The Long View
My parents are visiting this week. And as is his usual habit, my father showed up with newspaper clippings for me. Articles cut from the actual newspaper!
Often, the actual articles aren’t news to me, because like the news junkie I am, I’ve already seen the stories and their day-by-day or minute-by-minute updates that make their way to my inbox or notifications screen.
Still, I appreciate the gesture because I understand the significance of it. He has a process: get the paper, sit in his recliner, read the paper, find something of interest, and set it aside for sharing.
It’s been this way for years (since before smartphones), and even if the news is old, I appreciate it because I know it’s a connection between us. He knows what I’m interested in and I know what interests him, and this is a simple way to show that he cares about me.
I don’t think he expects any of these bits of paper will find their way into a scrapbook (at least I hope he doesn’t). But I’ll always remember how he shows up with his envelope or manila folder filled with the fruits of his labor.
In the most recent cache, one article made me think about how different leaders approach the short term versus the long term, and what that means to the people whose lives they touch.
A Long Fall
Boeing has been in the news in recent months, for all the wrong reasons. The company has faced multiple safety issues on a number of its jets, which has brought its management and manufacturing processes into question.
In “Boeing’s long fall and how it might recover,” Dominic Gates lays out the changes in management, first under CEO Harry Stonecipher, whose tenure was only two years before he was forced to resign (ethical issues) and then under Jim McNerney.
cold, imperial CEOs
Both were “executive leaders who had worked under and sought to imitate Welch as cold, imperial CEOs.” Their focus? Short-term profit-boosting that took the form of sold-off divisions, outsourcing, cross-country relocation of core operations, cost-cutting, confronting workers and suppliers, and accounting tricks to boost the stock price.
The incentives were misaligned.
For example, factory managers were rewarded on meeting cost and schedule targets, which meant that stopping the assembly line for any kind of issue could jeopardize their bonuses. Suppliers were forced to cut their own profits for the sake of Boeing’s profitability, but lost millions on parts they built.
The results were predictable.
Severe quality and safety issues, angry and alienated employees, but happy shareholders, who saw $68 billion in stock buybacks since 2010.
These short-sighted moves may have satisfied Wall Street each quarter and managers every year, but over the long term, these fundamental missteps had consequences.
Other than quality and safety, another thing that deteriorated was the culture there.
Corporate Collaboration
One of the noted engineering leaders was Alan Mulally, who was CEO of the Commercial Airplanes division. According to Bryce Hoffman in American Icon: Alan Mulally and the Fight to Save Ford Motor Company, at Boeing Alan managed “to transform its divisive culture into a model of corporate collaboration.”
It seems that Alan’s approach wasn’t appreciated by the hard-charging Welch acolytes at Boeing, and he subsequently took his talents to Ford, which is where I got to know him.
I’ve written and spoken about Alan’s leadership skills and style many times, and how much he helped me learn about leadership (I’m still learning!), so I won’t repeat myself here. But what I will share is the difference in his approach that made a difference.
The collaboration that Alan led at Ford was part of his Working Together® management system, with a whole process that accompanies the philosophy. Backing it all up was One Ford: One Team, One Plan, One Goal.
The goal was simple: “An exciting and viable Ford delivering profitable growth for all.”
You might think that the focus on profit wasn’t too different from Boeing. One difference was that it was profitable growth for all. Working Together meant everyone shared in the rewards since everyone contributed to the efforts.
Another difference was the plan. The One Ford Plan pointed everyone in the same direction, aligning interests, operations, and results:
Aggressively restructure to operate profitably at the current demand and changing model mix
Accelerate development of new products our customers want and value
Finance our plan and improve our balance sheet
Work together effectively as one team
Through it all, there was Alan, in conference rooms, on the front line, visiting with dealers, suppliers, customers, employees, and all stakeholders to show his commitment to the plan.
Discipline = Success
Having a plan is half the battle; the other half is communicating the plan. Consistent vision, execution, and communication made all the difference.
Without the cadence of meetings, without the relentless commitment to a better plan, and without the discipline of the process, success would not have been possible.
In those many updates about the progress, Alan was honest and transparent, noting that it would take time and that we would need to make adjustments to the plan based on changing dynamics in the industry, market, and world.
There were no shortcuts, but there were successes along the way — successes that we noted and celebrated — because part of the culture was to enjoy the journey and each other, even though the journey was long.
At the end of Alan’s tenure at Boeing and at Ford, he left a legacy: the wildly successful 777 launch, the rescuing of an American icon, and thousands of people whose lives he touched as an admirable and caring leader.
For my dad, the joy and the legacy isn’t the process of reading, clipping, and sharing newspaper articles; it’s the connection he makes with me.
And that’s something for the scrapbook.
There’s so much to learn,