Apr 25, 2024 | Culture, Leadership
‘Resilience’ is a word we are hearing a lot these days and will hear more today.
On this ANZAC day 2024, there will be a lot of words sprayed around that amount to acknowledgement of the resilience of ANZAC troops.
They clung to the cliffs on the Gallipoli peninsular, died in the mud of Passchendaele, slogged across the Owen Stanleys a couple of times, and lived under rocks in the seaside splendour of Tobruk.
It is used to describe both the personal characteristics required of the individual, and the culture of organisations.
The dictionary definition leaves a bit to be desired, referring to the ability of a person or organisation to return to a previous state. ‘Elasticity’ is a common simile.
How do we measure resilience? If we cannot measure it, as the saying goes, we cannot improve it.
What is the measure of resilience shown by the ANZACS in those meat grinders? Indeed, how do we measure the resilience of those at home, watching as the casualty lists were posted?
In a commercial context, resilience implies the degree to which an enterprise is able to absorb and adjust to the unexpected. Usually, it refers to the short term from the decisions made by others that drive an unexpected outcome that changes the status quo. Substantial competitive moves, new products that deliver new value, or the emergence of something that could be classed to some degree as ‘disruptive’.
Measuring by financial outcomes is misleading. Financial outcomes are the result of other decisions taken on the inputs to the business. Do that well, and you become financially secure, do it poorly and you go out of business.
The allied high command on the Western Front measured the outcomes of their initiatives by two things: the ground gained, and the casualties incurred. Of the two, the first was the more important to them. Field Marshall Haig never got close enough to the lines to understand the resilience required to ‘jump the bags’, again. The linkage and enormous gap between his orders, written in the splendour of the Château de Beaurepaire, and the squalor and death on the front lines that was the outcome, was never meaningfully acknowledged.
Measuring outcomes is always easier than measuring the inputs, then allocating cause and effect to the decisions but is rarely useful. Just as measuring your weight every morning will not assist you to lose weight in the absence of resulting reduction in calories, throwing yourself at a machine gun nest will not win ground.
It does however require resilience, courage, and dedication to both those beside you, the wider objective, and willingness to ‘do the work’.
In our modern world, despite the continuous marketing of the silver bullet products promising the contrary, there is no substitute for domain knowledge, planning, optimised resource allocation, and the sheer resilience to stick at it in the face of adversity.
It comes down to the culture at the micro level. How the individual behaves, and how that behaviour translates to the immediate group.
It has always be so.
It is a lovely autumn day in Sydney, as we reflect on those that gave us the opportunity to enjoy the freedoms we take for granted. It is also my beautiful daughters 38th birthday. Happy birthday Jenn!
How time flies.
The header is an arial photo of the gorge, hidden in the Wollemi State Forest, after the fires of 2019-20. The green spine is made up of the only stand left of Wollemi Pines. They have survived since the dinosaurs roamed the area. Resilience.
Apr 22, 2024 | Governance, Innovation
Suddenly, everyone is interested in batteries.
When mobile devices took off after the launch of the iPhone, the demand for batteries with a longer life than the then existing chemistry could deliver took off as well. Panasonic held a dominating position in this new market, being the major supplier of batteries made using Lithium as the power store.
Then along came Elon Musk. The first Tesla cars, the initial roadster and early models of the series 1 and 2 sedans used what was in effect just large-scale Panasonic batteries. Individual units were linked together with cooling tubes assembled into the pack to dissipate the heat generated by the lithium, which otherwise led to spectacular fires.
Musk in collaboration with Panasonic envisaged a ‘gigafactory’ in Nevada that would supply the packs. As has become a pattern, Panasonic found the task of working with Musk all too much, and were bought out. However, to the point, an essential part of a lithium battery is a range of rare minerals, amongst them Cobalt.
