Posts Tagged ‘Psychology’

Do you really care? The myth of the ethical consumer

Monday, March 15th, 2010

Professor Timothy M Devinney thinks the idea that people will change the world through what they buy, enabling companies to save the world through their actions, is hopelessly naïve. But that doesn’t mean corporations can’t view the world through ethical lenses. In fact, marketers and strategists need to know much more about their customers’ ethical preferences.

Katy Perry, singer of ‘I kissed a girl’, declares herself a ‘Red artist’. Georgio Armani, American Express, Starbucks, Apple, Dell – all these companies consider themselves to be ‘Red’, as do Converse, Bugaboo and Hallmark. They have pledged themselves to the Red initiative, spearheaded by U2’s Bono and politician Bobby Shriver. They have specified that 50 percent of the profits from designated ‘Red’ products and services will go towards buying and distributing antiretroviral medication to AIDS patients in Africa.

Since its inception in 2006, the Red initiative claims it has raised more than $140 million for its partner The Global Fund so that this fund, in turn, can provide medication to nearly 80,000 people in Ghana, Lesotho, Rwanda and Swaziland. As Katy Perry says: ‘It’s not just like they are coming to my concert: when they purchase a ticket, they are helping out someone across the world – someone who needs medication, who doesn’t have resources; someone to help in the fight against HIV and AIDS.’

Inspirational stuff.

With numbers like those, it would be churlish to argue that initiatives such as Red are not worthwhile. Yet such high-profile activities hide the fact that products with ethical or social dimensions have far more limited uptake than many executives and social activists might hope, leaving many in business expressing uncertainty, in private, about the financial efficacy of ethical consumerism and the role their customers play in sharing obligations to social ethics. Despite the hype it has generated, there is strong evidence to suggest that even Project Red hasn’t had the impact on consumers its partners had hoped for.

In fact, our research shows that the ideal of the ‘ethical consumer’ – that person who is guided in their purchasing decisions by broad ethical or moral concerns – is a myth. That doesn’t mean people aren’t influenced by issues other than price and product – they are. But we find that when you look carefully at people’s purchasing behaviour, it does not tally with what those who promote the idea of the ethical consumer would expect. All too often, survey radicals can turn into economic conservatives at the checkout.

Horses for courses

The ethical consumer, as an ideal, fails to match reality in a number of ways. When you examine how people purchase, you find that they do so in a much more utilitarian way than promoters of the idea of the ethical consumer claim. As our coffee-shop experiment shows (see Fair Trade Coffee, Sir, page 27) how ‘ethically’ people decide to consume is a socially determined factor, and a subsidiary one at that.

People may care about a variety of issues that form part of a broad ethical agenda: third-world debt, child labour, pollution, animal welfare and so on. But they tend to be hard-nosed when they trade these things off against matters that are more salient, immediate and mundane: children’s schooling, healthcare, their mortgage – even simply spending less time at the checkout counter.

The question, it seems, is a relative one: ‘How important are social issues when compared with other economic issues?’

Consumer social responsibility

These findings might tempt strategists to side with the financially driven sceptics. If ethical consumers are a myth, why cater to them – particularly if it is going to cost you money? It may be true that the ‘ethical consumer’ is a myth, but consumers are influenced nevertheless by their social concerns, in the same way that they are influenced by other aspects of the consumption landscape: price, branding, taste, positioning and the context within which consumption occurs. It’s just that you can’t rely on a simple conception of ‘ethicism’ in your marketing strategy.

Instead of conceptualising an ethical consumer, it may be more helpful to think about ‘consumer social responsibility’. This differs from the ‘ethical consumer’ construct because it recognises that consumers’ decisions are influenced by many factors and that the social component of a product is just one. What’s more, it doesn’t attribute a broad and generic ‘ethicism’ to individuals, who are likely to have far more subtle social preference delineations than we give them credit for.

Individuals reveal their social preferences through their patterns of consumption; in fact, it would be almost impossible for them not to do so, since social preferences are an inherent aspect of consumerism.

But you can not determine from their consumption patterns whether or not someone is ‘ethical’.

One person may reveal that he cares deeply about animal rights but is indifferent to the ‘right-to-life’ cause. Another may be a passionate right-to-lifer but have no position on the destruction of the Amazon rainforest. Which of these people is ‘ethical’? Both, surely.

People actively decide the extent to which they will support one social cause over another, and these decisions are reflected in their consumption behaviour. But you can’t use these decisions to predict from one social category to another. Ethicism is not generic.

Nor are people’s ethical concerns strongly influenced by their cultural heritage. Europeans do not appear to be significantly more socially aware than Americans. Consumers from developing countries seem to be no less concerned about environmental issues than those hailing from richer countries.

