How to Lose Weight and Change the World

"Happy New Year!" Between saying it and hearing it said, the phrase must've popped into my life over a hundred times in the past 24 hours. Yes, it's a new year. But while I sincerely wish my family, friends and colleagues the best possible start to the next 365 days, at the same time a question starts forming in the back of my mind: What will it take for me to have a "happy" 2013?

Perhaps the answer starts with identifying what left me less than happy in 2012. A pretty simple task, considering 2012 was by and large a very positive year. So, what left me wishing for different outcomes?

Off the top of my head, I think of two tangentially related challenges: Mastering all the responsibilities in a new job position, and weight management. Without going into all of the details, the gist of the matters are that I still have personal skill gaps to bridge in my new position, and I now have many more pounds of excess flesh to shed in order to return to a healthy weight.

Without anything obvious between them, I'd like to offer two connections shared by the two items above: First, both are roadblocks in my personal mission to build a more harmonious world. Second, and perhaps more significantly, both challenges are rooted in habits that could use revisions.

I look at the challenges I face at work and the weigh control challenge I face at home, and it seems to me that one thing is clear: If I want to tackle and overcome more complex problems at work and in the world where I don't have direct control, I should start by proving that I can completely own a process over which I should have full control: maintaining a healthy weight.

In contemplating the weight problem (and by extension the larger problems), I think back to one of the books I added to my favorites list in 2012 was The Philosopher's Diet by Richard Watson. Watson offers a simple idea: Losing weight and keeping it off is one of the most difficult projects a human being can undertake. And if one can achieve consistent weight control, one can achieve anything. So, if I want to succeed at work, one way I can seal that deal is to succeed at reaching my target weight and staying there.

Another book I'm reading, The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg, suggests that habits can be generalized into having three components: a cue, a routine and a reward. In this sense, I know there are at least a few habits that are hurting me continuously. Thankfully, Duhigg seems to be empowering me by asserting that everyone has the power to change components of those habits to produce completely different results, ones that are desirable and exceptional. Duhigg believes in the power of self, and that's a comforting reminder to people who feel that much of their lives are outside of their direct influence.

And finally, hearing Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror" on the radio gave me added conviction to tackle everything systematically in the new year, following this chain of thought: improve my physical self, then raise my work performance, then advance my larger mission. Each success lays the foundation for the next success. "I'm starting with the man in the mirror. I'm asking him to change his ways. ... If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and then make a change."

So, at the moment I find myself and everyone else in a new year filled with many new challenges to come. And with the new challenges I believe there are at least as many new opportunities to match. Then, to welcome the new year, I'd like to make a toast to stronger economies and communities in 2013, starting with a focus on improving what we ought to hold in complete control: ourselves, and specifically our weights. Cheers!

Five-star education and the end of college rankings

How many colleges out there wish they had the #1 spot on U.S. News' Best Colleges rankings? Or at least a higher spot within their respective tier or category? I don't have a scientific answer to this question, but I suspect that the answer is "a vast majority". Ultimately, for me, the more critical question is: Why do those in higher education look to these rankings as a validation for the work that they do? Or as support for their marketing narratives?

At a quick glance (I'm trusting you on this one, Wikipedia), U.S. News published its first rankings in a 1983 report titled, "America's Best Colleges". Back then, people were still living in the age of the printing press where information was disseminated through official bodies without a broad social medium for validation. The public Internet was still under development, and Web 2.0 wasn't even on anyone's roadmap, much less Facebook, Twitter or Yelp. So the best that consumers could manage was to put their faith into a reputable organization that could help them sift through the myriad choices for higher education in order to find the best fit given various constraints.

But does what seemed like a great tool nearly 30 years ago still hold significant meaning in the Social Age? Maybe. Maybe not. But if the Best Colleges rankings are used as a way to establish an institution's reputation, I believe there is a better way in today's world: the five-star rating system.

I'm sure you've seen this. For years, whether it's on Yelp, Redbox, Amazon.com, the five-star rating system has helped people with needs and means to make purchasing decisions. means "Excellent, I highly recommend this!" means "Terrible! Don't touch it with a 100-foot pole." Have those reviews and stars influenced your purchasing decisions, at work or at home? They certainly have for me.

