Succession and failure

Norman Windom, the chairman of Tiverton Media, may not know much about the world of popular music, but he does fancy himself a careful planner and a superb judge of managerial talent. That's why he's been grooming COO Sean Kinnane, a Wharton-minted numbers man, to take over an important division, Aleph Records, and one day Tiverton itself. But Derek Solomon, Aleph's 68-year-old CEO and founder, remains a creative force and a father figure to the label's artists. What's more, he's touchy about anything that might slow down Aleph's responses to the market's ever-shifting preferences--or that might call into question his indispensability. Though Sean dutifully participates in Tiverton's broad-based and elaborate executive development plan, he senses that Aleph's future leadership structure is uncertain. As impatient as he is ambitious, he announces that he's leaving Tiverton for more suitable pastures. Several of his associates, also unsure about their fate within Aleph, are following him out the door. In one fell swoop, they've torn Norman's proud succession plan apart. What kind of plan should the board adopt going forward? Commenting on this fictional case study are Francis N. Bonsignore, a senior vice president at Marsh & McLennan; Michelle L. Buck, a clinical associate professor of management and organizations at Northwestern's Kellogg School of Management; Jon Younger, who heads leadership development at National City Corporation, a financial holding company in Cleveland; and Thomas Leppert, the chairman and CEO of the Turner Corporation, a large construction company in Dallas.     

Bob's meltdown

Annette Innella is just coming into the lunchroom at Concord Machines when Bob Dunn starts screaming at her. After throwing his lunch tray against the wall, he stomps out, leaving Annette stunned. Naturally, Annette, the new senior VP for knowledge management, is beside herself. She knows her proposal to establish a cross-functional knowledge management committee is progressive thinking for this oldline manufacturer, but Bob's reaction is totally over the line. If Bob stays, she goes--that's all there is to it. Bob is contrite, but he's under a lot of pressure. The general manager of the Services Group, he's just returned from a two-week trip around the globe to gear up his troops to beat revenue targets again, despite shrinking budgets and hiring freezes. And what does he see when he gets back? An e-mail from Annette requesting that two of his best people devote half their time to what he calls her "idiotic" Knowledge Protocols Group. He's carrying the company on his back, and she's throwing this nonsense at him. Graphics specialist Paula Chancellor is surprised. Sure, Bob's gruff, but his staff loves him, and he's the only one of the big shots who ever talks to her. But HR director Nathan Singer is incensed; Bob's never been a team player, Singer complains, and it's time he learned a lesson. CEO Jay Nguyen is in a bind. Bob is his top manager; he brings in all the money. And even though future revenues are going to have to come from somewhere else, Jay is not totally behind Annette's initiative in the current business climate. He can't afford to lose Bob. But if he reins in Annette, it will look like he's condoning Bob's outburst. What should he do? Four commentators offer advice in this fictional case study.     

Napoleon Was Ill

The Nobel laureate for economics Robert Mundell addressed his opinion on China＇ s exchangerate system and foreign trade on Feb, 13, 2006 He thought that a big change of China＇s exchange rate will result in some bad effects and even cause a financial crisis. It would not only cut down China＇ s growth rate from 9 percent now to perhaps ha f of 9 percent, but also cause some other damages which include decrease in companies＇ profits .     

Too old to learn?

C.J. Albert, the head of family-owned Armor Coat Insurance, is just settling in on a Sunday evening when the receives an unsettling phone call from his star salesman. Fifty-two-year-old Ed McGlynn has just returned from a business dinner with his younger technology mentor, and he's none too happy with the way he's being treated. If C.J. doesn't take this attack dog off him, Ed warns, he's gone. C.J. had indeed assigned 28-year-old Roger Sterling--the company's monomaniacal, slightly antisocial director of e-commerce--to teach Ed about digital strategy and the Web. Reverse mentoring seemed like a good way to create synergy between the sales and technology groups. The goal was to create a digital insurance product that would allow Armor Coat to keep up with its competitors. But there'd been tension between Ed and Roger right from the start--stemming from their personalities and their two departments. So when the two reluctantly agreed to meet for dinner to talk, the conversation didn't go well. Ed insisted that great sales reps, not the Internet, are crucial to selling insurance. Roger insisted that the Web will revolutionize the way insurance is sold and distributed--that Ed either give in or move on. Ed took off in a huff and subsequently phoned C.J. Roger followed Ed's irate call with his own weary ultimatum: "Either Ed goes or I go." C.J. faces some difficult Monday-morning discussions with both disgruntled parties. What should he do? Six commentators, including a mentor-protégé pair, offer their 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.     