The reality is more complex than that: our research shows that the rationalisation of behaviour and a person’s understanding of the idea of ‘ethical consumerism’ are culturally informed – but behaviour is remarkably similar.

Ethics is a much more granular subject than the proponents of the ethical consumer would have us believe. It does a disservice to the human race to categorise some aspects of consumption as ethical or unethical.

Instead, it’s better to think about individuals revealing their social preferences through their behaviour. In turn, these preferences are useful in understanding how marketers can influence behaviour.

The socially responsible corporation

Understanding that social ethics is a complex and relative concept that differs markedly among individuals and communities sheds much light on the idea of the sociallyresponsible corporation. Many commentators have promoted the idea that companies can ‘do well by doing good’.

But if we understand that ethics are a complex and individually determined phenomenon, we realise that the idea that corporations can determine what is ‘good’ is naïve.

In fact, taking this argument to its logical conclusion reveals that handing over social policy decisions to corporations would lead to what most would consider to be an unacceptable loss of democratic rights.

To see why, it’s only necessary to take a walk down my street. I have neighbours who were born in China, Korea, India, Syria, Japan, the Netherlands, Croatia and 10 or so other countries. The local election ballot has to be printed in more than 20 languages. Yet, in the same street where several wives were imported for arranged marriages lives a lesbian couple and a dozen individuals cohabiting in de facto relationships, some with ‘illegitimate’ children.

Would corporate policies and choices that appeal to one of these families be likely to appeal to all? Certainly not. Any attempt to do well by doing good among my neighbours would get bogged down immediately in an energetic debate about what was and wasn’t ‘good’.

Corporations, by their very nature, have conflicting virtues and vices that ensure they will never truly be socially responsible, even by the broadest of definitions.

Would you want Walmart running society? The answer is, ‘Probably not’, for two reasons: firstly, because you can’t guarantee that what Walmart decides to do for society will in any way match your conception of a social good; and secondly, because there is a strong likelihood that instead of the corporation being forced to act in ways society deems ‘good’ (even if we could define such an idea), society will be forced to act in a way the corporation thinks is good. What’s more, you can’t vote Walmart out of office – there is no governance mechanism limiting the actions of a corporation in the way there is around a democratically elected government.

As Elizabeth Taylor said:

‘The problem with people who have no vices is that generally, you can be pretty sure they’re going to have some pretty annoying virtues.’

Social marketing

From an overall strategic perspective, it is important for corporations to understand that there are social responsibilities within all aspects of their businesses – whatever that means for the societies in which they are operating. Better companies work to enable these responsibilities to be fulfilled, however they arise (not simply through giving to select charities or enabling particular programs favoured by the CEO).

Corporate social responsibility, as it is traditionally defined, implies that there is a responsibility at the level of the corporation as a whole. But the company is not a being; it is simply an entity that allows humans to interact. It is the humans who have social preferences and responsibilities – as individual customers, workers, owners, investors and executives. Companies that put out glossy brochures proclaiming their extensive environmental, social or ethical activities are not being socially responsible – they are engaging in public relations.

More important is understanding the social links that exist across the corporation, understanding their interplay, and being able to understand and act upon the opportunities that arise from them.

This means enabling workers to have fulfilling lives and time with their families, customers to contribute to a variety of social causes through their consumption decisions, executives to create value for shareholders and investors to contribute to economic growth. The most ethical companies enable all of these and more, in concert, and profit over the long term as a result.

Fair trade coffee, sir?

One experiment we undertook in investigating whether or not the ethical consumer exists took place at a coffee shop in central Sydney over a period of several weeks.

This coffee shop displayed a large and prominent sign indicating the products available, their prices and active specials. To this we added, quite obtrusively, another special, indicating: We have Fair Trade coffee! No extra charge. Just ask.

Unprompted, with only the sign to notify them of the availability of the ‘ethical’ alternative, less than one percent of customers bothered to ask for Fair Trade coffee, even though it was free.

When we opted for the McDonald’s strategy – prompting customers with a reminder that the ‘ethical’ alternative was available – the number of customers opting for the Fair Trade option rose to 30 percent.

We then went a step further and took the customer’s privacy away: each time the clerk prompted a customer with the Fair Trade option, we ensured there was someone standing next to that person at the counter. In this situation, the number of ‘ethical consumers’ rose to 70 percent.

Throughout the experiment, we gave different coloured cups to customers who indicated that they wanted the Fair Trade product. We then questioned those remaining in the coffee shop about the meaning of fair trade and what they thought they were doing by purchasing, or not purchasing, Fair Trade coffee. On the whole, we received informed and insightful answers: customers talked about fair trade; they talked about the conditions of Guatemalan farmers; they could cite many reasons why they had opted for Fair Trade coffee.

