Discipline makes Daring possible.

They are not you

They are not you

There’s a very good reason why, as a Boss, you might balk at writing down your Customer Experience Score.

It’s not your style.

As the founder of your own small business, there’s a good chance you are a proactive, internally motivated, independent, options-oriented person.  You probably hate the idea of following someone else’s instructions.   After all, that may be a good part of why you set up on your own in the first place.  To follow your own rules, do what you think is right, try out different ways of doing things.

Your style is brilliant for setting up a new venture, you’re happy to experiment until you get your offer and your customer experience right.  And as long as its just you delivering it, things are fine.

The problems start to come as you take on new people, not to do the things you probably shouldn’t do, like bookkeeping or HR, or health and safety, but to act as if they were you in looking after prospects and clients.

But they are not you.

They don’t know what you know, they don’t have the history of how you got here, they don’t have your muscle memory of how to do things, and they almost certainly don’t work in your style.

Some of them will be more reactive than proactive.  Some will be more procedures-oriented – they will be more comfortable following a process.  Some will be more externally motivated – they will care more about what others think of them, about what you think of them.

None of this means they can’t do the job of looking after customers as well as you.  Some will do it even better than you.   It just means they won’t do it in exactly the same way as you, and they can’t learn how to in the same way you did – by working through it.

So, since like most of us, you are probably also a ‘my rules for me, my rules for you’ kind of person – what’s good for you is good for them – you assume that your people will just get in on with it.   That having seen you do it, they’ll be able to do it themselves – exactly as you do.   That they won’t want ‘to follow other people’s instructions’.  And at the same time you worry that they will want to put their own spin on it, to do it their own way, not yours.

And that your clients wouldn’t like it if they did.

But that’s just not true.

This is not a judgement on you.  This is just how it is.  People are different, in interesting ways that can enhance or diminish the experience for your clients.

You want to minimise the possibility of diminishing, but with ‘my way or the highway’ you minimise the possibility of enhancing too.

A much more satisfying approach is to get your vision of your ideal customer experience out of your head, and onto ‘paper’, not as ‘instructions’, but as a guide, like music, what I call a ‘Customer Experience Score’.

A Score that doesn’t dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s, or tell people what to do in excruciating detail.   That doesn’t dictate their every move, but tells them clearly and simply, visually, what has to happen, when, for the customer, leaving the details of execution to them.

The good news is that as an options person, you quite like setting up processes, you just don’t like following them.   So this job is perfect for you.

And when you’re done, you can share the work of caring for customers with more of your team, safe in the knowledge that they won’t go wrong, but they can be more right.

You’ll all be happier for it.

And so will your customers.

Discipline makes Daring possible.

Ask me how.

Succession

Succession

“My demonic drive to overcome or destroy any barrier certainly helped Riverford up to a point. But since we became employee owned, I’ve come to appreciate that dispersed power & consultation lead to better, safer, less impulsive decisions, & they don’t have to come at the price of bravery & responsiveness. Watching governance develop at Riverford makes me realise we need to give those with emotional balance, who shout less & don’t need power to bolster their fragile egos, a route to leadership & influence.” Guy Singh-Watson.

As the entrepreneur, the original Boss, you are the pebble that got the ripples going, the source of the vision that made the business take off.  But as we know, that doesn’t necessarily make you the best person to take it further.

At least, not on your own.

But for a founder, it can be incredibly scary to cede control, to hand over responsibility for that precious customer experience to someone else.

The answer is to take the ‘governance’ – the way your vision drives what the business does, and how it does it – out of one head (or a few), and build it into the business itself.

So it can be a firm foundation for leadership and influence; a springboard for bravery and responsiveness, accessible to everyone.

A bit of Discipline from you, the original Boss, makes Daring possible.   Everyone can become a Boss.

There’s no better way to ensure that your legacy will ripple on.

Ask me how.

 

There is no such thing as Admin

There is no such thing as Admin

If I ruled the world, there would be no such thing as admin.

 

No doing the job, and then recording that you’ve done the job.

No doing the job, then trying to remember how long it took you.

No working out how far you are through doing a job.

No going looking for the things I need to do the job.  They would simply appear when I need them as a result of another job, done by me or someone else.

No raising invoices for a job done, days or even weeks after it was done. Getting paid is an intrinsic part of doing the job.  It can also take place in parallel.

