The IT system that couldn't deliver

Diana Sullivan, CIO of Lenox Insurance, thought she had done her job when, after three years of hard work, she had delivered Lifexpress on time and on budget. A sophisticated computer-aided system, it enabled Lenox's 10,000-plus agents to do everything from establish a prospect's financial profile, to select the most appropriate products from the company's myriad policies, to generate all the paperwork needed to close a sale. But now Sullivan's boss, CFO Clay Fontana, seemed to be holding her accountable not only for the creation and implementation of the system but for realizing its business goals as well. And Lenox's CEO, James Bennett, appeared to concur. Two of Lenox's competitors had launched similar systems and were training their agents on them at a faster clip. Fontana and Bennett made it clear they believed it to be Sullivan's problem that Lifexpress wasn't boosting sales productivity as much as management had expected. "It's your system," Fontana had said. "We made this tremendous investment based on your recommendations." A 20-year veteran information systems executive, Sullivan knew going into this job that computers had never been one of Lenox's strengths. And she had taken what she felt were the appropriate steps to bring the company up to speed. In this hypothetical case study, Sullivan and the other top executives at Lenox must decide who should be responsible for realizing the business goals of information technology projects. Should Sullivan have gone about the project in another way? Should Fontana and Bennett be playing more active roles? Five experts weigh in with their advice for Sullivan and for Lenox's management.     

Interview God

"Come in,"God said to me,"so,you would like to interview Me?" "If you have the time."I said. He smiled through His beard and said:"My time is called eternity and is enough to do everything;what questions do you have in mind to ask me?" "None that are new to you.What's the one thing that surprises you most about mankind?"     

A blogger in their midst

It was five minutes before show time, and only 15 people had wandered into the conference room to hear Lancaster-Webb CEO Will Somerset introduce the company's latest line of surgical gloves. More important, sales prospect Samuel Taylor, medical director of the Houston Clinic, had failed to show. Will walked out of the ballroom to steady his nerves and noticed a spillover crowd down the hall. He made a "What's up?" gesture to Judy Chen, Lancaster-Webb's communications chief. She came over to him. "It's Glove Girl. You know, the blogger," Judy said, as if this explained anything. "I think she may have stolen your crowd." "Who is she?" Will asked. Glove Girl was a factory worker at Lancaster-Webb whose always outspoken, often informative postings on her Web log had developed quite a following. Will was new to the world of blogging, but he quickly learned about its power in a briefing with his staff. After Glove Girl had raved about Lancaster-Webb's older SteriTouch disposable gloves, orders had surged. More recently, though, Glove Girl had questioned the Houston Clinic's business practices, posting damaging information at her site about its rate of cesarean deliveries--to Sam Taylor's consternation. This fictional case study considers the question of whether a highly credible, but sometimes inaccurate and often indiscreet, on-line diarist is more of a liability than an asset to her employer. What, if anything, should Will Somerset do about Glove Girl? Four commentators--David Wein-berger, author of Small Pieces Loosely Joined; Pamela Samuelson, a professor of law and information management at the University of California, Berkeley; Ray Ozzie, CEO and chairman of Groove Networks; and Erin Motameni, vice president of human resources at EMC-offer expert advice.     

Bedtime Prayers

Julie was saying her bedtime prayers. "Please God", she said, "Make Naples the capital of Italy. Make Naples the capital of Italy."     

周炜 做VC需慢工出细活儿

对于KPCB的合伙人周炜来说,选择做VC的生活,注定不轻松。不过,虽然过程经常与风险与困难相伴,但收获同样颇多。     

Mommy-track backlash

"Please don't tell me that I need to have a baby to have this time off." Those words were still ringing in the ears of Jessica Gonon an hour after a tense meeting with Jana Rowe, one of her key account managers. Jessica, the vice president of sales and customer support at ClarityBase, considered Jana's request for a four-day workweek, for which she was willing to take a corresponding 20% cut in pay. Although the facts seemed simple, the situation was anything but. Just last week, Davis Bennett, another account manager, had made a similar request. He wanted a lighter workload so he could train for the Ironman Triathlon World Championship. Both Jana and Davis were well aware that Megan Flood, another account manager, had been working a reduced schedule for nearly two years. When she was hired, Megan had requested Fridays off to spend time with her two young sons. And since she came highly recommended and the talent pool was tight, Jessica had agreed to the arrangement. The eight account managers at ClarityBase were in charge of helping the company's largest clients install and maintain database applications, which often required no small amount of hand-holding and coddling. Because Megan had an abbreviated schedule, the other account managers were assigned the more difficult clients. But if Jessica agreed to a shorter workweek for Jana and Davis, who would take on the toughest customers? And what would happen if the other account managers started asking for similar deals? How can Jessica maintain the productivity of her department and meet her staff's needs for flexible work schedules while striking an equitable solution for both parents and nonparents? Four experts advise Jessica on her next move in this fictional case study.     

It wasn't about race. Or was it?