None of this meant anything, however. When a customer chose the Fair Trade alternative, his or her decision was based entirely on the context we had created; it had nothing to do with that person’s values or preferences.

What this reveals is the degree to which ethical consumerism, like all consumerism, is strongly determined by the social context in which it is served up: something the marketers behind the Red campaign, and Katy Perry, are likely to have taken into account.

Timothy M Devinney is a Professor of Strategy at UTS Business. His research interests include international business, corporate and social responsibility and social consumerism, corporate strategy and technology/knowledge management. He has also published a number of papers regarding ethics and the role of ethics in consumers’ lives.

Timothy M Devinney’s latest book, The Myth of the Ethical Consumer, is available from Cambridge University Press.

The consulting club: How to get in, and do a good job

Friday, February 12th, 2010

At its core, management consulting is about two things: people and people. Of course consultants need to have brilliant technical skills, problem solving capabilities and business nous, but you can have all that and still be a lousy consultant if you don’t understand your clients as people: their motivations and frustrations, and how the world looks from their perspective.

In this series of podcasts, Business21C presents the insights of a group of seriously experienced consultants talking about the business of consulting, its challenges and rewards.

Francoise Michel: Francoise Michel has one important piece of advice for graduates looking to venture into consulting: if you don’t have a passion for solving problems, don’t apply. In this podcast she discusses the interview techniques many graduates face and the rigor that is required if applicants are lucky enough to be selected. Through discussions on cases and interview preparation, Francoise Michel gives valuable insights to anyone interested in the world of consulting.

Francoise Michel is a former consultant from Bain and Co. She now owns and operates her own business, Francoise Michel Executive, which aims to develop and coach graduates for roles in consulting.

Andrew Price: As a consultant to major financial firms, Andrew Price has seen dramatic change over the last six months. While the global financial crisis may have impacted many consulting services, business is steadily improving. The big four banks are now spending huge amounts on consultants to assist them in overhauling their 25 year old systems. In this podcast Andrew Price also addresses the idea that good regulation saved Australia from the brunt of the GFC, saying that, although it helped, Australia’s position as a capital constrained economy was the primary factor in the avoiding the worst.

Andrew Price is a partner at Ernst & Young and currently is the head of Financial Services.

Ian Douglas: Ian Douglas believes that the airline industry is in seriously bad shape. Drawing comparisons to a prior experience with a Californian media business, Ian reports that poor managerial decisions and a lack of retained earnings stemming from cost cutting have led to precarious and ultra-competitive industry between airlines.

Ian Douglas is currently a consultant & senior lecturer in Aviation Strategy at UNSW.

Natalia Nikolova: Natalia Nikolova believes that there are many times where the relationship between consultant and client can become very complex. Often consulting tasks may be simple and require the consultant to apply tools and methodologies that have worked before. But it can become complex when the client’s problem requires a new tools and vastly different solutions. As she reveals in this podcast, the junction of consulting expectations and resource/participation from the client present a complicated area of differing outcomes.

Natalia Nikolova is a researcher and lecturer in Management at UTS Business School.

Doug Davis: Doug Davis believes that there is a key area of consulting that is almost never discussed – the psychological contract. He argues that for consultants to truly be successful, they need to understand the psychodynamics of their client and determine the unwritten expectations. It could be anything from extra advisory work to the client using consultants to advance a hidden management agenda. In this podcast Doug Davis discusses these aspects of psychological expectations, and why it is necessary to probe why the client really wants a consultant.

Doug Davis is currently a senior lecturer in Management at UTS Business School.

Sales and the importance of prospect research

Friday, February 5th, 2010

The key to successful sales is knowing what your client wants. Simon Harrop explains that the better prepared you are, the more likely a new customer will open up to you.

‘I can’t believe the client said no’, the salesperson grumbled. ‘It was the perfect solution for their business and I gave them a really good deal.’ He explained that he had really pushed for the business and couldn’t understand why the client was not interested. In our debrief I asked him, ‘How much do you really know about this client?’

When I started in sales over twenty years ago, there was a big push for US style training programs that were all about forcing the meeting, pushing the features and benefits, and then trying to trick the customer into saying yes. After that you needed some clever objection-handling techniques so you could ‘crunch the deal’.

I felt pretty uncomfortable with this approach and did not use it. Instead I watched and listened to my colleagues, and noticed that some were getting lots of business while others struggled.

At first I didn’t know why, but I was fortunate in that I had a great sales manager. He showed me how important it was to understand a client and their market so you could talk their language. With hotels it was the language of occupancy and service; with restaurants it was covers, service and up-selling; and for manufacturers it was reducing production downtime while maintaining quality.

