Still reading Tom Peters' book Re-Imagine (I take a long time with books, interspersing them with magazines and other books I need to read for various purposes. Peters' book is my "Weekends and Evenings" read). I'm especially attracted to his notion of the business "Grunge Factor."
You know what this is: the red tape of the white collar world. The approval forms; the data awaiting manual transfer into clumsy, non-intuitive systems; the spreadsheets demonstrating the numbers that will, hopefully, justify your project, your competency, your job.
The Grunge Factor is no longer the detritus of the corporate world; It IS the corporate world. Sadly, many of us have gotten quite used to the Grunge Factor and actually rate our performances by how well we follow its rules.
I recently had to work with a direct marketing firm that practically swam in the Grunge Factor. I wondered if they could customize my order, as it was smaller than their usual projects.
"No," they said, "That's not our policy."
"OK," I said. "I guess I'll have to buy the package for the company that's five times bigger." And I did. Next came the reams of paperwork that I filled out and faxed back, and then nothing. I called them.
"Are you ready to start my direct marketing campaign?" I asked.
"Your marketing piece is being approved," they said. "And your application needs to be approved."
"OK," I said. "But when will you be ready to start the campaign? We're running on a tight schedule."
"Not for another five days--after we receive your payment."
"But I can't wait that long. Can I give you a credit card?" There was a long pause and then some abrupt squeaks, like the sound of a machine being taxed to its limits, about to break.
"If we do we have to charge you a proceessing fee."
"That's fine. As long as it gets done tomorrow."
The next day I checked to see if the campaign had started. The names had not even been released to my printer. My order had not even been processed.
"What happened?" I said.
"We need to get approval on the additional fee we're charging you for using a credit card."
"Well you have my approval. I'll even send an email. Now, can my campaign start today?"
"No."
"Well, why not?"
"It's too late to get into the system today."
My customer service rep had forgotten something--I was not an item on her to-do list; I was a customer. An all-too-willing-to-pay customer at that. The best kind. Why couldn't she drop her process for a minute to make me happy? Because she didn't know how. She only knew her job by its processes, not by its ultimate outcomes.
Fortunately Peters thinks that the Grunge Factor has become outmoded in corporations; it's become either automated or outsourced like many commoditized services that are contracted to other nations (called Dell customer service lately?). This means that the robotic responses will be left to others. Your performance will be evaluated by how well you provide SOLUTIONS.
This scares the hell out of some people, the ones who love bureaucracy. They wouldn't admit that, of course; they would insist that they prize efficiency, and in the next breath return a hefty contract to a sales rep who didn't produce five signed copies.
I don't blame them! It's a terrifying thought, giving up your job to software and much less expensive people in Asia. It shifts their value proposition from what they do to what they think. No procedural manuals allowed.
Imagine putting in eight hours a day to think, to brainstorm, to create. There'd be no getting by without any mental skin in the game. No more putting people on hold and passing them off. The words, "we don't do that," will be banished from your vocabulary. The buck will stop with you.
I can't quite get my hands around the thought of no busywork, or no talking heads. But I do agree, the guy--or gal--with the most ideas, the most SOLUTIONS, will win!
Dies ist ein großer Ort. Ich möchte hier noch einmal.
Posted by: fahrrad | March 06, 2009 at 01:18 PM