Why doesn't this HR department get any respect?

Since becoming managing partner of human resources at Loft Securities more than a year ago, Luke Robinson has tried everything he can think of to change his department's reputation as an administrative backwater. But he's swimming against the tide. Ever since the retirement of a charismatic CEO in 1995, the firm has suffered a slow bleed of good people. The new CEO doesn't have a flair for attracting and retaining talented people, and the HR department hasn't been able to pick up the slack. Robinson has done his best to turn things around. He's met with just about everyone, from senior executives to administrative assistants to external contacts. And, when he found out that recruiting wasn't Loft's only problem, he took a variety of concrete steps. Among other things, he established internal service standards and performance guarantees for his department. He created "listening posts" and implemented and "HR ambassador" program. And he drafted plans for a program to help educate all the company's employees about the role of HR--specifically, how it can contribute to creating and upholding the firm's strategy for success. But Robinson has run over some major speed bumps. Just before he joined the company, HR sullied its reputation by mishandling the investigation of a discrimination charge. And while on Robinson's watch, HR botched the issuance of year-end bonus checks for the managing directors and vice presidents. The frustrations are piling up, leading Robinson to entertain thoughts of bailing out. Five commentators on this fictional case study explain why he should avoid quitting and how he can help his department earn new respect.     

When your star performer can't manage

Vic, the CEO of a sporting goods company in this fictional case study, is pleased with the numbers. For several years now, they've gone steadily in one direction: up. But there's trouble in paradise Hidden from the public's view of industry-dominating winners--from the coolest snowboards to the hottest in-line skates--lies a product development department that may be ready to shatter like cheap fiberglass. There's one reason in particular for the dark rumblings that periodically reach Vic, and his name is Linus Carver. Carver, the company's chief of product development, is the workaholic mad genius who is responsible for most--he might say all--of the company's successful products. At the same time, he has managed to alienate the rest of his staff, including the two whizkid Generation Xers he brought in. He has been charged with everything from stealing ideas to squashing the initiative of the rest of the team. From his perch as CEO, Vic preaches "team". And he's even made a few stabs at reining Carver in--his latest move has been to recommend that his mercurial star get some coaching. But Vic also knows who butters his bread. In short, he's bewildered. Four commentators suggest how Vic can keep the company's product-development group intact and it sales growth strong.     

The very real dangers of executive coaching

A personal coach to help your most promising executives reach their potential--sounds good, doesn't it? But, according to Steven Berglas, executive coaches can make a bad situation worse. Because of their backgrounds and biases, they ignore psychological problems they don't understand. Companies need to consider psychotherapeutic intervention when the symptoms plaguing an executive are stubborn or severe. Executives with issues that require more than coaching come in many shapes and sizes. Consider Rob Bernstein, an executive vice president of sales at an automotive parts distributor. According to the CEO, Bernstein had just the right touch with clients but caused personnel problems inside the company. The last straw came when Bernstein publicly humiliated a mail clerk who had interrupted a meeting to ask someone to sign for a package. At that point, the CEO assigned Tom Davis to coach Bernstein. Davis, a former corporate lawyer, worked with Bernstein for four years. But Davis only exacerbated the problem by teaching Bernstein techniques for "handling" employees--methods that were condescending at best. While Bernstein appeared to be improving, he was in fact getting worse. Bernstein's real problems went undetected, and when his boss left the company, he was picked as the successor. Soon enough, Bernstein was again in trouble, suspected of embezzlement. This time, the CEO didn't call Davis; instead, he turned to the author, a trained psychotherapist, for help. Berglas soon realized that Bernstein had a serious narcissistic personality disorder and executive coaching could not help him. As that tale and others in the article teach us, executives to be coached should at the very least first receive a psychological evaluation. And company leaders should beware that executive coaches given free rein can end up wreaking personnel havoc.     