No starting a job without finishing it.  Or at least leaving it in a clearly defined and safe state.

 

There would be reporting.  It just wouldn’t be me doing it.   Doing the job would produce this information as a side-effect.  No need to create extra ‘work about work’ to do that.

There would be feedback too.  From the system to me, that tells me where I am and how I’m doing.   From other humans to me and from me to other humans about how we could make doing the job easier, faster, cheaper, more effective – for the benefit of the people we serve.

 

Let software do all the admin.  Leave the difficult, unpredictable, interesting bits of doing the job to me please.   I’m better at them than any machine.

 

My world is not so hard to achieve.  It’s possible right now.

 

All you have to do is think differently about what a job is.

Ask me how.

 

Discipline makes Daring possible.

Revisiting the past

Revisiting the past

Today seemed like a good day to revisit this blog post, inspired four and a half years ago, by Seth Godin:

“In the last fifty years, thanks to Deming and Crosby and others, we’ve gotten significantly better at creating perfect outputs that don’t rely on heroism and luck. Design a better system, you’ll get better outputs.

I’m grateful every day for the nearly invisible perfect things that I count on… but, and I feel spoiled to say this, I take the perfect for granted.

I’m way more interested, and spend far more time and money on the imperfect things, the things that might not work, the ideas and services and products that dance around the edges.”

I agree. Over time, the perfection of processes has freed ever more of us up to spend ever more time on the interesting, edgy things – telling stories instead of fetching water, making art instead of travelling for days on end, discovering new things instead of cooking, connecting with and trusting strangers instead of only dealing with people we already know.

But I also disagree with Seth’s implication that you can only have one or the other, perfect process or interesting edge, invisible clockwork or flesh and blood.

For me the fascinating challenge is to how to combine both.

How do you put enough process in place to make sure that what should be invisible stays invisible, without restricting the free exploration that discovers new edges?

How do you ensure that clockwork-like perfection supports and enables flesh and blood to dance around the edges, making things more human, more emotional, more daring?

If a process framework is like a musical score, how do you make it more jazz than classical?

I didn’t have a perfect answer, then, and I don’t now, but I am getting closer.

  • It’s about defining a floor (even better, a springboard), ‘the least that should happen’, along with strict guardrails – your Unbreakable Promises, that constrain possible actions to what fits with your Promise of Value.
  • It’s about defining ‘what’, not ‘how’.
  • It’s about maps, not GPS tracking.
  • It’s about embracing uncertainty for its potential upside, while making sure any downside won’t kill you.
  • It’s about automating drudgery, to free humans to be human, and play.

Above all, its about giving human beings the context, the tools and the authority to think for themselves and take the consequences, good as well as bad.

It’s about freedom.  Freedom that recognises every other’s right to the same.

Discipline makes Daring possible

Ask me how.

Harmony

Harmony

Harmony isn’t only everyone singing or playing the same tune at the same time, powerful as that kind of harmony is.

Harmony can also be an active fitting together of differences so that together they sound more than the sum of the parts.

The first kind of harmony is easy to take part in.  Just sing or play along wth everyone else.

The second takes more effort, to hear what’s going on around you, keep time and co-ordinate your own music making accordingly.  An active fitting together of differences to create a much richer sound experience.

You can teach people to make the first kind of harmony just by getting them to practice.

For the second, you need a score.

Which means you have to become a composer, not an instructor.

 

Discipline makes Daring possible

Ask me how.

 

HT to Bettany Hughes for prompting this one.

How to tame the tiger

How to tame the tiger

Growing your small business from you, to a few and then a few more people can feel like riding a tiger.  Unpredictable, challenging, dangerous even.

New customers, new employees, new ideas, new ways of doing things that don’t match the customer experience you carefully crafted on your own.  Trying to match increased costs with an increase in income.  It can feel like everything just gets wilder.

The answer isn’t to cage the tiger, or to beat her into submission.

Instead, make sure she shares the values you value, tell her what you want her to do to make and keep your promises, give her a safe enclosure to roam in, and let her get on with it.

Get off her back.

Because she’s not actually a tiger.

She’s a team of people like you, who want to do the best they can, like you, in a space that gives them agency, mastery, autonomy, purpose and a feeling of community, like you.