The light bulb glowed as I finally got it. Before you can find a solution, you have to understand your client, their business environment and what is important to them. Otherwise, whatever you have to offer might be either unnecessary or too expensive.

But how to do it? I started asking for copies of annual reports in client receptions and reading the industry magazines they had around. It took a little more effort but it paid off.

Personality, persistence and planning: The Harrop three Ps

Most salespeople get into sales based the first two Ps: Their personality attracts them to the profession; and they are successful because they are persistent. But the best salespeople do something more.

In my experience, the top ten percent of salespeople are also excellent at the third P: planning. They plan their meetings so they are clear in advance about what they want to achieve. Part of this planning is researching the client and their market.

A client once told me their most hated question from a salesperson: ‘So how’s business?’ He expected, quite rightly, that the salesperson should know how their business is going. It’s the salesperson’s job to bring them something that they do not know, or add something valuable to their business.

Today we have some great tools to help us research. Technology gives us access to so much information about a client, and much of it can be accessed on the move thanks to smart phones and mobile devices. You can research using:

  • your internal databases and Customer Relationship Management (CRM) systems;
  • search engines such as Google or Bing;
  • LinkedIn;
  • Facebook;
  • Twitter;
  • clients’ websites;
  • competitors’ websites; and
  • industry websites and publications.

Using these tools, we can not only find out about the prospect company and the industry, we can also build a profile of our contact. This gives us a base to start a business relationship and help us truly understand our clients. Clients expect it – and they’ve probably looked you up as well.

Of course you need to be able to use this information along with great questions to understand the business problem, but that’s another challenge. Planning is the key: the better prepared you are, the more chance a customer will open up to you.

Back to our salesperson from earlier. It turned out that he hadn’t done any research on the prospective client apart from their name and address. Not even a quick look at the website. He had been given a lead and made assumptions about what the client needed, and thus missed an opportunity to do business.

Since then he’s started doing research, and now he gets much better results.

Do you believe? Spirituality in the workplace

Friday, January 29th, 2010

Although most Australians profess some form of religious faith, spirituality is largely a taboo topic in the workplace. But if our personal beliefs are so important, asks David Bubna-Litic, why do we keep them separate from what happens at work?

In the 2006 Australian census, more than 70 percent of respondents reported having some form of religious belief: the majority (63.9 percent) affiliated themselves with forms of Christianity and about six percent, with non-Christian faiths such as Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam or Judaism. Some 18.7 percent reported having no religious affiliation, leaving the vast majority of Australians as adhering to some form of spiritual belief. Yet in most workplaces, spirituality is a no-go area.

Many academics are breaking the silence around this topic – not because we want to revive old ways of thinking but out of a desire to engage with the lived experience of the community; to find new ways of thinking about old questions. Many people report private experiences of sacredness or the sublime but rarely do we find these experiences examined in academic journals outside of religious studies areas, or applied to how people behave in the workplace.

Mainstream management thought has long dismissed any interest in spirituality, primarily because it is regarded as unscientific but also because there is a fear that religious beliefs can result in overly zealous opinions and might suffocate productive discourse. Arguably, the current form of market capitalism has premises that are incompatible with those of many religions. Modern management has incorporated a scientific worldview that dispenses with ‘magical thinking’ and religious superstition. Religion and spirituality are seen as antithetical to good management.

This ‘modern’ perspective is supported by a stream of thinkers who have depicted religion in pathological terms. Freud saw religion as a neurotic symptom; Marx saw it as ‘the opiate of the masses’ and, more recently, Richard Dawkins has written about ‘the god delusion’. Principles of rational management promote reward for merit rather than personal or religious loyalties and, as a consequence, organisations have sought to remove any vestige of religion from the workplace. The current conversation about spirituality is an attempt, however, to separate the baby from the bathwater by seeking new understandings that can be integrated with contemporary thinking.

Now secularism has become an established part of the culture of global capitalism, there is a growing sense that something is missing from corporate life. That having purged organisations of any form of spiritual or religious expression, offices seem soulless; shopping malls lack a sense of real connection to people. Store windows often point to what inspires us – but ‘shopping-mall Zen’ is only an appropriation of Zen images. Little in organisational life – whether commercial, public or not-for-profit – engages with anything other than mundane work or consumption.

Contemporary critiques present formidable challenges to the assumptions of mainstream religions, but they do little to shake interest in spiritual questions. Religious membership around the world seems hardly dented, indeed, amazon.co.uk reported that its sales of bibles went up 120 percent when The God Delusion was on the bestseller lists.

