The Goal: A Process of Ongoing Improvement (5 page)

Two weeks ago, I’m wearing the same suit as now. This is back in the good days when I think that everything will work out. I’m traveling, and I’m between planes at O’Hare. I’ve got some time, so I go to one of the airline lounges. Inside, the place is jammed with business types like me. I’m looking for a seat in this place, gazing over the three-piece pinstripes and the women in conservative blazers and so on, when my eye pauses on the yarmulke worn by the man in the sweater. He’s sitting next to a lamp, reading, his book in one hand and his cigar in the other. Next to him there happens to be an empty seat. I make for it. Not until I’ve almost sat down does it strike me I think I know this guy.

Running into someone you know in the middle of one of the busiest airports in the world carries a shock with it. At first, I’m not sure it’s really him. But he looks too much like the physicist I used to know for him to be anyone but Jonah. As I start to sit down, he glances up at me from his book, and I see on his face the same unspoken question: Do I know you?

"Jonah?’’ I ask him.
"Yes?’’
"I’m Alex Rogo. Remember me?’’
His face tells me that he doesn’t quite.
"I knew you some time ago,’’ I tell him. "I was a student. I got a grant to go and study some of the mathematical models you were working on. Remember? I had a beard back then.’’

A small flash of recognition finally hits him. "Of course! Yes, I do remember you. ‘Alex,’ was it?’’
"Right.’’
A waitress asks me if I’d like something to drink. I order a scotch and soda and ask Jonah if he’ll join me. He decides he’d better not; he has to leave shortly.
"So how are you these days?’’ I ask.
"Busy,’’ he says. "Very busy. And you?’’
"Same here. I’m on my way to Houston right now,’’ I say. "What about you?’’
"New York,’’ says Jonah.
He seems a little bored with this line of chit-chat and looks as if he’d like to finish the conversation. A second of quiet falls between us. But, for better or worse, I have this tendency (which I’ve never been able to bring under control) of filling silence in a conversation with my own voice.
"Funny, but after all those plans I had back then of going into research, I ended up in business,’’ I say. "I’m a plant manager now for UniCo.’’
Jonah nods. He seems more interested. He takes a puff on his cigar. I keep talking. It doesn’t take much to keep me going.
"In fact, that’s why I’m on my way to Houston. We belong to a manufacturers’ association, and the association invited UniCo to be on a panel to talk about robotics at the annual conference. I got picked by UniCo, because my plant has the most experience with robots.’’
"I see,’’ says Jonah. "Is this going to be a technical discussion?’’
"More business oriented than technical,’’ I say. Then I remember I have something I can show him. "Wait a second....’’
I crack open my briefcase on my lap and pull out the advance copy of the program the association sent me.
“Here we are,” I say, and read the listing to him. “ ‘Robotics: Solution to America’s Productivity Crisis in the new millenium . . . a panel of users and experts discusses the coming impact of industrial robots on American manufacturing.’ ”
But when I look back to him, Jonah doesn’t seem very impressed. I figure, well, he’s an academic person; he’s not going to understand the business world.
"You say your plant uses robots?’’ he asks.
"In a couple of departments, yes,’’ I say.
"Have they really increased productivity at your plant?’’
"Sure they have,’’ I say. "We had—what?’’ I scan the ceiling for the figure. "I think it was a thirty-six percent improvement in one area.’’
"Really... thirty-six percent?’’ asks Jonah. "So your company is making thirty-six percent more money from your plant just from installing some robots? Incredible.’’
I can’t hold back a smile.
"Well...no,’’ I say. "We all wish it were that easy! But it’s a lot more complicated than that. See, it was just in one department that we had a thirty-six percent improvement.’’ Jonah looks at his cigar, then extinguishes it in the ashtray. "Then you didn’t really increase productivity,’’ he says. I feel my smile freeze.
"I’m not sure I understand,’’ I say.
Jonah leans forward conspiratorially and says, "Let me ask you something—just between us: Was your plant able to ship even one more product per day as a result of what happened in the department where you installed the robots?’’
I mumble, "Well, I’d have to check the numbers . . .’’
"Did you fire anybody?’’ he asks.
I lean back, looking at him. What the hell does he mean by that?
"You mean did we lay anybody off? Because we installed the robots?’’ I say. "No, we have an understanding with our union that nobody will be laid off because of productivity improvement. We shifted the people to other jobs. Of course, when there’s a business downturn, we lay people off.’’
"But the robots themselves didn’t reduce your plant’s people expense,’’ he says.
"No,’’ I admit.
"Then, tell me, did your inventories go down?’’ asks Jonah.
I chuckle.
"Hey, Jonah, what is this?’’ I say to him.
"Just tell me,’’ he says. "Did inventories go down?’’