Discipline makes Daring possible.

Ask me how.

How to help the climate anxious

How to help the climate anxious

How do you help the climate anxious (terrified!), overwhelmed by the enormity of what they see coming?

Here’s one way:

– Help them to see the system they are in.
– Enable them to find their own way into an examination of it’s structure.
– Connect the dots, so they can find their best place to take action.
– Show them where others are already making a difference.
– Enrol them into a growing web of actors changing the system.

In other words, give them an opportunity to exercise the agency, mastery and autonomy they crave, for a mighty purpose, in a growing community of like-minded, like-hearted people.

Connect the Carbon Dots is a fine project to be part of.

A self-managing system

A self-managing system

This junction, near where I live, used to be managed by traffic lights.  It’s a busy junction on the relief road around the town centre.   It’s used by cars crossing through the town in 4 directions, buses getting into the town centre, and pedestrians heading to the shops or to catch a bus.

With traffic lights, everyone had equal priority.   Queues of cars and buses would build up, while each lane took it’s turn.  Pedestrians would wait for 5 minutes or so to get their turn.  At rush hour, the car queues would back up a long way, making everyone grumpy and selfish, blocking the junction for everyone.

Then, several years ago, it was turned into this roundabout.

A roundabout is a pretty wonderful invention.   It’s not really a thing, but a protocol, a set of rules based on responsible autonomy.  A driver chooses when to use it, responsible not just for their own safety, but also the safety of other users.    Busy roundabouts aren’t always great through, the entrance with the heaviest traffic ends up having a de-facto higher priority than the others, and at busy times, pedestrians barely get a look in.

For the best possible flow of traffic, the answer was to make the roundabout part of a shared space like this, where pedestrian crossing places (but not zebra crossings, which would give pedestrians priority) are clearly marked, and the painted roundabout gives drivers a clue how to use it, but not the priority a built-up roundabout with signage would give them over pedestrians.

The roundabout protocol governs the cars at busy times, and the uncertainty of the pedestrian crossings means at all times, everyone has to slow down, look at their fellow road users and negotiate their way across the space.

The difference this made was immediate and huge.   It’s busy at rush hours, and that makes drivers a little less likely to stop for pedestrians, but its never been as bad as it was before.

But what I only realised the other week, when I took this photo, was that in this space, the pedestrians make the roundabout work even better.

A pedestrian crossing one arm of the junction can break a flow of car traffic and give cars on another arm a chance to get on the roundabout.  So even at busy times, traffic flows more or less smoothly, because when there are more cars, there are also more pedestrians to interrupt the flow.

The best thing of all though, is that this setup enables people to see each other as people – we make eye contact, acknowledge each others’ presence and most of the time behave graciously towards each other.

It’s a self-managing system, with people at its heart.

 

What’s the relevance of this to a small business?

Well, a founder usually starts off as a set of traffic lights, controlling everything strictly from the centre.

When this gets too much, they might delegate the traffic lights job to a manager, a ‘traffic cop’.  Which isn’t much fun for the traffic cop and doesn’t change anything for road users.

Or they install policies, rules, procedures, expecting people to follow them with the same level of strictness.  Which makes things better, but still not as flexible as they could be, and certainly not as much fun.   Things still get clogged up at busy times, and pedestrians (the people) often get ignored.

My answer is to put a system like this into place:

Install a protocol based on responsible autonomy (a Customer Experience Score), into a shared space of values (your Promise of Value), that’s focused on the desired outcome (Making and Keeping your Promise to customers) and gives plenty of room for gracious flexibility.    To create a self-managing system, with people at its heart.  No supervision required.

Discipline makes Daring possible.   But only when the Discipline isn’t rigid.

Ask me how.

Keeping it simple

Keeping it simple

If you don’t tackle the underlying organizational complexity and bureaucracy that generate the torrent of meetings and email requests, you’re not going to make much progress–no matter how clever your personal “hack” might be. Michele Zanini in response to: “Workers Now Spend Two Full Days a Week on Email and in Meetings“.

No matter how ambitious you are, I bet you don’t want your small business to end up like this.

If you keep the overall structure simple and the purpose clear:

Then empower your team to manage processes rather than other people, you can make sure you never do.

And that means you can grow bigger, without growing slower.

Discipline makes Daring possible.

Ask me how.