In Australia, while interest in Christianity is on the wane and the number of non-believers is rising, overall interest in religion (particularly non-Western religion) remains highly resilient. This reflects a shift to a much more dynamic and labile set of viewpoints, far more robust than the straw dogs Dawkins thinks he has collared.

These attacks fail to recognise that religion (like science) doesn’t have to be a fixed view. No matter how successfully critics expose the answers that religions provide, they will have little or no impact if they don’t touch on the core questions that draw people to religion in the first place.

Recent academic interest in spirituality attempts to move beyond black-and-white, scientific or unscientific distinctions; it seeks to open up a new dialogue in which these horizons merge.

The core questions

The core questions that draw people to religion are mostly existential: ‘What does it all mean?’, for instance, and ‘What is a good life?’ Answers given by science often fall short. Contemporary writers on spirituality are re-examining such questions in light of a mature understanding of the limits of rationality. After all, what comfort does science offer parents whose child has died tragically, or to the executive who finds at the peak of her career that she has terminal cancer? Science has very little to say about our lived experience of the world.

Advocates of a contemporary expression of spirituality argue that the personal and work spheres interpenetrate each other. They say we need to work towards a coherent integration of the instrumental/technical dimensions and the moral dimensions of social life.

In his book, The Heart Aroused: Poetry and the Preservation of the Soul in Corporate America, poet and consultant David Whyte says work is not just something we have to do: it is ‘a great pilgrimage of identity by which we discover larger and larger perspective on our self and the world we inhabit’.

The larger context for the current conversation is that writers and thinkers have long raised questions about the impact of corporations on quality of life. Certainly, things have improved since William Blake wrote of the ‘dark satanic mills’ of the industrial revolution – however, the sense of optimism about modernity that prevailed through much of the 20th century has become a jaded sense of pessimism; there is a deepening suspicion that modernity’s promise to liberate us all from suffering through technological advances appears to be an ever-receding horizon. Despite our apparent progress, we seem to be no happier than our ancestors were.

The failed promises of modernity

The present century contrasts with the last in that we now temper our commitment to technology with insights into its limits. Technological progress has created a consumer culture that brings only fleeting satisfaction at the cost of terrifying risks. The consensus of scientists is that we now face an unprecedented ecological crisis – we are outrunning the ability of the planet to sustain our collective lifestyle.

Science has not dispelled our ignorance. Its reward has been to reveal an even stranger universe, in which old assumptions unravel and even greater mysteries replace them. The result is not the promised certainty but continued insecurity – and perhaps even an increase in anxiety.

Compounding these uncertainties, the pace of change continually overturns the everyday routines that give us a sense of psychological security. It becomes increasingly difficult to maintain a strong sense of identity and the question surfaces: ‘Is there more to life than this?’

The emerging spirituality emphasises the wholeness of our experience. It recognises that it is unhealthy to quarantine off parts of our lives.

Opening to a new horizon of spirituality

The key message of the new perspective on spirituality is that we might find new ways of being that acknowledge existential questions in the midst of our working lives. Workplace spirituality can enable individuals to explore healthier relationships with work and each other.

If there is criticism that this concept of spirituality is ill defined, then it is better to think of it not as a (religious) dogma but as an open field of inquiry, a space inhabited by a variety of voices and perceptions.

The idea that the worlds of work and spirituality interpenetrate leads to the central ethical question: ‘What is it good to be?’ This ethos has deep implications for how we live, work and organise.

Some writers have expressed the potential for spirituality in organisations in performative terms. In A Spiritual Audit of Corporate America, Ian Mitroff and Elizabeth Denton believe organisations ‘must harness the immense spiritual energy within each person in order to produce world-class products and services’. A conviction about the worth and rightness of a cause does move people to action and excellence comes out of passionate enthusiasm, but to stop there would be to miss the point.

Corporate social responsibility ventures beyond economic profitability into the realm of how organisations should act within society and the physical environment. It rejects the disconnected denial of responsibility that was promoted by Milton Friedman: ‘there is one and only one social responsibility of business … to increase its profits’. People are recognising that this stance is, in reality, an ideology.

Corporate social responsibility observes that every economic system relies on a web of human relationships and on our trust in the integrity of the other players. Corporations operate in complex environments, in which there are multiple linkages among players that affect value creation and thus, profit. This relational view recognises the complexity of the system and how symbolic dimensions touch us, often in ways of which we are hardly conscious. Profitability cannot be separated from notions of reputation and identity – and is not the only measure of value.

Managers who attempt to maintain the myths of objectivity and rational decision making fail to see that this kind of thinking is one-dimensional. Adopting a mature perspective means understanding that organisational outcomes emerge out of the dynamic interplay of complex and interdependent systems. From the social responsibility perspective, the interests of shareholders cannot be neatly divided from those of other stakeholders.