Hope Barrows, a partner at the national accounting firm Fuller Fenton, drove to the office on Sunday and swiped her access card to enter the parking garage. She noticed that another car followed her in--without using an access card. Hope could see that the driver was a man, but she didn't recognize him. Concerned for her safety, she got out and asked to see his ID. Dillon Johnson, an associate at the same firm, was rushing to meet a colleague to review a client's file. Seeing the garage door was open, he drove straight through. He was puzzled when the car in front of him stopped. The female driver got out of her car, walked over to him, and asked for his ID. He felt he was being unfairly questioned because he was black. Hope was white. Now it's Monday, and managing partner Jack Parsons is being deluged with calls. The company seems to be splitting into two angry camps. Some charge that the organization is racist; others are outraged that a woman was made to feel unsafe. One thing is clear: this incident is just the tip of the iceberg. Jack would like to think that Fuller Fenton embraces diversity, but the experiences of Dillon and other African-Americans at the firm tell a very different story. In fact, Jack knows that Dillon was taken off a team for fear that the client--an old-line company in Texas--might object. Jack is trying to calm people down, but he doesn't know what his next step should be. Four commentators offer advice in this fictional case study.     

Losing it

"It's worse than I thought.... She's completely lost her mind," says Harry Beecham, the CEO of blue chip management consultancy Pierce and Company. The perplexed executive was in a hotel suite with his wife in Amsterdam, the latest stop on his regular trek to dozens of Pierce offices worldwide. In his hand was a sheaf of paper--the same message sent over and over again by his star employee and protégée Katharina Waldburg. The end of the world is coming, she warned. "Someone is going to die." Harry wouldn't have expected this sort of behavior from Katharina. After graduating with distinction from Oxford, she made a name for herself by single-handedly building Pierce's organizational behavior practice. At 27, she's poised to become the youngest partner ever elected at the firm. But Harry can't ignore the faxes in his hand. Or the stream-of-consciousness e-mails Katharina's been sending to one of the directors in Pierce's Berlin office--mostly gibberish but potentially disastrous to Katharina's reputation if they ever got out. Harry also can't dismiss reports from Roland Fuoroli, manager of the Berlin office, of a vicious verbal exchange Katharina had with him, or of an "over the top" lunch date Katharina had with one of Pierce's clients in which she was explaining the alphabet's role in the creation of the universe. Harry is planning to talk to Katharina when he gets to Berlin. What should he say? And will it be too late? Four commentators offer their advice in this fictional case study. They are Kay Redfield Jamison, a professor of psychiatry and a coauthor of Manic-Depressive Illness; David E. Meen, a former director at McKinsey & Company; Norman Pearlstine, the editor in chief at Time Incorporated; and Richard Primus, an assistant law professor at the University of Michigan.     

The moonlighter

Jeremy Hicks, Zagante Systems' lead programmer, walks into the office at eight o'clock on a Sunday night and does a double take when he spots his boss, Melanie. She's equally surprised to find she isn't alone. Before leaving for the evening, Melanie pays Jeremy a visit, only to discover that he isn't hard at work on Zagante's new product--he's programming a game for another company. The next day over lunch, Melanie confronts Jeremy and lets him know that he needs to stay focused on Zagante's new software. Jeremy insists that he's fully engaged in it. So Melanie agrees to keep the moonlighting under wraps so long as it doesn't interfere with Jeremy's job. That night, Melanie sits down at her laptop and opens up a Google window. "Moonlighting," she types. Dismayed at the number of hits, she changes her search to "Fired for moonlighting." This search leads her to case after case, but none helps her with Jeremy. She tries one more time. "Promoted for moonlighting," she types. No surprise. Zero hits. Frustrated with Jeremy, yet anxious to keep such a talented employee, Melanie turns to Jill Darby, Zagante's HR director, for guidance. Jill has both good and bad news. The bad news is that the company has no moonlighting policy. The good news is that Jill can arrange for Jeremy to receive a low-interest loan. But when Melanie tells Jeremy about the loan, he doesn't go for it. He's not just freelancing for the money, it turns out; he's downright enjoying the work and doesn't appreciate his boss butting in to his private business. How should Melanie handle this moonlighting issue? Commentators Bill Jensen, author of Work 2.0: Rewriting the Contract; attorney Barry LePatner; economics professors Jean Kimmel and Karen Conway; and HR director Sandra Davis offer advice in this fictional case study.     

Leadership development: perk or priority?

Karen Barton, Zendal Pharmaceuticals' senior vice president of human resources, was livid when COO Dave Palmer slashed her executive education budget by 75%. It must have been a mistake. Without funding there could be no in-house leadership development program, which was to be the first step toward a full-blown Zendal University. But it wasn't a mistake. Not that Palmer was against bold initiatives, but, as he patiently told Barton, sales were down 26%, and there was that $300 million debt Zendal took on when it acquired Premier Pharmaceuticals. As a result, Barton's budget wasn't the only one being cut. Palmer added that it wasn't clear what the return on investment of her proposed program--or any of her current ones for that matter--would be. Barton's analysis had been woefully short on quantitative benefits. Figuring ROI for people isn't the same as calculating the payback from a machine, Barton complained to friend and ally Carlos Freitas, head of the medical devices division. But Freitas disagreed: "If you want dollars, you have to show how you fit in with [management's] plans. You must be willing to fight for resources with the rest of us." Barton bristled: "Don't you see that my department is connected to all the others? Every division benefits from the HR budget." But she knew Freitas was right. She needed to make the case that doubling her budget was a smart move even in tough times. The question was, How? Four commentators--Susan Burnett, an HR executive at Hewlett-Packard; Mike Morrison, dean of the University of Toyota; Noel M. Tichy, professor at the University of Michigan Business School; and David Owens, vice president of Bausch & Lomb's corporate university--offer advice in this fictional case study.