs was declared but his entrenched enemies remained at large.
The Hippolyte girdle incident represents Hercules in his role as change manager tasked with overcoming entrenched political positions by fair means or foul. He makes all the right initial diplomatic moves but when confronted by a show of real resistance, reveals his hard core managerial instincts and bulldozes through to the required and pre-cooked solution. No more Mr Nice Guy.
Task Ten: Capture of the Cattle of Geryon
Hercules’ tenth labour involved taking on the triple-bodied monster, Geryon, who controlled extensive head of cattle on the island of Erythia and as such represented a lucrative takeover target. This was a classic case of corporate acquisition of a vulnerable stock. Flock.
Hercules’ takeover strategy was head on. He stormed the island and took on the monstrous shepherd, Geryon, and his hideous dog, Orthrus, and defeated them both in a simple trial of strength. Thereafter began the real problems with this attempted merger: quarrels with the regulatory authority, Apollo the Sun God; hostile takeover bids from the predatory giant, Cacus; legacy claims from the sons of Poseidon; courtroom battles with the litigious King Eryx; constant political sniping from Hera, still bitter over the Hippolyte girdle debacle.
Hercules overcame all these challenges with the calm task-focus of the uber-manager that he had become, secure in the belief that he was operating under higher guidance and with a rapidly approaching retirement date in mind.
The challenge of acquiring the celebrated girdle of the fragrantly fierce Hippolyte was one fraught with political rather than physical danger. The girdle itself was a symbol of Amazonian sovereignty and capturing it represented mounting a challenge to one of the most significant power bases of the ancient Greek mythos. This was the corporate equivalent of closing or restructuring an entire regional or functional division.
Hercules’ first move was to assemble a powerful leadership coalition. Theseus, Telamon and Peleus were persuaded to join him in a combined attack on the Amazon queen. Interestingly, Hercules’ first tactic was flirtation and a mild seduction of Hippolyte which could well have been successful in acquiring the girdle were it not for the intervention of Hera, a sworn enemy of Hercules amongst the gods on Mount Olympus. (Hera was the wife of Zeus betrayed at the time of Hercules’ conception.)
Faced with Hera-inspired political resistance from the Amazons, Hercules reverted to forceful type and slaughtered a few of the warrior women before making off with the girdle. Victory at all costs was declared but his entrenched enemies remained at large.
The Hippolyte girdle incident represents Hercules in his role as change manager tasked with overcoming entrenched political positions by fair means or foul. He makes all the right initial diplomatic moves but when confronted by a show of real resistance, reveals his hard core managerial instincts and bulldozes through to the required and pre-cooked solution. No more Mr Nice Guy.
Task Ten: Capture of the Cattle of Geryon
Hercules’ tenth labour involved taking on the triple-bodied monster, Geryon, who controlled extensive head of cattle on the island of Erythia and as such represented a lucrative takeover target. This was a classic case of corporate acquisition of a vulnerable stock. Flock.
Hercules’ takeover strategy was head on. He stormed the island and took on the monstrous shepherd, Geryon, and his hideous dog, Orthrus, and defeated them both in a simple trial of strength. Thereafter began the real problems with this attempted merger: quarrels with the regulatory authority, Apollo the Sun God; hostile takeover bids from the predatory giant, Cacus; legacy claims from the sons of Poseidon; courtroom battles with the litigious King Eryx; constant political sniping from Hera, still bitter over the Hippolyte girdle debacle.
Hercules overcame all these challenges with the calm task-focus of the uber-manager that he had become, secure in the belief that he was operating under higher guidance and with a rapidly approaching retirement date in mind.
On a roll with Hercules
Task Six: Killing the Stymphalian Birds
The second half of Hercules' career illustrates the law of diminishing returns for the manager tasked with simply doing more of the same.
Killing the man-eating Stymphalian Birds required a certain amount of cunning to distract this flock of giant storks after which they were easy prey for his poisoned arrows. Inevitably, frustration with his apparently endless set of penances set in. Hercules began to question the purpose of his mission, the futility of his endlessly acquisitive tasks and the weariness in his bones at the end of each notionally successful project. He needed a mid-career time-out. Instead he got an overseas assignment.