"Offhand, I have to say I don’t think so. But I’d really have to check the numbers.’’
"Check your numbers if you’d like,’’ says Jonah. "But if your inventories haven’t gone down . . . and your employee expense was not reduced... and if your company isn’t selling more products—which obviously it can’t, if you’re not shipping more of them—then you can’t tell me these robots increased your plant’s productivity.’’
In the pit of my stomach, I’m getting this feeling like you’d probably have if you were in an elevator and the cable snapped.
"Yeah, I see what you’re saying, in a way,’’ I tell him. "But my efficiencies went up, my costs went down—’’
"Did they?’’ asks Jonah. He closes his book.
"Sure they did. In fact, those efficiencies are averaging well above ninety percent. And my cost per part went down considerably. Let me tell you, to stay competitive these days, we’ve got to do everything we can to be more efficient and reduce costs.’’
My drink arrives; the waitress puts it on the table beside me. I hand her a
ten
and wait for her to give me the change.
"With such high efficiencies, you must be running your robots constantly,’’ says Jonah.
"Absolutely,’’ I tell him. "We have to. Otherwise, we’d lose our savings on our cost per part. And efficiencies would go down. That applies not only to the robots, but to our other production resources as well. We have to keep producing to stay efficient and maintain our cost advantage.’’
"Really?’’ he says.
"Sure. Of course, that’s not to say we don’t have our problems.’’
"I see,’’ says Jonah. Then he smiles. "Come on! Be honest. Your inventories are going through the roof, are they not?’’
I look at him. How does he know?
"If you mean our work-in-process—’’
"All of your inventories,’’ he says.
"Well, it depends. Some places, yes, they are high,’’ I say.
"And everything is always late?’’ asks Jonah. "You can’t ship anything on time?’’
"One thing I’ll admit,’’ I tell him, "is that we have a heck of a problem meeting shipping dates. It’s a serious issue with customers lately.’’
Jonah nods, as if he had predicted it.
"Wait a minute here... how come you know about these things?’’ I ask him.
He smiles again.
"Just a hunch,’’ says Jonah. "Besides, I see those symptoms in a lot of the manufacturing plants. You’re not alone.’’
I say, "But aren’t you a physicist?’’
"I’m a scientist,’’ he says. "And right now you could say I’m doing work in the science of organizations—manufacturing organizations in particular.’’
"Didn’t know there was such a science.’’
"There is now,’’ he says.
"Whatever it is you’re into, you put your finger on a couple of my biggest problems, I have to give you that,’’ I tell him. "How come—’’
I stop because Jonah is exclaiming something in Hebrew. He’s reached into a pocket of his trousers to take out an old watch.
"Sorry, Alex, but I see I’m going to miss my plane if I don’t hurry,’’ he says.
He stands up and reaches for his coat.
"That’s too bad,’’ I say. "I’m kind of intrigued by a couple of things you’ve said.’’
Jonah pauses.
"Yes, well, if you could start to think about what we’ve been discussing, you probably could get your plant out of the trouble it’s in.’’
"Hey, maybe I gave you the wrong impression,’’ I tell him. "We’ve got a few problems, but I wouldn’t say the plant is in
trouble.’’
He looks me straight in the eye. He knows what’s going on, I’m thinking.
"But tell you what,’’ I hear myself saying, "I’ve got some time to kill. Why don’t I walk you down to your plane? Would you mind?’’
"No, not at all,’’ he says. "But we have to hurry.’’
I get up and grab my coat and briefcase. My drink is sitting there. I take a quick slurp off the top and abandon it. Jonah is already edging his way toward the door. He waits for me to catch up with him. Then the two of us step out into the corridor where people are rushing everywhere. Jonah sets off at a fast pace. It takes an effort to keep up with him.
"I’m curious,’’ I tell Jonah, "what made you suspect something might be wrong with my plant?’’
"You told me yourself,’’ Jonah says.
"No, I didn’t.’’
"Alex,’’ he says, "it was clear to me from your own words that you’re not running as efficient a plant as you think you are. You are running exactly the opposite. You are running a very
in
efficient plant.’’
"Not according to the measurements,’’ I tell him. "Are you trying to tell me my people are wrong in what they’re reporting . . . that they’re lying to me or something?’’
"No,’’ he says. "It is very unlikely your people are lying to you. But your measurements definitely are.’’
"Yeah, okay, sometimes we massage the numbers here and there. But everybody has to play that game.’’
"You’re missing the point,’’ he says. "You
think
you’re running an efficient plant... but your thinking is wrong.’’
"What’s wrong with my thinking? It’s no different from the thinking of most other managers.’’
"Yes, exactly,’’ says Jonah.
"What’s that supposed to mean?’’ I ask; I’m beginning to feel somewhat insulted by this.
