Shiny uniforms. Full-body contact with the risk of serious concussions. A pigskin ball flying like a bullet into a tiny, moving target. Touchdown! Yes, we're talking football. And... wait, we're also talking higher ed?
I've been marveling at Greg Bedard's account of the New England Patriots' stellar no-huddle offense against the Denver Broncos on October 7. Sure, the execution was awesome. But what struck me more about the no-huddle strategy was a lesson to be applied to higher education, the industry first and foremost on my mind. If you put aside the content (sports vs. education) and focus on the form (teamwork and competition), the Patriots have a lot more to teach than simply how to run 89 offensive plays in 60 minutes.
Bedard writes, "Just one word can be powerful." One shared word makes efficient communication. Communication is integral to coordination. Coordination maximizes organizational productivity. Productivity begets business results. Now, rinse and repeat.
Often times I catch myself using GMAT vocabulary to convey simple ideas that end up in a mental wastebasket. In football, the quarterback could replace "Flip right, double-X jet, 36 counter, naked waggle, X-7, X-quarter" with "Bama left" to signal the same play. At work, instead of "please gather the members of the steering committee for a brief meeting to efficiently discuss the latest responses from the second-choice vendor", I could say "please convene the steering committee to review __'s responses". Wow, I bet I can cut most of my emails in half!
Furthermore, businesses all talk about being nimble, agile, responsive, resilient. But how do we actually achieve that speed? Keeping things simple certainly helps. To explain how Chip Kelly sped up his Oregon Ducks, Bedard quotes Ed Dickson, "[Kelly] wants to make it easier to where you’re not thinking about anything, you’re just going fast. Make it as simple as guys can learn it so you can go really fast. That’s the key, making it simple for your players so they can play at top speed." Translated to business: Streamline processes, remove barriers and keep people focused on what's important.
So, instead of fancy quotes or clever memes, maybe one word can be used to guide my work and that of others. In my current environment, I'd say good candidates for that one word are "learn" and "teach".
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
Delegating for success, not setting up for failure
Harvey Mackay said it well, "For the sake of your company (and your sanity), at some point, you're going to need to let go." As a rational manager, I agree with Harvey wholeheartedly. As a leader, I worry about Harvey's instruction to "focus on teaching skills." The reason is that ultimately I want to delegate for success, not to set everyone up for failure.
On the surface, "letting your employees stretch their skills and judgment" sounds great. Just reading it twice gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside! But the school of hard knocks isn't so kind. I learned of some critical questions to ask, when faced with the choice to delegate a task to an employee who has never encountered the challenge.
Does the employee need training?
If you ask a systems analyst who is well versed in JavaScript to create a new, custom alert for a webpage, most likely the analyst will figure it out autonomously without needing additional guidance. But if you ask the same systems analyst to launch a new marketing campaign for baby formula sold to first-time mothers in Oklahoma City, some training is probably warranted (along with a job re-classification in this case).
There are many factors that go into deciding whether to train the employee: how adaptive (s)he is, how receptive (s)he is to change, how difficult the new task is, amount of widely available documentation, support network, etc. In the end, deciding whether or not to train an employee is a judgement call based on decidedly imperfect information.
A C# analyst asked to write simple code in Java may flounder, and on the flip side a marketing guru may turn out to be an excellent R&D engineer! In the ideal world, I believe we can groom individual contributors who are capable of searching and learning for themselves with minimal supervision.
If training is needed, how should it be delivered?
Okay, so we end up deciding that training is necessary. How do we actually deliver the training? The options are endless: shadowing, reading, simulation, in-house training modules, external training modules... Obviously, some are more expensive, while others are much more limited in its use and appeal.
How much on-the-job training is justified?
And most importantly, the question of "how much training" must be addressed. I would love to literally be a lifelong learner and never leave the student role, but then I would never become a contributing member of society. The same is true of workers int he workplace. If one spends all of his or her time in training, when is the contributor actually contributing or producing something of value to the organization?
