Archive for the ‘General Management’ Category
Models and messes in management – from best practices to appropriate practices
Scientific models and management
Physicists build mathematical models that represent selected aspects of reality. These models are based on a mix of existing knowledge, observations, intuition and mathematical virtuosity. A good example of such a model is Newton’s law of gravity according to which the gravitational force between two objects (planets, apples or whatever) varies in inverse proportion to the square of the distance between them. The model was a brilliant generalization based on observations made by Newton and others (Johannes Kepler, in particular), supplemented by Newton’s insight that the force that keeps the planets revolving round the sun is the same as the one that made that mythical apple fall to earth. In essence Newton’s law tells us that planetary motions are caused by gravity and it tells us – very precisely – the effects of the cause. In short: it embodies a cause-effect relationship.
[Aside: The validity of a physical model depends on how well it stands up to the test of reality. Newton’s law of gravitation is remarkably successful in this regard: among many other things, it is the basis of orbital calculations for all space missions. The mathematical model expressed by Newton’s law is thus an established scientific principle. That said, it should be noted that models of the physical world are always subject to revision in the light of new information. For example, Newton’s law of gravity has been superseded by Einstein’s general theory of relativity. Nevertheless for most practical applications it remains perfectly adequate.]
Given the spectacular success of modeling in the physical and natural sciences, it is perhaps unsurprising that early management theorists attempted to follow the same approach. Fredrick Taylor stated this point of view quite clearly in the introduction to his classic monograph, The Principles of Scientific Management. Here are the relevant lines:
This paper has been written…to prove that the best management is a true science, resting upon clearly defined laws, rules and principles, as a foundation. And further to show that the fundamental principles of scientific management are applicable to all human activities, from our simplest individual activities to the work of great corporations, which call for the most elaborate cooperation. And briefly, through a series of illustrations, to convince the reader that whenever these principles are correctly applied, results must follow which are truly astounding…
From this it appears that Taylor’s intent was to prove that management could be reduced to a set of principles that govern all aspects of work in organizations.
The question is: how well did it work?
The origin of best practices
Over time, Taylor’s words were used to justify the imposition of one-size-fits-all management practices that ignored human individuality and uniqueness of organisations. Although, Taylor was aware of these factors, he believed commonalities were more important than differences. This thinking is well and alive to this day: although Taylor’s principles are no longer treated as gospel, their spirit lives on in the notion of standardized best practices.
There are now a plethora of standards or best practices for just about any area of management. They are often sold using scientific language, terms such as principles and proof. Consider the following passage taken from from the Official PRINCE2 site:
Because PRINCE2 is generic and based on proven principles, organisations adopting the method as a standard can substantially improve their organisational capability and maturity across multiple areas of business activity – business change, construction, IT, mergers and acquisitions, research, product development and so on.
There are a couple of other things worth noting in the above passage. First, there is an implied cause-effect relationship between the “proven principles” and improvements in “organizational capability and maturity across multiple areas of business activity.” Second, as alluded to above, the human factor is all but factored out – there is an implication that this generic standard can be implemented by anyone anywhere and the results will inevitably be as “truly astounding” as Taylor claimed.
Why best practices are not the best
There are a number of problems with the notion of a best practice. I discuss these briefly below.
First, every organisation is unique. Yes, much is made of commonalities between organisations, but it is the differences that make them unique. Arguably, it is also the differences that give organisations their edge. As Stanley Deetz mentioned in his 2003 Becker lecture:
In today’s world unless you have exceptionally low labor costs, competitive advantage comes from high creativity, highly committed employees and the ability to customize products. All require a highly involved, participating workforce. Creativity requires letting differences make a difference. Most high-end companies are more dependent on the social and intellectual capital possessed by employees than financial investment.
Thoughtless standardization through the use of best practices is a sure way to lose those differences that could make a difference.
Second, in their paper entitled, De-Contextualising Competence: Can Business Best Practice be Bundled and Sold, Jonathan Wareham and Han Gerrits pointed out that organisations operate in vastly varying cultural and social environments. It is difficult to see how best practice approaches with their one-and-a-half-size –fits-all approach would work.