As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn said in The Gulag Archipelago, ‘If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?’

Accepting this view means recognising that spirituality interpenetrates the worlds of the individual, society and the corporation. Each stakeholder must take responsibility for the creation of workplaces in which human interactions are largely transactional, and ask if this is where we should be spending the greater part of our lives.

Meeting the new horizon

Management thinkers must look beyond rational strategising to grapple with new frames of reference. Leaders have to address questions of interiority, identity and values. And, with the realisation that we are experiencing an ecological crisis, business needs to make choices that will lead us towards a sustainable future.

In the broadest sense, this is a spiritual question, and traditional corporate attitudes towards such questions need to be re-examined. With the globalisation of the world, we can now draw on the wisdom of many spiritual traditions – not just Western ideas. A common wisdom is to have humility in the face of the mystery of life, and to acknowledge our interconnection with everything in the universe. Technology has merely extended our shoreline of knowledge; it has not drained the ocean of things we do not understand.

Critical to many spiritual traditions is the necessity of living authentically, where this denotes honesty, mindful awareness and openness to experiencing life as it is. By engaging fully with our work lives, we may be less open to submitting to impoverished relationships and dysfunctional interactions. For management education, this suggests a new set of skills and a need to expand the focus of most programs of learning.

A spiritually inspired workplace can be extraordinarily productive. Most people can think of a restaurant that they love to visit. Even if its prices are higher or the food is not exceptional, it has something else, something that people recognise instinctively. It might be the mindful attention to detail, the loving care than goes into every aspect of food preparation, the warm greeting or the way the staff work together, but there is something about the experience that is of a higher order. It transcends market ideologies and has a selfless dimension. The work is being done because the staff love being there, have real friendships and love what they do.

Combining social responsibility and spirituality extends the horizon of corporate responsibility beyond what is good for the organisation to a wider view that goes beyond the interests of individuals. This does not fit easily within existing empirical frameworks. Frequently, managers are faced with the problem of how to reconcile their actions in the service of the organisation with a wider responsibility to society, to the environment or to their own integrity. Management education does little to equip managers to resolve such tensions. But we are living at a time when an awareness of the full scope of our spirituality, and its responsibilities, is necessary if we are to have a sustainable future.

Dr David Bubna-Litic is senior lecturer in Strategic Management at UTS Business. This article is condensed from the introduction to Spirituality and Corporate Social Responsibility (Gower, 2009), of which he is the editor.

Reality bites: Learning about management from popular culture

Friday, January 29th, 2010

Charles Bukowski, Bruce Springsteen, David Brent and Homer Simpson all talk to the world of work, but their stories are nothing like the ones you’ll find in a popular management book. As Professor Carl Rhodes reports, we can learn a lot about management from popular culture.

If we want to learn about the meaning of work and its management, popular culture is an excellent source of education, and one that tells a very different story to what we read in an MBA textbook or a popular management book, or hear in a leadership training course.

In 1975, American poet Charles Bukowski wrote in Factotum:

I’d get an idea. I’d spring a loan. I’d hire and fire. I’d keep whiskey in my desk drawer. I’d have a wife with size 40 breasts and an ass that would make the paperboy on the corner come in his pants when he saw it wobble. I’d cheat on her and she’d know it and keep silent in order to live in my house with my wealth. I’d fire men just to see the look on their face. I’d fire women who didn’t deserve to be fired […] I’d build an empire upon the broken bodies and lives of helpless men, women and children – I’d shove it to them all the way. I’d show them!’

Factotum is a semi-autobiographical novel about a man who wanders across the US from town to town, job to dead-end job, bar to bar. In it, Bukowski used his poet’s sensibility to paint an extreme picture of what working life means for so many people.

At this point in the novel, Hank Chinaski, the main character, is fantasising about what it might be like to be one of the bosses for whom he works. For Chinaski, managerial ambition is about sex and power – about an aggressive masculinity that wants to dominate others in the pursuit of its own goals. Chinaski has no such ambition: for him, a job is just a means to an end.

It is a potent example of how fiction can present an alternative view of the world of work, and, like much of Bukowski’s writing, it’s about the meaninglessness of work and about alienation from it. It is a book about how ‘the job’ demands everything and repays little.

Elsewhere. Bukowski writes:

How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6.30am by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?’

Although Factotum makes for great reading, its picture of working life is not unique. Ever since Charles Dickens started writing about London’s poor, factories, offices, hospitals, law courts, police stations and a myriad other workplaces have featured heavily in popular culture. As far back as 1855, Elizabeth Gaskell was writing about industrial hardship and conflict in North and South and, in 1917, Sinclair Lewis wrote about the challenges faced by working women in The Job. There’s bureaucracy in Franz Kafka’s The Trial, factory work in Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle and excess in Martin Amis’ Money.