The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) hardly democratic, holds almost all the worlds known reserves of Cobalt. Rapid development was inevitable, as was the corruption of local power brokers, and the human rights blindness of the major corporations. Cobalt is a dangerous material, yet much of it is mined by kids in holes with a pick and shovel, dying like flies. There is a registration process designed to monitor and outlaw these practices, but they are useless.
The challenge of replacing Cobalt is therefore the focus of much scientific attention. It is the chemistry of batteries that will deliver a power to weight ratio that will guarantee longer charge life, in everything from your phone to your car, and all the other uses to which Lithium batteries are suddenly being placed.
The world as a choice of three strategies, which should be mutually exclusive:
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- Find an alternative to cobalt, and quickly.
- Find alternative sources of Cobalt, leaving the DRC out of the picture.
- Internationally strengthen and enforce the existing regulations on the mining and processing of Cobalt to remove the incentive for the current corruption and exploitation that occurs.
The first two options are clearly the best. However, the challenge of replacing Cobalt requires a scientific breakthrough that while probable, is yet to be made, and the DRC remains the primary supplier. The third option seems to be beyond our joint capability.
The first to find and commercialise a solution will reap the rewards.
Apr 17, 2024 | Change, Leadership
The following is a post that I drafted at the beginning of the Corona epidemic but did not post.
It is a personal reflection on ageism, that becomes increasingly relevant as older, retired workers I see around me now going bonkers from boredom. Few want the pressures they had as youngsters climbing the slippery corporate pole, or struggling to manage and grow an SME, but they do wish to remain useful, relevant, and earning a bit of pocket money.
By ignoring this growing cohort, we are also ignoring the wisdom of hard-won experience, and 4 years later, thought it worth the question.
At 34 I landed my first job as Marketing Manager of a stand-alone business, a significant FMCG manufacturer.
The business was an absolute basket case, and in the middle of a major investment in new facilities in Western Sydney that was financially and operationally irrational. However, the move of location encouraged a number of the marketing personnel I inherited to leave. This gave me the opportunity to recruit people who I thought had the skills and mindset to contribute to the massive task of rebuilding.
The process was a standard one for the 1980’s, via a head-hunter who provided a big list of potential people against the brief I had provided. Amongst the guidelines was a requirement that he find people who had a different background and skill set to my classic FMCG marketing history. On that list was an older bloke, late forties, who fitted pretty well the profile of what I was looking for, and who in addition, was desperate for the job. His previous employer had ‘re-engineered,’ which was one of the management fads at the time, and he had been a victim of that ‘re-engineering’.
I had several conversations with him over a couple of weeks, and eventually decided against hiring him. At the time, I rationalised this decision as being sensible, as he was late forties, seeking a job for which he was overqualified in a number of ways, working for someone who was significantly his chronological junior. I assumed he would move on as quickly as he could, leaving me with a problem I simply did not need.
Even at the time, in the back of my brain, I also knew I was intimidated by someone so much older, with far more experience across a range of areas where mine was lacking. How would it look, risking being shown up by someone who formally reported to me?
Over the subsequent 10 years as we dragged the business kicking and screaming into the 20th century, as Marketing Manager, but also controlling several other functional areas for 8 years, then GM for 2 years, I reflected on my decision about this man. How much would his experience have contributed, even if just for a short time, as we transformed the business from the basket case it had been, to the much larger and very successful business it had become.
Almost exactly a decade later, I found myself ‘re-engineered’ after ongoing differences of opinion with the Managing Director of the corporate of which we were a division, reporting at the bottom line.
It was then that the frustration and desperation he must have felt really hit home. I discovered I was too experienced to be a Marketing/Sales manager, but too inexperienced to be a General Manager/MD. It is also possible that the reality is that I am not as ‘pretty’ as some, and believe strongly in expressing views in as frank and open manner as possible. This is a toxic combination in an interview process for a corporate role.
It also seemed that at 46, and dispirited, which I had become after 18 months of relentless looking, I was too old.