Ideas as art. Interview by Dane Cutu

Three years ago, consultants Laurence Prusak and Thomas H. Davenport asked prominent management thinkers to name their gurus and reported the results in HBR. James G. March appeared on more lists than any other person except Peter Drucker. A professor emeritus in management, sociology, political science, and education at Stanford University, March has taught courses in subjects as diverse as organizational psychology, behavioral economics, leadership, rules for killing people, friendship, computer simulation, and statistics. He is perhaps best known for his pioneering contributions to organization and management theory. March's accomplishments in that field, and in many others, have conferred on him an almost unprecedented reputation as a rigorous scholar and a deep source of wisdom. As University of Chicago professor John Padgett wrote in the journal Contemporary Sociology, "March's influence, unlike that of any of his peers, is not limited to any possible subset of the social science disciplines; it is pervasive." March approaches thought aesthetically; he cares that ideas have "some form of elegance or grace or surprise." His poetic sensibility can be felt in the metaphors he has created over the years--the "garbage can theory" of organizational choice, for instance, and the "hot-stove effect" in learning. In this edited interview with HBR senior editor Diane Coutu, March shares his thinking on aesthetics, leadership, the role of folly, and the irrelevance of relevance when it comes to the pursuit of ideas. He also comments on the fundamental differences between academic and experiential knowledge, underscoring the need for both.     

Behave yourself. Interview by Gardiner Morse

Executive consultant Marshall Goldsmith tells his CEO clients that he's not the real coach; the people around them are. To change your behavior, he says, quit whining about the past and start asking your colleagues how you can do better. You're not done until they think you are.     

Is this the right time to come out? Case study

In this fictional case study, Adam Lawson is a promising young associate at Kirkham McDowell Securities, a St. Louis underwriting and financial advisory firm. Recently, Adam helped to bring in an extremely lucrative deal, and soon he and a few other associates will be honored for their efforts at the firm's silver anniversary dinner. George Campbell, vice president in mergers and acquisitions, is caught unprepared when Adam tells him that, after serious reflection, he has decided to bring his partner, Robert Collins, to the banquet. George is one of Adam's biggest supporters at the firm, and he personally has no problem with Adam being gay. But it is one thing for Adam to come out of the closet at the office. It is quite another to do so at a public company-client event. After all, Kirkham McDowell's client roster includes some very conservative companies--one of the country's largest defense contractors, for example. George is concerned with how Adam's openness about his sexual orientation will play with their clients and, as a result, how senior management will react. Adam has not come to George for permission to bring Robert to the dinner. But clearly Adam wants some sort of response. George has never faced sexual diversity issues in the workplace before, and there is no company policy to guide him. Just how negative an effect could Robert have on Adam's career with the firm and the firm's relationship with its clients? Isn't it possible that even the firm's most conservative clients will simply decide that Adam's choice of guest is a personal matter--not a business one?(ABSTRACT TRUNCATED AT 250 WORDS)     

Positive intelligence

Most of us assume that success will lead to happiness. Shawn Achor, founder of the corporate strategy firm Good Think, argues that we've got it backward; in work he's done with KPMG and Pfizer, and studies he's conducted in concert with Yale's psychology department, he has seen how happiness actually precedes success. Happy employees are more productive, more creative, and better at problem solving than their unhappy peers. In this article, Achor lays out three strategies for improving your own mental well-being at work. In tough economic times, they're essential for keeping yourself-and your team-at peak performance.     

New Leadership at the Federal Reserve*

As Chairman of the Federal Reserve for the past 18 years, Alan Greenspan deserves praise for his stewardship of monetary policy. He has guided the Fed and monetary policy in a way that has led to low and stable inflation. But if Greenspan's record clearly deserves praise, he could have done more to move monetary policy into the 21st century and prepare the institution for the future. Greenspan has relied heavily on his personal judgment and has argued repeatedly that the Fed must have extensive flexibility to respond to the economic environment. But if Greenspan's judgment, skill, and luck have served him and the country well, it is dangerous to rely so heavily on the judgment of a single individual. When he departed, he took with him his skill and judgment, as well as his credibility and his personal commitment to low inflation. The Fed he leaves behind has no explicit institutional commitment to long‐run price stability. This article argues that by operating with a set of rules and guidelines, or at a minimum clearly stated institutional objectives, the Fed would eliminate much of the second guessing about what it is doing and why, and the associated volatility in markets. More generally, the benefits of more explicit guidelines for monetary policy include:

• ? Increasing public understanding of monetary policy, including what it can and cannot do.
• ? Increasing transparency and accountability. Most organizations have clear goals and we hold their leaders accountable. The Fed is different. The Fed seems to be held accountable for all things economic and thus it is truly accountable for nothing. It never has to explain its actions and what went right or wrong.
• ? Establishing a clear focus for the Fed regarding its goals and objectives.
• ? Creating increased confidence that sound monetary policy will be followed in the future.