Task Seven: Capturing the Cretan Bull
The challenge of capturing the Cretan bull offered Hercules the opportunity to travel to the island of Crete and pit his warrior wits and skills against a savage bull busy terrorizing the streets of Knossos. The showdown was spectacular and brutally efficient with the victory going to the proven turnaround manager. Cowabunga.
One interesting side effect of this successful project was the reaction of King Eurystheus, Hercules’ customer for the performance of all his tasks. The unreliable and frankly intimidated king reacted to his star manager’s latest accomplishment by locking himself away in a brass lined bunker and refusing to have any dealings with the all conquering hero. From now on tasks and targets were communicated by written memo only. The headhunters circled overhead.
Task Eight: Killing the Mares of Diomedes
The notorious man-eating mares of King Diomedes were Hercules’ next target. This was another one-off mission to rid the known world of a declared menace. Hercules settled into battle-hardened project manager mode and hired a team of contractors to carry out the mission.
The ferociously demented horses were successfully subdued by his well directed team and Diomedes was ceremoniously fed to his own carnivorous herd. Harsh but fair.
This task marks Hercules’ ability to delegate and direct operations from a distance. He has grown in stature to the point where his very association with a project all but guarantees its success and where others look to him for both strategic and operational direction. He has become a management brand.
The second half of Hercules' career illustrates the law of diminishing returns for the manager tasked with simply doing more of the same.
Killing the man-eating Stymphalian Birds required a certain amount of cunning to distract this flock of giant storks after which they were easy prey for his poisoned arrows. Inevitably, frustration with his apparently endless set of penances set in. Hercules began to question the purpose of his mission, the futility of his endlessly acquisitive tasks and the weariness in his bones at the end of each notionally successful project. He needed a mid-career time-out. Instead he got an overseas assignment.
Task Seven: Capturing the Cretan Bull
The challenge of capturing the Cretan bull offered Hercules the opportunity to travel to the island of Crete and pit his warrior wits and skills against a savage bull busy terrorizing the streets of Knossos. The showdown was spectacular and brutally efficient with the victory going to the proven turnaround manager. Cowabunga.
One interesting side effect of this successful project was the reaction of King Eurystheus, Hercules’ customer for the performance of all his tasks. The unreliable and frankly intimidated king reacted to his star manager’s latest accomplishment by locking himself away in a brass lined bunker and refusing to have any dealings with the all conquering hero. From now on tasks and targets were communicated by written memo only. The headhunters circled overhead.
Task Eight: Killing the Mares of Diomedes
The notorious man-eating mares of King Diomedes were Hercules’ next target. This was another one-off mission to rid the known world of a declared menace. Hercules settled into battle-hardened project manager mode and hired a team of contractors to carry out the mission.
The ferociously demented horses were successfully subdued by his well directed team and Diomedes was ceremoniously fed to his own carnivorous herd. Harsh but fair.
This task marks Hercules’ ability to delegate and direct operations from a distance. He has grown in stature to the point where his very association with a project all but guarantees its success and where others look to him for both strategic and operational direction. He has become a management brand.
The Fifth Task of Hercules - showtime!
Task Five: Cleansing the Stables of Augeas
The next task is amongst the most intriguing examples of problem-solving undertaken by the experienced and successful Hercules. Augeas the King of Elis had not mucked out his three thousand head cattle stables for ten years. In management terms this was the equivalent of taking over a subsidiary company with environmental liabilities and data integrity problems a mile wide and two miles deep.
Following his first site visit to the stables, Hercules sat down with the King and negotiated a performance-related contract and set of stock options. He asked for ten percent of the King’s head of cattle if he was able to clean the stables of their accumulated mire. Agreed. No idea how to do it.
Hercules sat on a hill overlooking the Augean Stables for a while and contemplated the problem in hand. It was not an heroic arrow and club solution. No amount of patient tracking nor skilful trapping would shift the shit. Nothing in his experience had prepared him for this conundrum of a challenge. As the sun sank, it reflected off the waters of the River Alpheus running past the stables. His solution simply emerged from the natural environment as he sat there enjoying some 'blue sky' time.
