It's Not Luck (20 page)

“That’s exactly what happened. But Kim begged for it, I didn’t have the heart to say no.”

My poor baby. Three hits, from three different directions, all perfectly aimed at her most important thing—maintaining good friendships. And she didn’t know how to handle even one, not to mention all three. No wonder she crawled into her cocoon.

Too frequently Sharon goes into her withdrawals. And we suspected that something was wrong with the kid. Maintaining good friendships is not an easy objective. It’s very easy to get hurt. But it’s certainly worthwhile.

Where were we? Why haven’t we given her a hand? It’s not so difficult to help. We certainly have more experience handling these types of problems. At least we have enough scars to prove how not to deal with them.

Will Sharon agree? Is she going to trust us with such a sensitive issue for her?

“Daddy?” Sharon sounds embarrassed. “You said something about not having anything that we like to talk about.”

“Yes, Sharon.”

“It’s not true. I like to talk to you. You understand so much.”

“Remember it next time you ask me for something and I say ‘no.’ ”

That night, when Julie and I are sitting in comfortable, loving, silence, I return to Sharon’s clouds.

When she started with her complaints I didn’t see any connection between them. I don’t think Sharon did either. Nevertheless, the objective of each cloud came out to be the same. Friendship is what’s important to Sharon. That by itself is not a big surprise, we knew it long ago. But . . .

What would be the results of doing a similar analysis for myself? Suppose I pick three different, small but bothersome UDEs of my own? What will happen if for each I write the corresponding cloud? Will the objective come out the same for each? Even if I choose the UDEs from different aspects of my life?

Is personality much more focused than we give it credit?

“Julie?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Let’s check something. . . .”

18

“It’s impossible to work with Hilton, I’m telling you.” Bill Peach is deeply irritated.

“I must say that it took you quite a while to reach this startling conclusion,” I tease him.

We are sitting in a restaurant having our monthly lunch. It’s a tradition that started when Bill nominated me to be his replacement as a divisional manager. I enjoy these lunches. For a long time they had been my main channel for hearing all the juicy gossip from the high windows. Bill likes it because he’s always known that I’m totally loyal to him. Today, I’m part of that close circle, which makes our lunch meetings even more fun.

“Come on, tell me, what happened this time?” I’m all ears.

“That bloody rattlesnake. That no good doublecrosser. You won’t believe what he’s done.” Bill still has to release more steam.

“As long as we are discussing Hilton, I’m afraid that I won’t have any difficulty believing anything.”

“You know that Granby has to submit an investment plan to the board?”

“Yes, I know.” I’m not smiling any longer. I also know where the money for those investments is coming from. It’s my companies’ blood that they are fighting over.

Bill is too busy being angry at Hilton to notice me. “So, naturally, Granby turned to Hilton and me to prepare a plan. We decided to be gentlemen about it. Hilton a gentleman, what a joke. I should have known that it would never work. Anyhow, rather than fighting about the money, we decided that each of us would submit a plan for exactly half the sum.”

“And then you find out,” I’ve been with both of them long enough to guess, “that you have submitted a plan for half and Hilton submitted for all of it.”

“Who told you about it? No. It’s so obvious, huh? But you should have been there, when he persuaded me that this time it would be okay. How he proved that it is the only way that makes sense for both of us. And I, the fool, fell for it.”

“You deserve it,” I say.

“Right. Everyone who believes m anything Hilton promises deserves it.”

Vultures deserve whatever is coming to them, I think to myself. We are going to sell my companies and they are already fighting over the blood. Damn Hilton, that’s for sure, but also damn you, Bill.

We eat our club sandwiches in silence.

I’m not fair. What the hell do I want from Bill? That he will not fight for investment for his group? If he was the one that initiated the sale of my companies then it would be another story. But he wasn’t. He was not involved at all.”

You know, Bill, Bob and Stacey are taking it very hard. They don’t like the idea of being sold, one bit. And neither do I.”

“It’s understandable. No one wants to be in your shoes. But that’s life. The periphery is always sacrificed to protect the core.”

“I guess so. By the way, when the time comes, I’m relying on you to find a proper place for Don. Will you?”

“Any time.”

“I’d like him to have a line position. He is ready.”

“I can always use a person like Don. But why do we have to talk about hypothetical situations? Listen, do you know what that creep Hilton suggested? That we invest twenty-two million to buy that worthless company in Idaho.”

“Why?” I’m surprised. “We already checked it out. Their patents are dubious, the real brains left them years ago. Besides, why so much?”

“Hilton had to inflate his plan to show that he needed all the one hundred and thirty million. You see, he didn’t want to use any of the suggestions that Trumann said were no good, so he threw in everything else he could think of. The only criteria was that it look good. And you must admit, on paper that company looks quite good.”

“It’s all a big show,” I sigh. “Granby wants to look better and be able to blame Trumann and Doughty for selling too low, so he pretends that my companies can be sold for much more money than is realistic. Hilton wants to be more powerful, so he pretends that he needs all the money for his group even though he needs it like a hole in his head. It would be funny if it weren’t my people and I who have to pay for it all.”

Bill doesn’t agree. “You are right about Hilton but not about Granby. The old man is as straight as an arrow.”

“That’s what I thought until now,” I admit. “But how else can you explain using such a gross overestimation for my companies?”

“What are you talking about?” Bill is honestly surprised. “One hundred and thirty million is a very conservative estimate.”