Third , Wareham and Gerrits also pointed out that best practice is often tacit and socially embedded. This invalidates the notion that it can be transferred from an organization in which it works and to another without substantial change. Context is all important.
Lastly, best practices are generally implemented in response to a perceived problem. However, they often address the symptoms rather than the root cause of the problem. For example, a project management process may attempt to improve delivery by better estimation and planning. However, the underlying cause – which may be poor communication or a dysfunctional relationship between users and the IT department –remains unaddressed.
In his 2003 Becker lecture, Stanley Deetz illustrated this point via the following fable:
… about a company formed by very short people. Since they were all short and they wanted to be highly efficient and cut costs, they chose to build their ceiling short and the doorways shorter so that they could have more work space in the same building. And, they were in fact very successful. As they became more and more successful, however, it became necessary for them to start hiring taller people. And, as they hired more and more tall people, they came to realize that tall people were at a disadvantage at this company because they had to walk around stooped over. They had to duck to go through the doorways and so forth. Of course, they hired organizational consultants to help them with the problem.
Initially they had time-and-motion experts come in. These experts taught teams of people how to walk carefully. Tall members learned to duck in stride so that going through the short doors was minimally inconvenient. And they became more efficient by learning how to walk more properly for their environment. Later, because this wasn’t working so well, they hired psychological consultants. These experts taught greater sensitivity to the difficulties of tall members of the organization. Long-term short members learned tolerance knowing that the tall people would come later to meetings, would be somewhat less able to perform their work well. They provided for tall people networks for support…
The parable is an excellent illustration of how best practices can end up addressing symptoms rather than causes.
Ambiguity + the human factor = a mess
Many organisational problems are ambiguous in that cause-effect relationships are unclear. Consequently, different stakeholders can have wildly different opinions as to what the root cause of a problem is. Moreover, there is no way to conclusively establish the validity of a particular point of view. For example, executives may see a delay in a project as being due to poor project management whereas the project manager might see it as being a consequence of poor scope definition or unreasonable timelines. The cause depends on who you ask and there is no way to establish who is right! Unlike problems in physics, organisational problems have a social dimension.
The visionary Horst Rittel coined the evocative term wicked problem to describe problems that involve many stakeholder groups with diverse and often conflicting perspectives. This makes such problems messy. Indeed, Russell Ackoff referred to wicked problems as messes. In his words, “every problem interacts with other problems and is therefore part of a set of interrelated problems, a system of problems…. I choose to call such a system a mess”
Consider an example that is quite common in organisations: the question of how to improve efficiency. Management may frame this issue in terms of tighter managerial control and launch a solution that involves greater oversight. In contrast, a workgroup within the organisation may see their efficiency being impeded by bureaucratic control that results from increased oversight, and thus may believe that the road to efficiency lies in giving workgroups greater autonomy. In this case there is a clear difference between the aims of management (to exert greater control) and those of workgroups (to work autonomously). Ideally, the two ought to talk it over and come up with a commonly agreed approach. Unfortunately they seldom do. The power structure in organisations being what it is, management’s solution usually prevails and, as a consequence, workgroup morale plummets. See this post for an interesting case study on one such situation.
Summing up: a need for appropriate practice, not best practice
The great attraction of best practices, and one of the key reasons for their popularity, is that they offer apparently straightforward solutions to complex problems. However, such problems typically have a social dimension because they affect different stakeholders in different ways. They are messes whose definition depends on who you ask. So there is no agreement on what the problem is, let alone its solution. This fact by itself limits the utility of the best practice approach to organisational problem solving. Purveyors of best practices may use terms like “proven”, “established”, “measurable” etc. to lend an air of scientific respectability to their wares, but the truth is that unless all stakeholders have a shared understanding of the problem and a shared commitment to solving it, the practice will fail.
In our recently published book entitled, The Heretic’s Guide to Best Practices, Paul Culmsee and I describe in detail the issues with the best practice approach to organisational problem-solving. More important, we provide a practical approach that can help you work with stakeholders to achieve a shared understanding of a problem and a shared commitment to a commonly agreed course of action. The methods we discuss can be used in small settings or larger one, so you will find the book useful regardless of where you sit in your organisation’s hierarchy. In essence our book is a manifesto for replacing the concept of best practice with that of appropriate practice – practice with a human face that is appropriate for you in your organisation and particular situation.