The next day Hercules dug ditches and diverted the river so that it ran through the filthy stables and scoured them clean before returning to its natural course.
Although impressed with the results, the King refused to honour the 10% deal invoking a clause about unnatural forces. Hercules’ response was ruthless. He deposed the King and installed his son as a subservient monarch thus effectively securing 100% direct equity in the kingdom.
The Augean Stables represent the peak of Hercules’s powers as the hero manager. He has demonstrated his ability to move beyond simple brute force solutions and through the sheer power of innovative thought has delivered outstanding operational results and superior shareholder return. He's also in danger of believing his own bullshit - literally.
The next task is amongst the most intriguing examples of problem-solving undertaken by the experienced and successful Hercules. Augeas the King of Elis had not mucked out his three thousand head cattle stables for ten years. In management terms this was the equivalent of taking over a subsidiary company with environmental liabilities and data integrity problems a mile wide and two miles deep.
Following his first site visit to the stables, Hercules sat down with the King and negotiated a performance-related contract and set of stock options. He asked for ten percent of the King’s head of cattle if he was able to clean the stables of their accumulated mire. Agreed. No idea how to do it.
Hercules sat on a hill overlooking the Augean Stables for a while and contemplated the problem in hand. It was not an heroic arrow and club solution. No amount of patient tracking nor skilful trapping would shift the shit. Nothing in his experience had prepared him for this conundrum of a challenge. As the sun sank, it reflected off the waters of the River Alpheus running past the stables. His solution simply emerged from the natural environment as he sat there enjoying some 'blue sky' time.
The next day Hercules dug ditches and diverted the river so that it ran through the filthy stables and scoured them clean before returning to its natural course.
Although impressed with the results, the King refused to honour the 10% deal invoking a clause about unnatural forces. Hercules’ response was ruthless. He deposed the King and installed his son as a subservient monarch thus effectively securing 100% direct equity in the kingdom.
The Augean Stables represent the peak of Hercules’s powers as the hero manager. He has demonstrated his ability to move beyond simple brute force solutions and through the sheer power of innovative thought has delivered outstanding operational results and superior shareholder return. He's also in danger of believing his own bullshit - literally.
Tasks Three and Four for our Hero Manager
Task Three: Capture of the Ceryneian Hind
The next project ran for a full year. It involved the tracking, trapping and translocation of an exquisite deer sacred to the hunter goddess Diana. Unlike his previous targets, the sacred deer had to be captured and brought back alive and unharmed. This task was really a test of Hercules’ ability to stick with a project over time where the goal was clear from the start but where the terrain over which the animal had to be pursued was entirely uncharted.
Having captured the hind through months of patient stealth and astute reading of the environment, Hercules is confronted by Diana herself who is determined to preserve the integrity of the animal under her divine protection. The successful hunter is forced to justify his capture and ends up striking a deal with the goddess that he will guarantee the hind’s safe release once he has presented it in the flesh to his insatiable customer.
He delivers on this deal and in so doing provides one of the moments in the parable where the hero’s moral universe requires that a balance be struck between short and long term outcomes. Diana, bless her, demands and gets a sustainable solution.
Task Four: Capture of the Erymanthian Boar
In pursuit of his next task, Hercules faces the test of confronting an old and respected mentor. The target this time is a vicious wild boar that rampages around destructively in the forests of Erymanthus. The physical execution of this task, given his bloodied club and poisoned arrows, is relatively simple. It’s another day at the office for our hardened hunter-manager. The real difficulty lies in an unexpected encounter with an old relationship along the way.
Chiron the centaur is an old and highly influential teacher of Hercules. He owes him much of his undoubted skill in the arts of hunting and single combat that have served him so well in his career. In the path towards his quarry, Hercules stumbles across Chiron and a collection of his more boisterous centaur chums. A heated argument ensues and a fight breaks out in the course of which Hercules fatally wounds his former mentor. It is another defining moment in his leadership journey.
Hercules is hit by conflicting emotions - remorse for his role in felling a role model and yet relief at the release from his shackles. He can hang back and mourn or he can move on and perform. He chooses to continue the pursuit of the boar and is successful.