Ageism had a face, and it looked back at me every morning as I shaved. In no way was that ageism deliberate, or even more than partially recognised at the time, but it was there, lurking in the background.
As a result I started to take seriously some of the conversations, advice, and a few paid ‘quick fixes’ I had delivered over the 18 months of ‘gardening leave’. The paid ones utilised not only my skills and experience, but attitude. None evolved into a long-term job. However, they paid some of the bills piling up with a young family, which was at the time gnawingly stressful.
I look on now and consider the manner in which the carnage being wrought by the Corona Virus will impact on a huge number of peoples lives. I shudder at the number who are experienced, qualified, and who will not be able to regain employment that leverages those skills.
At 68, I think I am in a better place to make a contribution than I was at 45, 55, or even 65. (I am now 72, and the observation holds)
I wonder how many Millennial, or Gen Y managers will want to risk being shown up by someone who has seen and survived a bunch of booms and their subsequent busts over a long commercial life? Just as I feared I would be shown up back in 1985.
Despite the progress made over the last 25 years in recognising the value to be contributed by genuine diversity, I fear that as we start the long road to recovery, ageism will again rear its ugly head. It will leave huge amounts of experience, resilience and capability withering in the lines of unemployed, or at best, underemployed.
Apr 15, 2024 | Governance, Leadership
We lost an intellectual giant last week, Daniel Kahneman.
Psychologist and Nobel prize winner in economics, he along with long term collaborator Amos Tversky, created what has become known as ‘Behavioural Economics’.
So what you say.
In 2010 Kahneman published research that demonstrated that income was strongly correlated with happiness at lower levels, but above a seemingly modest level (US 75K at the time) it had no effect.
In 2021, a Wharton academic Mathew Killingsworth published a paper that came to the opposite conclusion.
In order to reconcile these conflicting outcomes, Kahneman teamed up with Killingsworth and a third, neutral researcher to establish the truth.
The result was a case of diminishing returns.
It found there were substantial gains in happiness up to 200k income, but after that, diminishing returns kicked in. The ‘happiness curve’ flattens out, eventually delivering no increase in happiness with an increase in income.
This seems to make sense to me.
At a point, an increase in income does not increase happiness (I aspire to discovering that point) it just becomes a scorecard, no different from the one used on a golf course.
Given this instinctively sensible outcome, should Dr Chalmers add a level to income tax?
At a point above an income level few will ever see, impose a further meaningful tax rate on the increments?
Despite the inevitable screams, they will not miss the money, and you never know, it just might make those few happier.
Apr 10, 2024 | Analytics, Communication
It seems that ‘the truth’ is a malleable concept.
We are overwhelmed by opinion masquerading as fact, economic and social models designed to deliver a predetermined outcome, managed correlation equated to causation, and market research that asks the wrong questions of the wrong people.
What is truth to one person is nonsense to another.
We should be able to see ‘the truth’ about what has passed, there is data that should distinguish fact from fiction. However, we still fail to discern the truth from amongst the data available for analysis.
Who is winning the war in the Ukraine?
Depends on who you ask, and both sides have data that shows conclusively that they are winning.
Remember Vietnam? I do.
The Americans had an overwhelming advantage in material, technology, and logistics. How could a little country with few resources and no technology of their own, face and win against the mightiest war machine the world has ever seen?
Impossible but it happened.
Until the Tet offensive commenced in January 1968, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, apart from the North Vietnamese, that it was only a matter of time until the might of the Americans became overwhelming.
The Americans had data that proved to them they were winning, despite the secret conclusions contained in the Pentagon Papers. It was not until the spring offensive in 1974 that it was obvious to all that the American ‘Facts’ that were being analysed were irrelevant, and the conclusions drawn were terminally wrong.
The clear answer to the question in the header is: ‘only when you analyse the right data.’
Header credit: Hugh McLeod at Gapingvoid.com