"Alex, if you’re like nearly everybody else in this world, you’ve accepted so many things without question that you’re not really thinking at all,’’ says Jonah.
"Jonah, I’m thinking all the time,’’ I tell him. "That’s part of my job.’’
He shakes his head.
"Alex, tell me again why you believe your robots are such a great improvement.’’
"Because they increased productivity,’’ I say.
"And what is productivity?’’
I think for a minute, try to remember.
"According to the way my company is defining it,’’ I tell him, "there’s a formula you use, something about the value added per employee equals....’’
Jonah is shaking his head again.
"Regardless of how your company defines it, that is not what productivity really is,’’ he says. "Forget for just a minute about the formulas and all that, and just tell me in your own words, from your experience, what does it mean to be productive?’’
We rush around a corner. In front of us, I see, are the metal detectors and the security guards. I had intended to stop and say good-bye to him here, but Jonah doesn’t slow down.
"Just tell me, what does it mean to be productive?’’ he asks again as he walks through the metal detector. From the other side he talks to me. "To
you
personally, what does it mean?’’
I put my briefcase on the conveyor and follow him through. I’m wondering, what does he want to hear?
On the far side, I’m telling him, "Well, I guess it means that I’m accomplishing something.’’
"Exactly!’’ he says. "But you are accomplishing something in terms of what?’’
"In terms of goals,’’ I say.
"Correct!’’ says Jonah.
He reaches under his sweater into his shirt pocket and pulls out a cigar. He hands it to me.
"My compliments,’’ he says. "When you are productive you are accomplishing something in terms of your goal, right?’’
"Right,’’ I say as I retrieve my briefcase.
We’re rushing past gate after gate. I’m trying to match Jonah stride for stride.
And he’s saying, "Alex, I have come to the conclusion that productivity is the act of bringing a company closer to its goal. Every action that brings a company closer to its goal is productive. Every action that does not bring a company closer to its goal is not productive. Do you follow me?’’
"Yeah, but . . . really, Jonah, that’s just simple common sense,’’ I say to him.
"It’s simple logic is what it is,’’ he says.
We stop. I watch him hand his ticket across the counter.
"But it’s too simplified,’’ I tell him. "It doesn’t tell me anything. I mean, if I’m moving toward my goal I’m productive and if I’m not, then I’m not productive—so what?’’
"What I’m telling you is, productivity is meaningless unless you know what your goal is,’’ he says.
He takes his ticket and starts to walk toward the gate.
"Okay, then,’’ I say. "You can look at it this way. One of my company’s goals is to increase efficiencies. Therefore, whenever I increase efficiencies, I’m being productive. It’s logical.’’
Jonah stops dead. He turns to me.
"Do you know what your problem is?’’ he asks me.
"Sure,’’ I say. "I need better efficiencies.’’
"No, that is not your problem,’’ he says. "Your problem is you don’t know what the goal is. And, by the way, there is only one goal, no matter what the company.’’
That stumps me for a second. Jonah starts walking toward the gate again. It seems everyone else has now gone on board. Only the two of us are left in the waiting area. I keep after him.
"Wait a minute! What do you mean, I don’t know what the goal is? I know what the goal is,’’ I tell him.
By now, we’re at the door of the plane. Jonah turns to me. The stewardess inside the cabin is looking at us.
"Really? Then, tell me, what is the goal of your manufacturing organization?’’ he asks.
"The goal is to produce products as efficiently as we can,’’ I tell him.
"Wrong,’’ says Jonah. "That’s not it. What is the real goal?’’ I stare at him blankly.
The stewardess leans through the door.
"Are either of you going to board this aircraft?’’
Jonah says to her, "Just a second, please.’’ Then he turns to me. "Come on, Alex! Quickly! Tell me the real goal, if you know what it is.’’
"Power?’’ I suggest.
He looks surprised. "Well... not bad, Alex. But you don’t get power just by virtue of manufacturing something.’’
The stewardess is pissed off. "Sir, if you’re not getting on this aircraft, you have to go back to the terminal,’’ she says coldly.
Jonah ignores her. "Alex, you cannot understand the meaning of productivity unless you know what the goal is. Until then, you’re just playing a lot of games with numbers and words.’’
"Okay, then it’s market share,’’ I tell him. "That’s the goal.’’
"Is it?’’ he asks.
He steps into the plane.
"Hey! Can’t you tell me?’’ I call to him.
"Think about it, Alex. You can find the answer with your own mind,’’ he says.
He hands the stewardess his ticket, looks at me and waves good-bye. I raise my hand to wave back and discover I’m still holding the cigar he gave me. I put it in my suit jacket pocket. When I look up again, he’s gone. An impatient gate-agent appears and tells me flatly she is going to close the door.