Macrovisions and micromanagement
Introduction
Much has been written about leadership, management and the difference between them. The former is associated with creating a shared vision and strategy for the future whereas the latter has administrative and bureaucratic connotations. Most organisations celebrate leadership but consider management to be little more than an operational necessity.
In view of the exaggerated rhetoric regarding leadership it is of interest to ask how it is actually practiced on the ground. This question was investigated by Mats Alvesson and Sven Sveningsson in a brilliant paper entitled, Good Visions, Bad Micro-management and Ugly Ambiguity: Contradictions of (Non-) Leadership in a Knowledge-Intensive Organization. In this post I elaborate on one of their key conclusions: that there is a gap between the espoused view of leadership and its practice.
Leadership in theory
The emphasis on leadership in management theory has lead to the widely accepted notion that leaders matter and that their actions can affect organizational performance and effect change in a positive way. Moreover it is also assumed that it is straightforward to identify leadership qualities in people as these manifest themselves through a set of well-defined behaviours and attitudes. In other words, leadership is a stable and robust concept. The main aim of the authors was to find out how well this theoretical conception of leadership holds up in the real world.
The case study and research methodology
The authors conducted a detailed study of how managers in a knowledge-intensive organisation viewed and practiced leadership. The study consisted of extensive, multiple interviews with managers at different levels in the company (from the CEO to project managers) supplemented by observations made at management meetings. Two rounds of interviews were conducted. In the first round, the authors asked the interviewees what their jobs entailed. Most responses centered on vision, leadership and strategy. However, when asked to elaborate on their responses, most managers described their day-to-day work in terms of administrative and bureaucratic managerial procedures. This pointed to a gap between espoused leadership and how it is actually practiced. In the second round of interviews, the authors attempted to gain some insights into the reasons for the gap.
Macrovisions: the espoused view of leadership
The authors observed that when asked questions about their jobs, most managers spoke of leadership and how they practiced it. Big picture topics such as vision and strategy – what I call macrovisions – were recurrent themes in their responses . Most managers claimed that their job was to articulate such macrovisions while leaving the details of day-to-day operations to their subordinates. As examples, consider the following responses from interviewees:
A strongly knowledge intensive work as ours build on independent and active employees who has (sic) the ability to take their own initiative.
This is consistent with modern themes of worker autonomy in decision, particularly in knowledge-intensive organisations such as information or biotechnology. Reinforcing this, another manager said:
I try not to interfere too much in operations. That would be wrong in every way, no one would benefit from that, but I am available if anyone has an operative question, otherwise it’s more me trying to make myself unavoidable in strategic issues but avoidable in operational issues.
Yet another manager spoke of macrovisions in the following way:
And if you provide the big picture, if there is a sense that these [minor decisions] are in the context of the wider strategy and it is not just, bang, bang [shooting with finger from the hip] we shoot this one and now we shoot that one, and now we gallop off in some other direction; if it fits a bigger picture, then I think we can manage. But that is where leadership comes in I think, we need to provide that context and the picture and the overall direction, to say “we are not here in the middle and you cannot [be allowed to] ride off in just any direction.
Macrovisions thus appeared to provide a broad framework within which employees had the freedom to make decisions that were broadly consistent with the organisation’s strategy.
Again, it is important to emphasise that managers were not specifically asked about visions, strategy or leadership, yet their responses invariably alluded to these themes. The responses suggest that most managers in the company viewed leadership rather than management as their primary role.
This was consistent with the overall management vision set by senior executives. As the authors put it:
The expectations formulated by higher-level senior managers and made explicit by the CEO on various occasions, is that managers should refrain from detailed management
Indeed, some managers spoke of managing details in derogatory terms. Consider the following response:
Requesting detail which is of no value to your personal job or position, and that can be detail about a specific office, budget thing through to really me going down to the project level and saying, “Well, how are we doing on that project and I really want to know”, so it is about the ability not to do that, and delegate and trust the people.
In short: most managers felt that their work involved articulating and implementing macrovisions rather than practising micromanagement.
Micromanagement: the practice of “leadership”
A natural question arising from the above is: how did managers actually practice leadership? What are the things they did in their day-to-day work that exemplified leadership?