“Bill, I don’t have much experience buying and selling companies, but I was not born yesterday, and I do know how to read financial statements. For each of my companies we’ll be lucky to get thirty million. To say that we’ll get one hundred and thirty for the lot is simply ridiculous.”

Bill looks at me. “Want coffee?” he asks.

“Forget the coffee. Tell me what is going on.”

Bill is busy trying to catch our waiter’s eye. I’m starting to get irritated. Then, without looking at me, he asks, “What do you think Pressure-Steam is worth?”

“Maximum thirty million, not even that. Look Bill, their market is stable and in stalemate. Stacey succeeded in bringing her company to a quarter of a million profit. Maybe, with a lot of effort, it is possible to bring this company up to making two or three million profit a year, but that is the maximum.”

“Alex, what is the value to anyone of the competitors if they can close the division and take its clients?”

I feel like someone clobbered me on the head. Hard.

So that is the plan. Of course. How naive could I be? A competitor that does it will gain our market share. They all have excess capacity. Material is only thirty-five percent of the selling price. A competitor that takes over and dismantles my company can increase his profit by maybe even forty million a year. Not to mention that it would break the stalemate, they would become the largest and most dominant in this market. How stupid could I be?

Now I understand the conversation with that disgusting wheeler-dealer. Now it all makes perfect sense, including the price. No wonder I smelled something bad. I smelled the body of my company being torn to pieces.

And Trumann and Doughty, those butchers. They were careful not to tell me a thing. They look on both sides of the equation, oh yes. And I know what they’ll tell me when confronted, “We must sacrifice a part to save the whole.” My foot.

“Are you all right?” Bill actually sounds concerned.

“No, I’m not,” I almost shout at him.

“Yes, you are,” he smiles at me. “I can almost hear the sounds of the trumpets. Dragons, run for your life. Saint GeoRogo is going to war.”

“You bet your ass I am.”

I get into my car and start the engine. Where to? It doesn’t matter. Just to drive, I need to think.

For miles, I’m fuming. At Trumann, at Doughty, at Granby, at Hilton, at Wall Street, at the world. Even, a little, at myself.

After a long time I call myself to order. Being mad is not enough. What am I going to do? Fight for a nice pricey severance for the employees? What a lousy solution. Besides, how much can I persuade UniCo to pay? One month’s salary per year of employment? Two? Maybe three? No way will they agree to even two months per year. And that’s nothing. Yes nothing, to a person who cannot use his expertise anywhere else.

And Stacey? What chance will she have? With a track record of heading a company that was sold to the cleaners? That black mark will devastate her for life.

And me? I’m also going to carry the same mark of Cain on my forehead.

No way. No way am I going to allow any of it to happen. But how can I stop it?

The cloud is clear. I’ve known it for a long time. It is also clear how to break it, we must find a way to increase sales. Significantly and rapidly. The problem is that until now I didn’t believe that it was really possible. Now I don’t have any choice. I must assume that it is possible. I must take it for granted. That’s the only way I can gather the stamina to go and look for it.

A knight who doesn’t believe in the Holy Grail will never find it. And one who does? Try and stop him.

There must be a way. There must be a way to increase sales. Actually I have proof, Pete’s company. There we succeeded. With no advantage in technology. With no budget to invest in equipment or advertising. With nothing. And in less than one month, look where we are. Now we have what Pete is calling a Mafia offer—an offer so good, no one can refuse it.

But where am I going to get more of these brilliant ideas?

How brilliant must it be to guarantee that Stacey’s company will not be thrown to the shredder? Very. Even if we grow the profit to five million a year, it will not be enough. Not even ten. The price they can get by selling it to the wolves is simply too high. They do have a realistic chance to get close to one hundred million dollars. It’s not a fantasy.

It will not be enough to find a marketing breakthrough that will increase sales. We have to find something that is powerful enough that we eat the competitors for breakfast. That’s the only way.

No, I probably don’t know the real cloud, and increasing sales will not be sufficient. But I do know how to find the solution. It’s in my head, hidden, fragmented, maybe even grossly distorted, but if it exists, it’s there. I must use Jonah’s Thinking Processes to bring it out into the open. To surface and polish it.

I’ve already done the most difficult part. Due to Brandon and Jim I’ve already built the Current Reality Tree of the current competitive market. I have to continue on.

And I have to do it myself, I cannot push it on Stacey and Bob. It’s my responsibility, and besides they are likely to look at the situation too narrowly. I must find the generic way. Later, each of them should use it to construct the specific solution for his and her own needs.

Stop procrastinating, I urge myself. The Current Reality Tree points out the core problem; managers are using local optima. The next step is to state it much more precisely. I have to figure out what prevents management from doing much better. Jim is wrong. According to Jonah, we shouldn’t assume ignorance or incompetence on the part of managers. We should assume that they are captured in a conflict that is preventing them from doing the right thing. So, if I want to do it by the book, I should state what the right thing is for them to do and what the conflict is that is preventing them from doing it.

What should I select as “the right thing”? How would I like my managers to run their company?

Isn’t it obvious? I ask myself. They should strive to achieve global optima.

Hmm. I have a problem with that.

Not that I’m against global optima, but If optimum was the best we could do, how come a breakthrough solution gives results that were inconceivable before?

After a while it starts to register. Optimum is doing the best within the box, while what I’m looking for is . . .

Exactly. We desperately need breakthrough solutions. Anything less will not be sufficient. We must find solutions outside the box.

So what am I suggesting? That managers run their companies by always striving to find breakthrough solutions?

No. There is no need to exaggerate.