But what are all of these things telling us about work, organisations and management? Is it all as desperate as Bukowski would have us believe?

Truth in fiction

Anthropologist Clifford Geertz claimed that a people’s culture is made up of the stories they tell themselves about themselves. So when we turn on our televisions or go to the movies or listen to the radio, the stories we hear both reflect and help to create the culture in which we live.

We laugh at Homer Simpson and C Montgomery Burns in The Simpsons, and at David Brent in The Office, because we see our own lives reflected in their stories. When Homer receives the ‘First Annual Montgomery Burns Award for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence’, we recognise the hollowness of so many workplace programs designed to reward achievement. When David Brent spouts maxims such as: ‘Trust people and they’ll be true to you. Treat them greatly and they will show themselves to be great’, we cringe because we’ve all heard these empty platitudes before in the workplace.

Popular music – and rock, in particular – has long been built on a spirit of resistance and rebellion. You might sing along to Roy Orbison’s ‘Workin’ for the Man’ or The Easybeats rocking through ‘Friday on my Mind’. Chuck Berry sang about a poor boy dreaming of the ‘Promised Land’, escaping to California to work in one of the defence-related industries that were pulling in labour in the postwar boom economy of the 1950s.

In the 1960s, The Animals screamed ‘We Gotta Get out of this Place’ – a song that celebrated escaping the hardworking lives of those of previous generations, who had toiled in low-income, back-breaking jobs. Cilla Black sang ‘Work is a Four-Letter Word’. Bruce Springsteen affirmed in 1978’s Darkness on the Edge of Town that he still believed in the ‘Promised Land’, despite work making him feel so weak that he wanted to explode.

It’s all there, whatever your taste – Johnny Paycheck’s ‘Take this Job and Shove it’, Donna Summer’s ‘She Works Hard for the Money’, Dolly Parton’s ‘9 to 5’, The Smiths’ ‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’, Fountains of Wayne’s ‘Bright Future in Sales’, or The Ramones’ ‘It’s Not My Place (In the 9 to 5 World)’. Popular musicians seem to know that the promises of work are hard to keep.

But there is one thing you will never find in popular culture: though work is everywhere in films, books and music, and on television, the organisation is never represented as an entirely positive or meaningful thing. Hit movies American Beauty, Disclosure, Fight Club, The Devil Wears Prada and Glengarry Glen Ross all suggest that people have dark and complex relationships with their work. Popular culture does not tend to play out the ambivalence, contradictions and moral dilemmas we experience as part of work, however. Instead, it tells us the stories that make up our working culture – not the imagined culture of ‘corporate values’ or ‘vision statements’ but the culture of real life on the shop floor and around the water cooler.

Utopian fantasy

Next time you are cruising the corridors of the corporation, take a look at the books on the shelves in managers’ offices. You’ll notice two things. Firstly, they are generally unread. Seldom do you see crease-lines on the spines and dog-eared page corners indicating frequent use and hours of late-night reading. Secondly, more often than not, they are management bestsellers of the type found in airport bookshops, such as Jim Collins and Jerry Porras’ Built to Last, Tom Peters and Robert Waterman’s In Search of Excellence, Michael Hammer and James Champy’s Reengineering the Corporation and Stephen Covey’s 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.

While popular culture is telling us stories about the difficult and ironic relationships people have with work and management, these books tell quite a different story. Most management bestsellers contain a highly utopian vision of what organisations can or should be like. The management gurus assure that if you follow their advice, your organisation can be an idyllic dreamland in which heroic managers lead entrepreneurial and motivated employees towards a shared vision.

For the vast majority of people, however, this is far from reality – not just because work can be difficult but because these books are works of fantasy. Read one and you will be told that with the right practices, habits, characteristics and attributes in place, yours, too, can be a corporation of prosperity and longevity. In these books, the real organisation – the one you go to each day – is always considered inferior to the ideal organisation it could be.

But as Bob Dylan sang in 1965:

Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done,
That can win what’s never been won,
Meantime, life outside goes on
All around you.

So much of what passes for management knowledge is just like those signs. Reality is deprived of importance – better to live in the dream of an impossible utopia. But it doesn’t seem to work: life goes on all around you; your organisation goes on all around you.