To answer this question, interviewees were asked what they did in their day-to-day work. Strangely, most managers reverted to themes they had described in uncomplimentary terms. For example, when asked to elaborate on how he practiced leadership, one manager said:
There are many different ways of working. I think that as a manager here one has to implement significantly more directive ways of handling people, that is, that you say to people that you will spend the next month occupying yourself with this development, I want you to learn about this. I think that you have to have a much more directive way of handling of people in these operations.
This was not an isolated case; another manager said:
I do get involved from a technical viewpoint, I expect, obviously my knowledge is still developing here, but I expect to understand quite consciously what the group is doing.
Yet another manager, when asked about the leadership tools that he used, referred to things such as budgets, recruitment etc. – things that are usually concerned bureaucratic, administrative procedures. There was little if any reference to activities that one might associate with leadership.
There is thus a clear gap between what the managers professed to practice and what they actually practiced. In the authors’ words:
…the responses brought forth aspects of managerial activities obviously quite far removed from most understandings of leadership in contemporary management literature and also from the more ‘grandiose’ ideas on the subject that they also claim to believe in and base their work on. Managers therefore talk of themselves as leaders without doing much that clearly and strongly refers to ‘leadership activities’. The case study exhibits the contrary: the activities of managers are more closely related to what is understood as micro-management…
Indeed this view was confirmed when the authors spoke with lower level managers. A project manager said:
Perhaps there’s a dialogue about that (leadership) that doesn’t really percolate down to those in production and it tends to become reactive. And micro-management, there’s a will to know too much in detail, when perhaps they should really be working with empowerment, that people are able to take responsibility, to send responsibility for the budget to me and have faith that I take responsibility for my colleagues, and all the positive talk such as “we are going to be the company of choice”, how are we going to realize all that, there’s too much administrative detail going through my superior.
…so much for all the talk of leadership.
The rhetoric and reality of leadership
From the above it is clear that we have a paradoxical situation: managers believed they were being leaders when they are actually weren’t leading at all. The question is: why did this happen?
The authors offer a number of speculations for this, which I briefly outline below.
Firstly, leadership qualities are generally seen as desirable. Management literature and education tends to place leadership at the pinnacle of managerial practice. Consequently, there is considerable pressure on managers at the middle and senior levels to display these qualities.
Secondly, there is the issue of identity; how managers see themselves. Like those described in the case study, most managers would like to view what they do as leadership rather than “mere” management or administration. As a result, they may unconsciously describe what they do in the flattering language of leadership rather than the mundane terms of management. However, as the authors stated in the paper, “Leadership talk and fantasies seem to leave a thin spray of grandiosity on the ‘leaders’” Clearly, this may be of more use in bolstering managerial self-esteem than anything else.
Thirdly, managers often have to deal with conflicting agendas and requirements. In the case study managers were expected to display leader-like behaviour. However, at the same time, they were held responsible for specific and very tangible results. To deliver on the latter, they often felt they had to keep track of the details of what their teams were doing and step in when things were going wrong. There was a continual pressure to get involved in detail while maintaining the illusion of being leaders.
Another point that the authors do not mention explicitly is that middle and frontline managers are often expected to lead without being given the autonomy to do so.
It is likely that some or all of the above factors lead to a divergence between the rhetoric and reality of leadership.
Conclusion
The central message of the paper is that the concept of leadership is an idealization that is often compromised in practice. Most people who work in organisations will not find this surprising: managers are generally aware that their day-to-day work has little in common with the rarefied notions of leadership promoted by management schools, while others are likely to have worked with micromanagers who are masquerading as macrovisionaries.
To freeze or to flee: a water dragon’s perspective on managing change
Over the last few weeks, it has been raining quite a bit in Sydney. Last weekend I took advantage of a break in the rain and went bushwalking in the Lane Cove National Park with a friend. The park lies along the Lane Cove River – a picturesque little waterway that runs through suburban Sydney. The track we walked along was a bit slippery from the rain of the previous weeks but was drying out nicely in the morning sun.
