A collection of musings from a professional management scholar who used to be a wannabe musician.
Read the scholarly stuff at www.sakumantere.fi
Friday, July 25, 2008
Should managers forget strategy?
Picked up an interesting quote from Henry Mintzberg, published in Strategic Organization. Mintzberg says the most strange and wonderful things (interview by Pablo Martin de Holan, SO!, 2(2): 207-208):
"Managers should forget the word strategy. They should use their imagination instead. I believe that strategy is simply putting things together in one’s head, making sense of things in a meaningful way. When we reify strategy it suddenly becomes this Big Thing, and strategy is a sense of where you are going, what direction you and your organization are taking. Strategy in a sense is to move an organization forward, it is not this mysterious thing removed from practice. Michael Porter, but he is not the only one, tends to reify the notion of strategy. But you can do all the analysis you want; life remains rich and complicated. That is what strategy has to be about – not the neat abstractions of the executive suite, but the messy patterns of daily life and how to make sense of them. So as long as managers stay up there disconnected from the reality of their organizations, they can shout down all the strategies they like; they will never work."
So, 'reifying' strategy is what makes it so dangerous, giving it existence beyond what people do. Sounds good to me.
We took our holiday early this year and launched it with a dozen lazy days by the waterside. The first water was a lake in central Finland.
I usually have a "summer project", as I tend to get into something new each summer. This summer the new thing is recovery: trying to work out my injured elbow, trying to deal with social settings with a couple of my front teeth missing, and so on (trust me, it's a blast).
I have reinvigorated my interest in soccer by watching the European championship games, though. Can't resist the temptation to share the ultimate soccer video with you, with the grandmaster of all experts, Ron Manager analyzing a game.
I often talk to practitioners about strategy process and strategy implementation. There is a peculiar misconception that I have encountered time and time again: strategy is being confused with a set of goals, oftentimes numeric goals; "My strategy is to increase the market share of my product in Finland by 5 % during the next year", etc.
While this may sound a bit surprising, as a goal is only the intended outcome of a strategy, not the strategy itself, I find this misconception surprisingly common. In particular, when strategy is discussed at lower echelons of the organization, the communication of strategy often equals the setting of a particular set of numeric goals.
My guess would be that the overwhelming popularity of the Balanced Scorecard has something to do with this phenomenon. The image of an organization, associated with the Balanced Scorecard is that of an intricate machine, controlled by a strategic code or a program:
“Imagine entering the cockpit of a modern airplane and seeing only one instrument there. How would you feel about boarding the plane after the following discussion with the pilot? [A dialogue with the pilot discussing the merits of using other instruments as well just as the existing speed meter should be used].” - Kaplan & Norton (1996: 1).
While it would be unfair to argue that Kaplan and Norton do not acknowledge that figuring out the ways in which the desired measures are aqcuired is important, the whole metaphor seems to urge managers to forget that the "how" question is at the core of the notion of strategy; "My goal is to increase the market share of my product in Finland by 5 % during the next year, and my strategy for reaching that goal is the following...".
The balanced scorecard trend has taken the original Harvard notion of strategic management being the job of a general manager, who is not to be disturbed by operational issues, and moved the same lack of concern for operations to the level of the people in charge of operations, as absurd as it might sound. Mintzber (1991: 22-23) criticizes the "helicopter view" at all levels of the organization:
“I wonder if anyone can get the true “big picture” by just seeing above. The forest looks just like a rug from a helicopter, and anyone who has taken a walk in the forest […] knows that forests don’t look much like that from the inside. Strategists do not understand much about forests if they stay in helicopters, nor much about organizations if they stay in head offices. […] Thus, strategic thinking is also inductive thinking: seeing above must be supported by seeing below.”
At its best, strategy implementation can not only help organizational performance, but also create commitment and meaning for operational work. The strategy=goal -confusion is particularly disturbing when communicating strategy top-down. At worst, operational employees are given the objectives without the strategy to reach them - all in the name of strategy. The following clip, where a big man comes from headquarters to preach the gospel to a number of salesmen is particularly telling.