Every year, more and more ‘popular management’ books are published, each author promising to solve your problems if you just do what he or she tells you to do. But they rarely offer the solution to the problems – there is always another book chasing the market for unhappy managers. The promise of an answer eases anxiety in the short term but it is unlikely to deliver. At best, stressed-out managers might get some temporary relief from the burden of their pressures. The guru on the hill promises that you can slay your dragons but the sword is made of paper; it blows away in the wind. As that other prophet of the proletariat, Bruce Springsteen, once sang: ‘Is a dream a lie that don’t come true, or is it something worse?’

Popular culture offers a superior basis upon which to learn about the meaning and practice of work and management than does the vapid utopianism of ‘popular management’ books. Even though the stories told through popular media channels are, for the most part, fictional, they do a much better job of tuning in to the realities of work than do the idle imaginings of the management gurus. I would go so far as to say that many fictional representations of work in popular culture are more realistic than the utopian representations in popular management books. They may not always make you feel better but they don’t tell as many lies.

If you really want to learn about management, don’t head off to the management section of the airport bookshop. Better to turn on the TV or radio, go to the movies or read a novel. There you will find out what is really going on, with no false promises.

CLASSIC PICKS FROM POPULAR CULTURE ABOUT WORK AND ORGANISATIONS

Movies

  • Factotum (2005), starring Matt Dillon
  • Office Space (1999), starring Ron Livingston
  • Wall Street (1987), starring Michael Douglas
  • Disclosure (1994), starring Demi Moore
  • Clerks (1994), starring Brian O’Halloran

Television

  • The Simpsons (1989-)
  • The Office (2001-2003)
  • The Bill (1984-)
  • The Wire (2002-2008)
  • Dilbert (1999-2000) – see also the comic strip!

Songs

  • Workin’ for the Man’ by Roy Orbison (1962)
  • Factory’ by Bruce Springsteen (1978)
  • Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman (1988)
  • Career Opportunities’ by The Clash (1977)
  • Friday on my Mind’ by The Easybeats (1967)

Novels and books

  • Post Office by Charles Bukowksi (1971)
  • The Trial by Franz Kafka (1925)
  • The Jungle by Upton Sinclair (1906)
  • Money by Martin Amis (1984)
  • Working by Studs Terkel (1974)

Soft systems thinking: A more holistic approach to project management

Monday, January 25th, 2010

Projects are not ‘business as usual’, so it makes sense to take a different approach to project management. Associate Professor Shankar Sankaran and Dr Chris Stevens explain how project leaders can benefit from soft systems thinking.

Consider this analogy: A project in an organisation is a bit like a relationship. Until the wedding day there are clearly defined start and end points, but after that, the marriage going forward is business as usual.

Just as there are different stages in a developing relationship, organisational projects, by their temporary nature, are not ‘business as usual’. So it makes sense for project leaders to take a different approach to management.

Project management theory had its origins in ‘hard systems’ thinking in the defence and construction industries. With a building or an airplane, it’s possible to identify the components, tasks, milestones and outcomes to achieve to complete the project.

Hard systems thinking breaks down a problem into quantifiable parts and analyses each component in the context of its relationships to other parts. But the more complex a project – and the more human variables involved – the more challenging it becomes to manage.

In the 1960s, ‘soft systems’ thinking (SSM) took a different approach. Originated with research by Professor Peter Checkland and others at Lancaster University, in the United Kingdom, it concentrated more on what people do in systems, and how to help them do their best. Soft systems thinking was better for understanding the less tangible elements of problem situations – things like human motivation and interaction.

Recent bodies of knowledge in project management stress the importance of functions like leadership, commitment, mentoring, decision making, monitoring, alignment and prioritisation. Using soft systems thinking, leaders are better able to address the political and cultural issues that affect their projects.

Today, most projects happen in large organisations with established control structures in place. But because projects are temporary, the normal – ‘business as usual’ – structures are not always the most appropriate way to manage them.

The ability to manage the unexpected and to change direction is important in the type of applications that project managers are involved in today in industries like software or finance. Where a building plan isn’t likely to change halfway through, a software application, for example, can be continually developed as conditions change. In a dynamic situation like this, effective project governance is the key to success.

Many project managers intuitively consider themselves as coordinators of resources – rather than controllers. They coordinate holistically, and they concentrate on governance rather than control. Understanding the difference between management and governance is crucial.

Effective project governance ensures that an organisation’s project portfolio is aligned to the organisation’’s objectives, is delivered efficiently and is sustainable. It also ensures that the board and other stakeholders are provided with timely, relevant and reliable information.

Systems thinking tells us that in a project, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. But soft systems thinking goes further: as in a relationship, it is the bits in between – the unquantifiable human elements – that influence the failure or success.

This is an edited transcript from a seminar, ‘A Holistic Overview of Portfolio, Program and Project Management Governance’ given at the Centre for Management and Organisation Studies at UTS:Business on 30 September 2009.