However, from now on it's increasingly lonely as his successes mount and he becomes more insular and isolated further up the greasy pole.
The next project ran for a full year. It involved the tracking, trapping and translocation of an exquisite deer sacred to the hunter goddess Diana. Unlike his previous targets, the sacred deer had to be captured and brought back alive and unharmed. This task was really a test of Hercules’ ability to stick with a project over time where the goal was clear from the start but where the terrain over which the animal had to be pursued was entirely uncharted.
Having captured the hind through months of patient stealth and astute reading of the environment, Hercules is confronted by Diana herself who is determined to preserve the integrity of the animal under her divine protection. The successful hunter is forced to justify his capture and ends up striking a deal with the goddess that he will guarantee the hind’s safe release once he has presented it in the flesh to his insatiable customer.
He delivers on this deal and in so doing provides one of the moments in the parable where the hero’s moral universe requires that a balance be struck between short and long term outcomes. Diana, bless her, demands and gets a sustainable solution.
Task Four: Capture of the Erymanthian Boar
In pursuit of his next task, Hercules faces the test of confronting an old and respected mentor. The target this time is a vicious wild boar that rampages around destructively in the forests of Erymanthus. The physical execution of this task, given his bloodied club and poisoned arrows, is relatively simple. It’s another day at the office for our hardened hunter-manager. The real difficulty lies in an unexpected encounter with an old relationship along the way.
Chiron the centaur is an old and highly influential teacher of Hercules. He owes him much of his undoubted skill in the arts of hunting and single combat that have served him so well in his career. In the path towards his quarry, Hercules stumbles across Chiron and a collection of his more boisterous centaur chums. A heated argument ensues and a fight breaks out in the course of which Hercules fatally wounds his former mentor. It is another defining moment in his leadership journey.
Hercules is hit by conflicting emotions - remorse for his role in felling a role model and yet relief at the release from his shackles. He can hang back and mourn or he can move on and perform. He chooses to continue the pursuit of the boar and is successful.
However, from now on it's increasingly lonely as his successes mount and he becomes more insular and isolated further up the greasy pole.
The second Herculean management task
Task Two: Killing the Hydra of Lerna
The Hydra was a venomous, swamp-dwelling, multi-headed water snake. For the task of exterminating the serpent, Hercules is assigned a management trainee, Iolaus.
Hercules’ initial approach to tackling the Hydra is to employ the same strategy that had worked with the unfortunate Nemean lion. He plunges in directly, wielding arrows and club and the first couple of heads are successfully severed. The problem here is that the harder Hercules clubs away, the deeper he sinks into the foul mud of the swamp and, to complicate matters, for every severed head, the Hydra instantly grows two more. Iolaus persuades him to withdraw and conduct some form of mid-action review. Time out, buddy, you're making things worse.
Their eventual solution is crude but effective teamwork. Iolaus helps Hercules to brand each severed head in turn, thus cauterizing the bleeding and neutralizing the creature’s exponential reproductive powers. Hercules dips his arrows in the Hydra’s dying blood thereby equipping himself with a lethal set of missiles for subsequent encounters.
A couple of things seem to be happening here. Firstly, our hero has encountered the familiar management syndrome of ‘the more you succeed, the worse the problem gets’. The more accounting errors we uncover, the more we are aware of on the next project. The more controls we put in place, the more deviously they are circumvented. He is forced by a junior but perceptive team member to back off and then tackle the problem closer to its root cause. He is fortunate in that Plan B, robustly implemented, proves too much for the exhausted serpent.
Saved from his own strength, Hercules is free to move to his next task.
The Hydra was a venomous, swamp-dwelling, multi-headed water snake. For the task of exterminating the serpent, Hercules is assigned a management trainee, Iolaus.
Hercules’ initial approach to tackling the Hydra is to employ the same strategy that had worked with the unfortunate Nemean lion. He plunges in directly, wielding arrows and club and the first couple of heads are successfully severed. The problem here is that the harder Hercules clubs away, the deeper he sinks into the foul mud of the swamp and, to complicate matters, for every severed head, the Hydra instantly grows two more. Iolaus persuades him to withdraw and conduct some form of mid-action review. Time out, buddy, you're making things worse.