     

When no news is good news

For as long as can be remembered, BestBaby Corporation, a manufacturer of baby equipment and furniture, has enjoyed a solid reputation with retailers, a good track record with consumers, and a supportive relationship with stockholders. But then the child of a celebrity is injured when her stroller tips over because its brakes failed. The media go wild, and CEO Greg James finds himself in uncharted territory. The morning after the accident, Greg calls an emergency meeting of his executive staff. As he searches his memory to prepare for it, he thinks about Arzep Enterprises, BestBaby's main provider of parts and materials. He remembers his COO, Keith Sigismund, telling him that Arzep had switched suppliers at some point in order to cut its own costs. Nevertheless, Keith had assured Greg that the new material, although not quite as sturdy, hadn't affected the quality of Arzep's components. By the time the meeting is set to begin, several employees have threatened to quit, and stories are surfacing in the press and on the Web about other consumers who have had problems with their strollers. Then in the meeting, Keith drops a bombshell: he reads from a year-old memo sent to him by an employee in manufacturing stating that the new brake fittings delivered by Arzep don't grab the front brakes as well as the ones previously supplied. The same employee, and others, had complained in the past that Keith hadn't adequately attended to concerns they brought up to him. In this fictional case study, four commentators offer advice to Greg on how BestBaby should respond to the victim's family, the media, the public, and the company's own employees during this PR crisis.     

The shakedown

Customer Strategy Solutions, a California-based developer of order-fulfillment systems, is facing a shakedown. Six months after the firm's CEO, Pavlo Zhuk, set up a software development center in Kiev, local bureaucrats say the company hasn't filed all the tax schedules it should have. Moreover, Ukrainian tax officials claim that the company owes the government tax arrears. Zhuk is shocked; he and his colleagues have done everything by the book. This isn't the first time Zhuk has encountered trouble in Ukraine. In the process of getting the development center up and running, a state-owned telecommunications utility had made it difficult for Zhuk to get the phone lines his company needed. Senior telecom manager Vasyl Feodorovych Mylofienko had told Zhuk it would take three years to install the lines in his office-but for a certain price, Mylofienko had added, the lines could be functioning the following week. Even as the picture of rampant bribery and corruption in Ukraine becomes clear, Zhuk still doesn't want to pull out of the country. Of Ukrainian descent, he has dreams of helping to modernize the country. By paying his programmers more than they could make at any local company, he hopes to raise their standard of living so they can afford three meals a day without having to barter, stand in queues for hours, or moonlight. And yet, he isn't sure he can keep compromising his principles for the sake of the greater good. Should Customer Strategy Solutions pay off the Ukrainian tax officials? Commenting on this fictional case study are Alan L. Boeckmann, the chairman and CEO of Fluor Corporation; Rafael Di Tella, a professor at Harvard Business School; Thomas W. Dunfee, the Kolodny Professor of Social Responsibility and a professor of legal studies at Wharton; and Bozidar Djelic, the former finance and economy minister of Serbia.     

盖特纳财技之美

这个问题,不太好说。电话那头,马向伍想婉拒记者的约访,因为财政人有自己的考虑,新闻界有自己的要求。这个不好说的问题,即财政的宣传,财政的说法儿。事实上,跨界人士马向伍既曾任     

Carl L. Nelson: The Interrogator (1910–2007)

During the 1940s–1970s, Carl Nelson was an imposing figure, literally and figuratively, in American academic accounting. With high expectations for his students, he taught several generations of accountants, practitioners, and professors. He made accounting exciting and provocative by encouraging his students to critique GAAP, to explore alternatives to conventional accounting wisdom, and to search for substance in transactions regardless of form. He urged his students to question every thing, regardless of who said or wrote it. As a classroom professor and a reviewer of academic works, he was at times a harsh critic. As an advisor to students, he was generally helpful, if not gracious. Carl Nelson was most assuredly a rare breed in accounting academe. This paper examines his controversial teaching approach and considers his legacy.     

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.