Just when you thought it was safe to turn on the TV and avoid the Baby Boomer financial planning advertisements (cf., Easy Rider selling Ameriprise), along comes the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. I was a baby when this occurred— and I have never met anyone who was there— so my only knowledge of it comes from movies, newspaper articles, and other media that have documented the event.
Fortunately, my work responsibilities don't require me to have an expert understanding of Woodstock. But what if this wasn’t the case? What if I needed this knowledge to perform the tasks expected of me?
There are many features I like on my Toyota RAV4, but I have to confess the cup holders drive me to distraction. There are two positioned on the floor between the driver and passenger seat, directly below the entertainment console. The placement is fine, but it is their size that is the most noticeable feature. There is no other way to say it—they are simply huge. I am not sure even a Route 44 cherry limeade from Sonic would take up the entire space in one cup holder.
I just finished reading Seth Godin’s book Tribes: We Need You to Lead Us, and, of all the thought provoking statements he makes, that phrase is the one sticking with me. I like to think of it as the equivalent of a car’s accelerator pedal. You can push down and go faster, or let up and coast, but under no circumstance should you touch the brake.
I have been on hiatus from blogging for the last six weeks so, as a way to get back into the swing of things, I have been reviewing recent entries regarding pointers to keep in mind when undertaking change programs. Based on her experiences at BP, Fiona MacCleod provides great insight to the role culture and organization design play in any change program.
One of the most interesting conversations I had at the HR Houston Gulf Coast Symposium conference last week centered on the fragmented nature of personnel files. While HR programs have made tremendous strides towards electronic management of these record sets, HR organizations continue to struggle with inefficiencies caused by multiple physical and electronic repositories.
So, I was passing through a Hardees drive-through the other morning (had to feed the urge for a chicken biscuit), and decided to risk their coffee. While the coffee itself was just okay, what really impressed me was the labeling on the cup. This was no ordinary cup of joe, it was “Channel Islands Coffee”.
I have had the privilege over the last few days to spend time with my Dad and, per usual, we have had heated but good natured debates about any and every topic under the sun. At the heart of each debate, though, is a story about some experience my Dad has had that influenced his view or shaped the way he sees the world.
When we think about the corporate cultures that influence IMT programs, there is a tendency to lean towards one of two extremes. Culture is viewed as a monolith, something that is uniform across the company and permeates every action and event. Or, alternatively, culture is viewed as a big, puffy cloud that you know exists but which resists definition (cf Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart's famous quote on a different topic).
Anne's comment about the "ROI of Sanity" had me thinking about what would happen if we achieved the various wishlists for email management that Glen and Susan put forward. Those features would certainly make an impact, but to what degree would they achieve a measure of sanity?
At the risk of being labeled an information hippie, let's look at creating an Information Peace Coefficient (IPC) that can be applied to business cases. This analysis would give us a sensitivity reading on how likely we are to achieve results from such initiatives. Here is the proposed formula:
