Coming Home Late

Last night I came home late from work. About two hours later than usual. When I walked through the door, the kids were done with their baths, pajamas were on, and 2/3 were on their way toward bed. I hugged them, kissed, them, laid them down, and walked out of their room. Then it hit me.

I was five minutes away from not seeing two of my kids at all today.

If I had delayed leaving work just five minutes, if there had been just a little more traffic, then it would not have mattered to them if I was in Africa...our day would not have involved each other at all. It kind of scared me.

It turns out that I am more fortunate than I thought to get to see my kids for a couple hours every evening. For those of you who miss that involuntarily, I am so sorry. For those that miss it voluntarily, I pity you. You are missing out on the whole point of having kids...your kids.

When I get home tonight, there will be screaming. There will be laughing. There will be fighting and playing and lots of noise. Some nights it is all a little overwhelming. At least tonight, though, I am going to love it.

The Dancing Organization

We are currently reorganizing at work. This means we are taking a bunch of boxes with lines between them and making a different pattern. There is still hierarchy and a clear top-down structure. The bosses are still in charge and those below them do what they say. This is the traditional organization, the way it has always been done.

Watching the dance floor at a recent wedding made me realize, though, that there are other ways to organize. I am not sure how to put this into practice, but what if organizations were run more like dance parties? In essence...self-organizing chaos?

In this organization, there would not be bosses, there would be DJ's, providing the music that sets the mood and pace of the group. Context is defined, but not structure. The "music" taps into the shared psyche of the group, uniting and encouraging ongoing movement, but not dictating anything.

The individuals in a dancing organization would be free to improvise, but under the influence of others. Movement is initiated by some, and followed by most, with smaller groups forming and breaking up as needed. No consistent leader exists, but initiators come and go.

What do you think? Could a dancing organization exist? Would you want to work in one?

(Photo credit to Matt Andrews Photo)

What's your agenda?

Most meetings should have an agenda. Why are you there, what are you trying to accomplish, how long it will take. That is just good business.

Sometimes, though, an agenda is the last thing you need. The purpose of the meeting is just to be together, and what happens is what happens. Lunch with a friend, or breakfast with your spouse are often like that. The point is the person, not the meeting.

We run into trouble when we mix the two. No agendas at work lead to wasted time, since the people are not that important, and nothing gets accomplished. Having an agenda when you are romancing your wife is also a bad idea, it turns out (what, you don't want to look over our budget during dinner?).

So think about it before the meeting. If it needs an agenda, get one or cancel the meeting. If it does not, drop your preconceived notions. Just do not get confused.

5 reasons to make everyone in your company reapply for their job

1. Your maximum productivity targets are being exceeded.
   
2. Morale is uncomfortably high.
3. You lack the organizational will to cut staff strategically.
4. Unintended consequences are your cup of tea (they're like a box of chocolates...you never know what you're going to get).
5. The reorganization was moving too quickly and you'd prefer to drag it out.
   

Safety first...after you show you care.

At Shell, we are big on safety. We have big programs and we talk about it a lot and we are serious about it. We have to be. Our job is to extract, transport, process, and sell some of the most flammable, explosive, and toxic chemicals on earth. Safety matters, big time.

Yet sometimes all the talk falls flat. Sometimes it feels rote, like our leaders talk about safety because they are supposed to, not because they really care whether everyone goes home in the same condition they came to work in. Why is that? How can something so important end up sounding insincere?

I think it is because we all get cynical. All the talk about safety can quickly become a matter of statistics, lost time, and bad press. If that is all my leadership seems to care about, then I am not going to believe they really care about my personal safety...only their own stats. It is only when I believe they care about me as a person will I believe that they care about my health as more than a means of production. Only then will I buy into the safety programs and whatnot.

This is a key lesson for all leadership, it seems. If you want people to care about what you care about, care about them first. When they believe that you have their best interests in mind, or at the very least are aware of their interests, they are willing to listen and perhaps get on board with your leadership. If they think you are not interested in them, it is unlikely they will be interested in you.

Don't trust the nice

I recently had a revelation about the reorganization and downsizing at work. There are two broad categories of people now working...those that will continue to work, and those that will be laid off. The revelation was that for most of the people in both groups, today is about the same.

They come to work, they do what they are asked to do, they eat lunch, they gossip and worry and try to predict the future. Those that will no longer be working do not (for the most part) have "Short-Timer" on their badge or a day-to-day lease on their office. We are all just doing our jobs as best we can.

Yet behind the scenes, there is more going on. The managers and decision makers have opinions and thoughts. Whether they can articulate it or not, they already know if they really want to keep you (and me) or not. At the same time, they may not know what they think until the question is asked, and even if they do, it is unlikely that they will share it with us.

The conclusion? You cannot trust the nice. Nice is what everyone will be until they hire or fire you. Taking confidence from someone's outward demeanor is completely unfounded. Rarely is anyone truly evil, but rarely will they be open and honest with themselves or with you from the beginning.

So what to do? First, stop being mediocre. The excellent ones get genuine praise, not ambivalent niceties. Second, base your thoughts, emotions, and actions on your reality, not others'. This goes for positive and negative stuff from others. In the end you get to live with you, I get to live with me, and others live with themselves. No one gets to trade places.

People vs. Titles

In the midst of the giant reorganization at work, I have been thinking about the difference between people and titles. Specifically, the fact that in large organizations, titles are expected to do work. That is, I (David) am not asked to do something, I (Process Engineer) am asked to do something.

Who cares? I do. I am expected to do things because I hold the title of "Process Engineer", not because I want to do them, or am even able to do them. As a result, we have a bloated system of competency tracking and development that defines what the person holding the title should be able to actually do. After all, it is the person who does the actual work, not their title.

Unfortunately, this puts everyone in a bind. A large organization needs defined roles with titles to prevent chaos, but rarely does a job description fit an individual's strengths and desires perfectly. So we are forced to fit square pegs in round holes, or at best elliptical pegs in round holes.

The take-home message? Beware titles. Remember that when you ask for work, an individual will do it, not a title. When you are doing work, remember that others are usually just looking at your title, not you as an individual (unless they're reading this blog). Overall, keep in mind that you work with people, not titles