"AIDA" and "ABC" don't have much going for them as strategies, do they?
Last Monday night, after wishing good night to a few colleagues who stayed at the office after I left, I headed home with my new high tech bicycle. After ascending a steep hill, I started a steep descent. I encountered an ad hoc construction site on the road, and flew head first into the asphalt. I recall being surprised by the bump which later turned out to be a water pipe crossing the road, a desperate effort to find balance, a bitter dissappointment of not doing very well, and then - well - pain.
My elbow was fractured, I broke three front teeth and got some nasty bruises in my face. My helmet was split halfway through - had I not worn it, I probably would have died. I sustained no head, neck or jaw injuries whatsoever (except for the teeth).
As I got out of surgery on Tuesday, there was a card waiting for me on the table. I read it, my head filled with opiates, and got the message: "you get well soon, we will watch the fort". My colleagues have been great and I have received a wealth of messages and words of encouragement from friends, relatives and students and colleagues, as has my family. Luckily, the accident turned out to be a nuisance but nothing more serious - who needs a few front teeth? Or at least they can be fixed. My elbow will heal. I think I need to tell my loved ones, friends and colleagues that "hey, it's great that you're alive" more often. At least I know that getting the kind of support that I have been given the last few days has been marvelous.
The incident has re-energized my already vibrant relationship with the music of Miles Davis. After surgery, I was placed in a room with three other men. After having slept through the day , I was waken at night by a choir of snoring males (I have no doubt that I had been a member of the same choir just minutes ago). I needed to get to sleep again and turned to my iPod and noise-reduction headphones for help. What I found was Miles Davis's Prestige quintet albums, Workin', Cookin', Relaxin' and Steamin'. I listened to all four albums in a semi-conscious, semi-religious state.
The four albums are more or less an immortalization of the small jazz combo sound. After signing a record deal with Columbia, the most prestigious jazz label at the time, Miles had to fulfill his obligation to his old company, Prestige. He went to the studio with his quintet, and recorded four albums in two days. The spontaneiety of the moment, the relaxed feel with standard material and medium tempos, a "slow burn" groove.
There's the cool and human logic of Miles, the fire and wail of Coltrane, the hip groove of Philly Joe Jones, the rock solid base of Paul Chambers and the light touch of Red Garland.
While the following clip comes from a later incarnation of the same band, with Wynton Kelly replacing Red Garland on piano, and Jimmy Cobb replacing Philly Joe Jones on drums, go ahead and treat yourself a few minutes of Miles on YouTube. The song is "So What", maybe Miles's signature composition.
Struggling with one of the N+1 revisions that I have on my desk at the moment, I came across a beautiful passage on how to give advice on how to write. The text is written by John Van Maanen, a giant in the field of organizational ethnography ("Ehtnography Then and Now. Qualitative Research in Organizations and Management: An International Journal; Volume: 1 Issue: 1; 2006; p. 14):
"I am, for example, frequently asked how I write and know how to respond perfectly well to such requests. To wit:
I usually get up around seven or so and get a quick breakfast then go before eight to that Cadillac of a computer that sits on my desk for an uninterrupted three solid hours of work, usually the most productive part of my day. I take a break around eleven or so to fetch the snail mail and read my email, then it’s back to work – resisting by shear strength of character the seductions of this mail. I quit around one or so, get lunch and read the morning paper. Then back to the desk for another couple of hours until my concentration inevitably fades and I sag away from the desk around five, go for a run, take a shower and begin, drink in hand, to read over whatever it is I was writing during the day.
Piece of cake. Right? The problem of course is that I get a day like this once every two or three months. I do have a family, classes to teach, a dog to walk, administrative duties to attend to, students to meet, social attractions that call and so on. But I do think my fictional day is rather typical of the help and advice we give when someone asks how to write."
I particularly enjoy the notion that Van Maanen has a day like that once every two or three months. Man, I wish I had a day like that, everyday.