Their eventual solution is crude but effective teamwork. Iolaus helps Hercules to brand each severed head in turn, thus cauterizing the bleeding and neutralizing the creature’s exponential reproductive powers. Hercules dips his arrows in the Hydra’s dying blood thereby equipping himself with a lethal set of missiles for subsequent encounters.
A couple of things seem to be happening here. Firstly, our hero has encountered the familiar management syndrome of ‘the more you succeed, the worse the problem gets’. The more accounting errors we uncover, the more we are aware of on the next project. The more controls we put in place, the more deviously they are circumvented. He is forced by a junior but perceptive team member to back off and then tackle the problem closer to its root cause. He is fortunate in that Plan B, robustly implemented, proves too much for the exhausted serpent.
Saved from his own strength, Hercules is free to move to his next task.
The Twelve Labours of Hercules - a management fable for our times
Hercules was the son of Alcemene, a mortal queen of Thebes and of Zeus, immortal King of the Gods in ancient Greece. From his contested birth through his disturbed childhood and throughout his eventful life, he was the product and the sum of all the dreadful machinations that the mythological Greek universe could conjure up. He came to represent strength of physique, presence and purpose in the face of incalculable odds and obstacles.
His relentless journey of trial, confrontation and discovery, symbolized by his Twelve Labours, offers us a parable of perseverance, ingenuity and learning in our own pursuit of a hostile host of modern management challenges.
Let’s get one thing out of the way to begin with. A casual glance at the list of the Twelve Labours is enough to reveal them for what they were - an extended exercise in ritualistic pillage and slaughter, an unapologetic assertion of early Mediterranean machismo, an environmentally unfriendly, amoral assault on the integrity of pretty much anybody and anything standing in the way of this abusive, task-driven ogre. For these very good reasons, the Labours make an illuminating study in modern management behaviour. Every care has been taken in the treatment of this extended metaphor to stretch the points of comparison to suit the rhetorical purpose of this piece.
Hercules had proved himself as a young hunter, warrior and scholar in ancient Thebes to such an extent that he was awarded King Creon’s daughter’s hand in marriage. However in a fit of madness induced by his enemies amongst the Gods, he lashed out and killed his wife and their children. Exile and endless penance inevitably followed. His eventual atonement was to be extremely hard earned.
His principal taskmaster and tormentor in this process was King Eurystheus, by all accounts an insecure, mean spirited and small-minded fellow. By divine appointment he became Hercules’ customer for a series of apparently impossible feats of skill and endurance. Let’s take the tasks in their recorded chronological order:
Task One: Killing the Nemean Lion
First there was the matter of destroying the Nemean Lion which had long terrorized its surrounding countryside. This was a simple test of the hunter’s courage, strength and skill in single combat. The lion was overcome by a rain of initial arrow pinpricks, a follow-up series of massive club blows and eventually ruthless strangulation.
This is Hercules the manager establishing his basic technical credentials. He can carry out a clear task through single-minded focus on a well-defined problem and deliver on time and within budget. Throughout his subsequent labours, he wears the lionskin and carries the bloodied club as talismanic symbols of his achievement and potency. His competence to deliver will not be questioned again; the tasks will just get tougher.
His relentless journey of trial, confrontation and discovery, symbolized by his Twelve Labours, offers us a parable of perseverance, ingenuity and learning in our own pursuit of a hostile host of modern management challenges.
Let’s get one thing out of the way to begin with. A casual glance at the list of the Twelve Labours is enough to reveal them for what they were - an extended exercise in ritualistic pillage and slaughter, an unapologetic assertion of early Mediterranean machismo, an environmentally unfriendly, amoral assault on the integrity of pretty much anybody and anything standing in the way of this abusive, task-driven ogre. For these very good reasons, the Labours make an illuminating study in modern management behaviour. Every care has been taken in the treatment of this extended metaphor to stretch the points of comparison to suit the rhetorical purpose of this piece.
Hercules had proved himself as a young hunter, warrior and scholar in ancient Thebes to such an extent that he was awarded King Creon’s daughter’s hand in marriage. However in a fit of madness induced by his enemies amongst the Gods, he lashed out and killed his wife and their children. Exile and endless penance inevitably followed. His eventual atonement was to be extremely hard earned.