For a full-time employee working 40 hrs/wk with 13 holidays and 24 vacation days per year, 5% of that person's time only comes out to ~1.6 hours per week. How much can you learn in that period of time? And who in their time-strapped days has the time to create such training?
Closing thoughts
I've succeeded in applying the philosopher's strategy to question deflection: Answer a question with more questions that are even more complex than the original. But seriously, the art of delegation is a skill that needs to be honed, and for me part that I really need to learn is when and how to train and develop my staff.
Do you think about all this and/or more when deciding to delegate work?
On the surface, "letting your employees stretch their skills and judgment" sounds great. Just reading it twice gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside! But the school of hard knocks isn't so kind. I learned of some critical questions to ask, when faced with the choice to delegate a task to an employee who has never encountered the challenge.
Does the employee need training?
If you ask a systems analyst who is well versed in JavaScript to create a new, custom alert for a webpage, most likely the analyst will figure it out autonomously without needing additional guidance. But if you ask the same systems analyst to launch a new marketing campaign for baby formula sold to first-time mothers in Oklahoma City, some training is probably warranted (along with a job re-classification in this case).
There are many factors that go into deciding whether to train the employee: how adaptive (s)he is, how receptive (s)he is to change, how difficult the new task is, amount of widely available documentation, support network, etc. In the end, deciding whether or not to train an employee is a judgement call based on decidedly imperfect information.
A C# analyst asked to write simple code in Java may flounder, and on the flip side a marketing guru may turn out to be an excellent R&D engineer! In the ideal world, I believe we can groom individual contributors who are capable of searching and learning for themselves with minimal supervision.
If training is needed, how should it be delivered?
Okay, so we end up deciding that training is necessary. How do we actually deliver the training? The options are endless: shadowing, reading, simulation, in-house training modules, external training modules... Obviously, some are more expensive, while others are much more limited in its use and appeal.
How much on-the-job training is justified?
And most importantly, the question of "how much training" must be addressed. I would love to literally be a lifelong learner and never leave the student role, but then I would never become a contributing member of society. The same is true of workers int he workplace. If one spends all of his or her time in training, when is the contributor actually contributing or producing something of value to the organization?
For a full-time employee working 40 hrs/wk with 13 holidays and 24 vacation days per year, 5% of that person's time only comes out to ~1.6 hours per week. How much can you learn in that period of time? And who in their time-strapped days has the time to create such training?
Closing thoughts
I've succeeded in applying the philosopher's strategy to question deflection: Answer a question with more questions that are even more complex than the original. But seriously, the art of delegation is a skill that needs to be honed, and for me part that I really need to learn is when and how to train and develop my staff.
Do you think about all this and/or more when deciding to delegate work?
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Align email rules with Chatter to maximize ROI
At work, I face many regular communication challenges: some daunting, others frustrating, and still more that are just annoying. In broad categories, some general pain points are:
If you look at Salesforce's pitch for "Why Chatter?" you will see answers and solutions to many of these questions and problems. And Chatter's promise of higher productivity is clearly communicated, with fewer meetings and email reduction presented as the first two benefits. These are the promised ROI's from using Chatter.
But after reading about topics such as, "Is Email Dead?" and the ambitious Zero Email plan from visionary CEO Thierry Breton, I am beginning to believe that I can do more to lead the way toward email reduction and, if I dare to dream like Thierry Breton, internal email elimination. If Chatter can take the place of internal email, then I believe we will be close to maximizing ROI from institutional adoption of this new communication tool.
To that end, I suddenly realized a way to align my own technology with the adoption of Chatter and elimination of email: Create an email rule that will "hide" all non-Chatter emails by moving them into somewhere, anywhere, that's not my inbox. As a result, the "move non-Chatter to email folder" rule was created.
The idea is simple. In the short term, I anticipate that internal emails will be reduced and that Chatter will become the preferred method of internal communications. So, raising visibility of Chatter activity and lowering visibility of non-Chatter are natural ways of not only preparing for the future but also accelerating our transition toward it. If I always see Chatter first when I open Outlook, then I would be subconsciously cued and trained to use Chatter as my primary communication tool, right?