One of the consequences of sunny weather after a long spell of rain is that reptiles tend to seek open spaces to soak in some sun. With dense vegetation on either side, the open, rocky areas on the track were inviting spots for reptiles looking to sunbathe. I thought we might see snake or two but we didn’t. Instead we walked into a number of Eastern Water Dragons, semi-aquatic lizards that are common in eastern Australia (see Figure 1). Incidentally, fully-grown water dragons are a pretty impressive sight, growing up to a metre in length. They are also quite well camouflaged, black stripes over a grey-brown coat that merges nicely with the rock-and-mud colours of the track.
Figure 1 - Eastern water dragon
When a water dragon sunbathes, it stays still, rock-like, for long periods of time. This makes sense from a safety perspective: motion might attract the attention of predators (mainly omnivorous native birds such as Currawongs and Kookaburras). So the reptile remains statue-like, perfectly camouflaged by colours that merge with the ground it lies on…until a blundering bushwalker disturbs its repose, like we did many times (to many lizards) last weekend. At that point the creature has two options: to freeze (maintain the status quo) or to flee (turn tail and scuttle off).
The water dragon senses approaching bushwalkers by the disturbance caused by their footfalls along the trail, further amplified by the crackling of leaves and brush that come underfoot. To the water dragon, the approaching footfalls signify an unknown: it could be benign but could also be a predator on the prowl. It is safest to assume the latter because if the lizard chooses the former wrongly it could end up dead. However, even if it is a predator, it is quite possible that the lizards’s superb camouflage will do its job and render it unnoticeable. (Besides, it is comfortable out there in the sun, so there’s an understandable reluctance to move.) Consequently, the first reaction of the lizard is to continue its statue-like stance, but remain alert to the danger. As the footsteps get closer it reassesses the situation continually, deciding whether to run for it or stay put. At some point, a threshold is reached and the lizard dashes off into the undergrowth (or a stream, if there’s one handy – water dragons are good swimmers).
Now, if there were no blundering bushwalker, the dragon would presumably continue basking in the sun undisturbed. The bushwalker changes the lizard’s environment and the lizard reacts to this change in one of the two ways it knows – it stays put (does nothing) or runs (takes evasive action). Both actions are aimed at self-preservation – we can take it as given that the lizard does not want to be a lizard-eater’s lunch! The first action has the benefit of not expending energy unnecessarily, but could lead to an unpleasant end. The second is a better guarantor of safety but involves some effort. There is a tradeoff: not becoming lunch involves understanding that there is no such thing as a free lunch.
The interesting thing is that the threshold seems to vary from dragon to dragon. When I used the phrase “walking into” earlier in this piece, I meant it quite literally: many times we didn’t notice a recumbent reptile until we were almost upon it. At other times, though, a startled slinker would speed off when we were several metres away. It seems some water dragons scare easily while others don’t. In either case, the lizard makes an assessment of the situation based on the information gleaned through its senses and then decides on a course of action.
These musings got me thinking about workplace change and our reactions to it. Although such changes are rarely life threatening, they can be unsettling. I thought it interesting that the most typical reactions to workplace change are much like those of a water dragon to approaching footsteps. Many (most?) people is to attempt to maintain the status quo and failing that, they quit for (supposedly) greener pastures. This is a perfectly normal reaction considering our evolutionary heritage – most creatures (be they water dragons or humans) prefer the familiar and will do what they can to avoid change. It is no surprise, then, that our first reactions to changes forced upon us is to:
- Pretend they haven’t occurred or
- Run away from them.
The implications for management are the following: since the above is pretty much a guaranteed first reaction from those affected, change management initiatives need to address it upfront. This isn’t the same as the “what’s in it for me” (or WIIFM) factor – it is more basic than that – it is the loss of the familiar world. What is needed is reassurance that the changes are benign – or even better, beneficial – to those affected. On the other hand, if there are going to be negative consequences, then it is best to state – early in the process – that people’s work conditions (or employment) are under threat. In this case folks know exactly what’s coming and can make their own plans to deal with it. Unfortunately, this kind of honesty is rare – organisations seem to prefer to keep their employees stumbling around in a fog of uncertainty.
The implication for employees is much more straightforward. There is a key difference between humans and water dragons: we can think before we act, water dragons can’t. Consequently, we have a third option available to us, one that involves neither freezing nor fleeing – it is to face up to changes and adapt to them.
Eight to Late 