His principal taskmaster and tormentor in this process was King Eurystheus, by all accounts an insecure, mean spirited and small-minded fellow. By divine appointment he became Hercules’ customer for a series of apparently impossible feats of skill and endurance. Let’s take the tasks in their recorded chronological order:
Task One: Killing the Nemean Lion
First there was the matter of destroying the Nemean Lion which had long terrorized its surrounding countryside. This was a simple test of the hunter’s courage, strength and skill in single combat. The lion was overcome by a rain of initial arrow pinpricks, a follow-up series of massive club blows and eventually ruthless strangulation.
This is Hercules the manager establishing his basic technical credentials. He can carry out a clear task through single-minded focus on a well-defined problem and deliver on time and within budget. Throughout his subsequent labours, he wears the lionskin and carries the bloodied club as talismanic symbols of his achievement and potency. His competence to deliver will not be questioned again; the tasks will just get tougher.
Tuesday 24 February 2009
Dido's Theorem
In times of cost-cutting, lay-offs and dramatic reductions, people sometimes huddle together for comfort in corporate workshops. There is a simple little workshop exercise about how to do more with less that goes something like this:
Divide people into groups of roughly six and equip each group with a single sheet of flipchart paper and a pair of scissors. Read them the riot act about using the scissors safely (particularly if they are adults) and assure them that the exercise has an eventual relevance and purpose. Ask each group to put the sheet of paper on the floor and stand on it. This produces a certain immediate intimacy to the exercise. Then ask one person in each group to use the scissors to cut the paper in half, dispose of one half, put the remaining half a sheet back on the floor and re-occupy the paper this time with at least one foot of every member of the group in contact with the paper. This is distinctly awkward and beginning to resemble that grimly cheerful 1970's party game, Twister. Now repeat the process and ask the scissorhands to cut the paper in half again and fit everybody onto what amounts to 25% of the original area. And repeat if necessary until general chaos prevails.
At about this point in the exercise, at least one group of participants will become sufficiently uncomfortable so as to come up with a different solution. In doing so, they are drawing inspiration, often unwittingly, from Dido, fabled and fabulous Phoenician Queen of Carthage. The foundation myth of ancient Carthage has it that Dido arrived battered and bedraggled on what is now the Tunisian coast of the Mediterranean seeking refuge from her vengeful family in Tyre. She asked her surprised hosts whether she could occupy a small plot of their bountiful land. 'How small?' they asked, guardedly. 'Oh, no more than I could cover with a single ox-hide,' fluttered Dido playing the grateful refugee. 'Go ahead,' they invited her graciously, no doubt picturing a tidy, temporary refugee encampment, whereupon Dido instructed her robber band to cut the ox-hide into the thinnest of strips and lay them end to end thereby encircling an area the size of the small and highly prosperous city-state of Carthage.
Which is much the same solution that my workshop participants enjoy finding for themselves. The need for ingenuity, a creative response to discomfort and a different way of thinking about dwindling resources and spatial relationships is easily linked to this otherwise innocent party game.
Sometimes less is more and not just isoperimetrically.
Divide people into groups of roughly six and equip each group with a single sheet of flipchart paper and a pair of scissors. Read them the riot act about using the scissors safely (particularly if they are adults) and assure them that the exercise has an eventual relevance and purpose. Ask each group to put the sheet of paper on the floor and stand on it. This produces a certain immediate intimacy to the exercise. Then ask one person in each group to use the scissors to cut the paper in half, dispose of one half, put the remaining half a sheet back on the floor and re-occupy the paper this time with at least one foot of every member of the group in contact with the paper. This is distinctly awkward and beginning to resemble that grimly cheerful 1970's party game, Twister. Now repeat the process and ask the scissorhands to cut the paper in half again and fit everybody onto what amounts to 25% of the original area. And repeat if necessary until general chaos prevails.