Some of my colleagues have already formed an ambitious group to tackle the challenge of defining communication protocols for Chatter. Should the "move non-Chatter" rule be included as part of the protocol for handling Chatter? I think it's time to convene the jury.
What do you think? Will this rule help an organization achieve the promised ROI from adopting a social communication platform?
- "Who has knowledge about __?"
- "Who can answer this question, __?"
- "How do I communicate this news: __?"
- "How can I tap into the collective intelligence of the organization for __?"
- "How do I work remotely with __ to accomplish __?"
- "Why am I answering the same question a second (or third, or fourth, ...) time?"
If you look at Salesforce's pitch for "Why Chatter?" you will see answers and solutions to many of these questions and problems. And Chatter's promise of higher productivity is clearly communicated, with fewer meetings and email reduction presented as the first two benefits. These are the promised ROI's from using Chatter.
But after reading about topics such as, "Is Email Dead?" and the ambitious Zero Email plan from visionary CEO Thierry Breton, I am beginning to believe that I can do more to lead the way toward email reduction and, if I dare to dream like Thierry Breton, internal email elimination. If Chatter can take the place of internal email, then I believe we will be close to maximizing ROI from institutional adoption of this new communication tool.
To that end, I suddenly realized a way to align my own technology with the adoption of Chatter and elimination of email: Create an email rule that will "hide" all non-Chatter emails by moving them into somewhere, anywhere, that's not my inbox. As a result, the "move non-Chatter to email folder" rule was created.
The idea is simple. In the short term, I anticipate that internal emails will be reduced and that Chatter will become the preferred method of internal communications. So, raising visibility of Chatter activity and lowering visibility of non-Chatter are natural ways of not only preparing for the future but also accelerating our transition toward it. If I always see Chatter first when I open Outlook, then I would be subconsciously cued and trained to use Chatter as my primary communication tool, right?
Some of my colleagues have already formed an ambitious group to tackle the challenge of defining communication protocols for Chatter. Should the "move non-Chatter" rule be included as part of the protocol for handling Chatter? I think it's time to convene the jury.
What do you think? Will this rule help an organization achieve the promised ROI from adopting a social communication platform?
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Custom setting values in Salesforce email templates
Yesterday, as I was playing with a simple CRM idea in Salesforce, I came across an unexpected roadblock: There didn't seem to be a way to merge custom setting values into an email template. A search on Google seemed to confirm this suspicion, as another admin asked the same question and arrived at the conclusion, "No, it's not possible." But, trusting Salesforce's immense power and flexibility, and hoping at all costs to avoid Apex code, I pursued my gut feeling that there must be a way.
And without disappointment, I discovered through some quick experiments that Salesforce does indeed make it possible to merge custom setting values into email templates.
The idea is simple: Put the custom setting value into a formula field on the desired object, and then merge the formula field value into the email template.
Below is an example of how it could work for you. Let's say that you want there to be a default level of optimism associated with every contact in your org. Imagine that you intend to merge this optimism into your automated emails. How would you do it?
At this point, you should be able to inject the custom setting value for Default Forecast into any email template simply by including the {!Contact.Optimism_Forecast__c} merge field.
Note: If you do complete this exercise, I highly recommend keeping the Default Forecast at "blue skies and sunshine" in your org.
And without disappointment, I discovered through some quick experiments that Salesforce does indeed make it possible to merge custom setting values into email templates.
The idea is simple: Put the custom setting value into a formula field on the desired object, and then merge the formula field value into the email template.
Below is an example of how it could work for you. Let's say that you want there to be a default level of optimism associated with every contact in your org. Imagine that you intend to merge this optimism into your automated emails. How would you do it?
- Create a new custom setting labeled "Optimism Setting" with Setting Type set to "Hierarchy". The object name (a.k.a. API name) should be set to Optimism_Setting.
- Within Optimism Setting, create a new text field labeled "Default Forecast". The field name (a.k.a. API name) should default to Default_Forecast.
- Looking at the Optimism Setting page, click Manage and then set the default organizational level value for Default Forecast to "blue skies and sunshine".