But how can such a simple scale measure such a complex service like education? Well... why not? The idea itself is not novel. Net Promoter Score (NPS) has been around the block and back, employed now by many industries including higher education. NPS uses a scale from 0 to 10. The star rating system uses a range from 1 to 5. So, the net difference is effectively just the number of notches on the line, which is why I think of the star rating system as "NPS lite".

But the real reason why a star rating system like that embedded in many social media outlets is important to higher education is that the scale helps an institution measure the perceived value from all of its constituents. And those constituents are going to be the most effective promoters or detractors of the organization. Yes, there are numerous, intricately linked and complex factors that influence any given rating. And yes, NPS and the star rating system omit other metrics that can help pin-point specific problem areas. But all of the good and the bad, both in and out of the classroom must roll up into something in the minds of students, parents and everyone else. And I believe the what is captured neatly in the number of stars every individual has the power to give to an organization.

Simply translated for higher education:

• , "I had a great experience! If you're looking for a graduate program, I highly recommend this college!"
• , "What the hell? What do you mean I spent 4 years and $100k just to end up with no job and a ticking clock on my student loans? Don't come here if you're serious about your education needs."

The five-star rating system. Simple. Measurable. Scalable. Inevitable.

In the future, I imagine people will stop caring about a "top 100" list published by a major corporation. Instead, they will head over to their favorite social media site and look for 5-star colleges as rated by parents, students, alumni, staff, partners and beyond.

And when the time comes, that will be the end of today's college rankings.

idea, noun: a proposed solution to an identified problem

What is an idea in the context of selecting projects to execute within a business? The closest definition given by Merriam-Webster is "a plan for action". But perhaps a better applied definition for leaders in an organization is "a proposed solution to an identified problem" where the problem identification comes first.

At a Technology staff retreat I held this past Tuesday, subtly charged conversation in the room revolved around the sequencing and meanings of a few simple words: problem, solution and idea. The backdrop to the conversation was a topic from project portfolio management: how a proposed initiative becomes part of a portfolio. Ultimately, the goal of portfolio management is to ensure that the organization is "doing the right work."

I had originally started the dialogue by stating the first step in the process is that an idea is conceived. A colleague then added that a problem should also be identified. This sounded reasonable. So, I agreed and proceeded to add this step below the idea conceived step on the flip chart. I was feeling good about how this addition tightened the gap between the first step and the goal step of project selected for execution. Off to a good start, I thought.

"The order is wrong. You can't conceive an idea or solution before identifying a problem." This comment gave me pause, as I looked at the large sheet of paper on which I left too little room at the top to switch the order of the first two steps.

"Is the order of those steps really significant," I began in an impatient reply, "if the person performing each one is the same?" In my mind, I was thinking about how we don't want barely baked ideas to bounce around the office, eating up staff's valuable work time. What's the big deal about the order, I thought, if the same person considers both the problem and the solution before sharing the idea with someone else? Isn't the result the same?  After a few more stubborn (on my part) exchanges back and forth with no changes in opinion or on the chart, my colleague gave a final comment, "I feel extremely concerned about the order being wrong, and this is the last time I'm going to raise this concern."

Worried about the negative direction the conversation was taking, I abandoned the page on which I was drawing and redrew the chart, starting with problem identified at the top then leading to idea conceived (with a solution). I verbally acknowledged that the new sequence would be better than the previous one, and I got a brief nod from the concerned colleague as a result. But mostly, I was just relieved to be moving on to talking about the criteria for weighing and comparing different ideas.

Reflecting on this experience a few days later, it clicked for me why my colleague was so concerned about the order of first identifying a problem and then devising a solution. The way I first drew the chart showed a shallow focus on what was "cool", "novel" or "trendy" about a product or service, whereas the rearranged chart demonstrated a clear focus on understanding and considering real business needs which need to be addressed.

What should leaders be concerned about? Should we put our attention on what's shiny and new that everyone else is pursuing and trying to find a way to apply them to our business? Or should we focus on learning our business needs first and then look for a solution, shiny or not? The answer I think is obvious, and I personally learned a valuable lesson about what lens to wear when surveying the work environment.

It's funny how blind we are to our own hypocrisy sometimes. When I first heard about "manufactured demand" in industries like big pharma, where products are created without an identified need, I wagged my finger and condemned the practice. It seems that I have fallen into the same rut as those I've criticized, and it's time to start pulling myself out and into better company.

A Football Lesson for Higher Ed

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".

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?