At about this point in the exercise, at least one group of participants will become sufficiently uncomfortable so as to come up with a different solution. In doing so, they are drawing inspiration, often unwittingly, from Dido, fabled and fabulous Phoenician Queen of Carthage. The foundation myth of ancient Carthage has it that Dido arrived battered and bedraggled on what is now the Tunisian coast of the Mediterranean seeking refuge from her vengeful family in Tyre. She asked her surprised hosts whether she could occupy a small plot of their bountiful land. 'How small?' they asked, guardedly. 'Oh, no more than I could cover with a single ox-hide,' fluttered Dido playing the grateful refugee. 'Go ahead,' they invited her graciously, no doubt picturing a tidy, temporary refugee encampment, whereupon Dido instructed her robber band to cut the ox-hide into the thinnest of strips and lay them end to end thereby encircling an area the size of the small and highly prosperous city-state of Carthage.
Which is much the same solution that my workshop participants enjoy finding for themselves. The need for ingenuity, a creative response to discomfort and a different way of thinking about dwindling resources and spatial relationships is easily linked to this otherwise innocent party game.
Sometimes less is more and not just isoperimetrically.
Wednesday 18 February 2009
Saturday 14 February 2009
Dog sense
An Alsatian went to a telegram office, took out a blank form and wrote, “Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof.”
The clerk examined the paper and politely told the dog: “There are only nine words here. You could send another ‘Woof’ for the same price.”
“But,” the dog replied, “that would make no sense at all.”
I like this one for its immediate leap into the imaginary. Also, nobody gets hurt, it's quick and easy to tell and it illustrates one the basic points of many of my workshops which is that we all see the world differently and make sense and meaning out of words in different ways.
Woof.
The clerk examined the paper and politely told the dog: “There are only nine words here. You could send another ‘Woof’ for the same price.”
“But,” the dog replied, “that would make no sense at all.”
I like this one for its immediate leap into the imaginary. Also, nobody gets hurt, it's quick and easy to tell and it illustrates one the basic points of many of my workshops which is that we all see the world differently and make sense and meaning out of words in different ways.
Woof.
The Russians used a pencil
Today I'm sending a few pencils to a few friends. This is by no means a Valentine's Day inspired fit of romantic generosity (I'm not prone to these) but rather an acknowledgement of their role in the development of my thinking about management. The pencils are standard implements, made in Taiwan and bought from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. They are stamped and labelled with the legend 'Russian Space Pens'. As museum shop memorabilia they pay tribute not so much to the ingenuity of some nameless Soviet cosmonautical designer as to the subsequent wash of Western management literature which has fed off this delightful and doubtless apocryphal story for years.
The story for whatever it's worth is that when NASA began sending manned satellites into space they needed to equip their astronauts with handy data recording devices which could work perfectly on any surface, at extreme temperatures and under zero gravity conditions. The standard ball point pen failed all these tests. Several years and millions of dollars of research time later, some bright spark at NASA asked the "I wonder where this might have been done before?" question and discovered that, faced with the same challenge, the Russians had simply used their pencils.
So when my friends receive their immaculately packaged pencils through the post this week, they might well exclaim, "Aha, time to think outside the box again" or "Keep it simple, stupid" or "Back to the Future time" or any of the other well worn management maxims that they have skilfully used the Russian space pen story to support over the years. Or maybe they'll just pop it behind their ear on their way to work without thinking too much about it - the way my grandfather did.
The story for whatever it's worth is that when NASA began sending manned satellites into space they needed to equip their astronauts with handy data recording devices which could work perfectly on any surface, at extreme temperatures and under zero gravity conditions. The standard ball point pen failed all these tests. Several years and millions of dollars of research time later, some bright spark at NASA asked the "I wonder where this might have been done before?" question and discovered that, faced with the same challenge, the Russians had simply used their pencils.
So when my friends receive their immaculately packaged pencils through the post this week, they might well exclaim, "Aha, time to think outside the box again" or "Keep it simple, stupid" or "Back to the Future time" or any of the other well worn management maxims that they have skilfully used the Russian space pen story to support over the years. Or maybe they'll just pop it behind their ear on their way to work without thinking too much about it - the way my grandfather did.
Friday 13 February 2009
James Gardener
This is not my first attempt to create a blog posting but it is my most determined to date.
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