- On the Contact object, create a new formula field labeled "Optimism Forecast". The field name should default to Optimism_Forecast.
- Insert the custom setting value for Default Forecast into this field. Your formula should look like this: $Setup.Optimism_Setting__c.Default_Forecast__c
- Save the field, and now you're ready for email merge!
At this point, you should be able to inject the custom setting value for Default Forecast into any email template simply by including the {!Contact.Optimism_Forecast__c} merge field.
Note: If you do complete this exercise, I highly recommend keeping the Default Forecast at "blue skies and sunshine" in your org.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
It's never too late to change or to affect change
As my first 90 days in this new leadership position draws to a close, I find myself sitting blankly in front of my luxurious company laptop, dissatisfied and disappointed with myself. 90 days or __ hours later since I started, what do I have to show for myself? Too little, by my own judgement.
Sure, I've kicked off a few projects with high visibility: launching a new portal for students and faculty, and migrating to Salesforce from Intelliworks. And I'm working with fortuitous support from great colleagues to roll out a transformational communication tool, Chatter. Also, I'm setting performance goals with my direct reports that I plan to reinforce in order to focus our efforts.
But I can't shake the feeling that I'm starting to run faster and faster on a shaky foundation that I have less and less time to solidify. With one staff member gone just before I arrived, and with another one on his way out right now, have I really established the right rapport with the right people to continue advancing the organization's mission? Am I really running the department? Or am I just riding my staff's previous momentum?
At this critical milestone, 90 days since day 1, I find myself in an uncomfortable position of my own creation. Fortunately, I believe that if I have the power to dig a hole for myself, I also have the power to elevate myself to better heights.
In short, it's never too late to stop, hit the reset button, and put yourself back on the right path.
In managerial accounting, there's a concept that's supposed to help us move forward without the baggage of the past. If you guessed "sunk costs" for the concept, then you're on the same wavelength as me. I look at my previous work, good and bad, as sunk costs. The experience and knowledge should be treated as objective data for consideration in future decisions. What was good can be sustained. What was bad can be stopped. And what I should have done but didn't do can be started. As long as I remember that the past does not determine the future, I wield ultimate control of my performance and contribution to the organization.
So, I am mentally hitting the reset button, picking up a copy of Michael Watkins' The First 90 Days and taking charge of the next 90 days. In the words of a favorite song on my playlist: "... we'll turn it all around 'cause it's not too late. It's never too late."
Sure, I've kicked off a few projects with high visibility: launching a new portal for students and faculty, and migrating to Salesforce from Intelliworks. And I'm working with fortuitous support from great colleagues to roll out a transformational communication tool, Chatter. Also, I'm setting performance goals with my direct reports that I plan to reinforce in order to focus our efforts.
But I can't shake the feeling that I'm starting to run faster and faster on a shaky foundation that I have less and less time to solidify. With one staff member gone just before I arrived, and with another one on his way out right now, have I really established the right rapport with the right people to continue advancing the organization's mission? Am I really running the department? Or am I just riding my staff's previous momentum?
At this critical milestone, 90 days since day 1, I find myself in an uncomfortable position of my own creation. Fortunately, I believe that if I have the power to dig a hole for myself, I also have the power to elevate myself to better heights.
In short, it's never too late to stop, hit the reset button, and put yourself back on the right path.
In managerial accounting, there's a concept that's supposed to help us move forward without the baggage of the past. If you guessed "sunk costs" for the concept, then you're on the same wavelength as me. I look at my previous work, good and bad, as sunk costs. The experience and knowledge should be treated as objective data for consideration in future decisions. What was good can be sustained. What was bad can be stopped. And what I should have done but didn't do can be started. As long as I remember that the past does not determine the future, I wield ultimate control of my performance and contribution to the organization.
So, I am mentally hitting the reset button, picking up a copy of Michael Watkins' The First 90 Days and taking charge of the next 90 days. In the words of a favorite song on my playlist: "... we'll turn it all around 'cause it's not too late. It's never too late."
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