12. Community

Within a week of the warehouse session, Alex had three encounters that let him know things would never be the same at Beckley Medical. The first was with Matt Joachim, who called very early in the morning while Alex planned and pondered at his desk.

“Could I catch you before the staff meeting, Alex? I see you are scheduled pretty tight today, and I’ve got something I think you will want to hear.”

“Sure, come on over.”

“I’m here already,” Matt said, literally finishing his sentence as he walked into Alex’s office and plopped down on the couch.

“What’s the good word?” Alex prompted.

“The word is community,”

Matt replied with a quickness that surprised Alex.

“Okay, go on, Matt. What’s the story behind the word?”

Matt framed an imaginary picture with his hands, like a movie director. “I’ve been seeing something odd in the lunchroom. I eat there every day, and I noticed there was, well, something different after the warehouse session. It took me a few days, but then I suddenly got it.”

“Got what?” Alex asked.

“The cliques are breaking down. For years, I’ve noticed how employees eat together and stick together in their cliques, their clans, and their clubs. But something else is happening now. Our employees are mixing across the clans and the clubs, and the noise level in the lunchroom is higher than ever. So like any good HR type, I decided to investigate. Every day at lunch, I moved my tray around and listened in on the conversations.”

“What did you learn?” Alex asked, his curiosity growing.

“People are talking about opportunities—opportunities to do good things in the company that can happen only with fuller cooperation from other clans and teams. So they are reaching out to both get and give help. We are becoming a community.” Matt leaned forward and interlaced his fingers in front of him to demonstrate. “We are weaving together in a good way. You know, Alex, as your HR guy, I’ve been all about defining our competencies and building our culture.”

“That’s good,” Alex encouraged, sensing that his friend was in a confessional mood.

“Good, you bet. But I was missing the key right in front of me. Genuine community connects competency and culture.” He drew it on Alex’s office whiteboard.

“Community, catalyzed by the shared goal achievement discussions we’re having, is actually putting individual competencies to work. And the work itself that’s happening across functions, the giving and getting of help, is literally building the high-performance culture we have been hoping to create.” Alex looked down at Matt’s doodle.

“Do you mind if I keep this, Matt? I’d like to help you with this.”

“I hoped that you would say that, Alex. By the way, you should see the lunchroom for yourself.”

So at lunch, Alex went to see community in action. Just as described, animated, cross-clan discussions were everywhere. One group was eating while gathered around a product prototype. Alex recognized a couple of customers sitting at another lunchroom table, joining another product discussion.

Alex watched. He didn’t want to intrude, and yet he wanted to help. I guess I’ve tried to be the hero out in front, but perhaps I should be joining with them, to serve them—a serving leader. He opened his brown-bag lunch and pulled out a sandwich. There on top was a handwritten note from Rachel.

Daddy,

I am happy that we are giving each other
second chances. I need you, Dad.

Love you,
Rachel

Alex put the note back in his bag and lowered his head so that no one would see the emotion on his face. When he recovered, he scanned the room again. His eyes fell on a far corner, where Nate Strayer was having lunch with his controller and several other colleagues. This tight knot of managers stood out from the rest of the groups in the lunchroom.

If Alex could have listened in on this group, he would have heard a very interesting conversation.

Mike Miller, the company controller, was pushing back on his boss. “I hear what you’re asking me to do, Nate. You know that I’ve spent a lot of energy in the last few weeks trying to manage the chaos. People are indeed overstepping the previous boundaries.” He looked around the lunchroom. “They’re running multiple budgets together, stopping and starting projects. But I have to say I think, on the whole, this is a good thing. This is why I got into finance in the first place. I wanted to help people shift gears, stop what’s not working, and shift resources into the best opportunities. I don’t just want to control; I want to collaborate.”

Nate interrupted, pointing his finger forcefully at his subordinate. “You are a controller, for goodness’ sake, Mike. You’re not helping us; you’re joining them.” He slammed his glass on the table with enough force to nearly break it. Heads turned.

Mike said evenly, “This is not about us and them, Nate; this is about all of us.”

As Nate’s lunch mates finished and dispersed, Alex wheeled over to Nate. “Okay, my friend, let’s get back to what’s bothering you. Why does it seem like you want to jump out of your skin lately?”

Nate’s response was calm, but he was clearly frustrated. “I just don’t see this greater good—Greater Goal stuff. It’s not realistic. I thought you and I agreed on process a long time ago. I thought that’s why you brought me here. I want success for the company like you do. And I also want to get what I need for me and mine. I may not be high-minded, but at least I’m honest.”

Alex drew a deep breath. “Can you honestly say you can’t see the value of reaching for more for others?”

“Leave that to the Nelson Mandelas of the world. Shouldn’t we be focused on keeping this company on track? How about just looking after our business so that the people here keep their jobs? Plus, what about our end game? I thought we agreed that when the time is right, we want this company to be an attractive acquisition.”

“Nate, I’m not saying we shouldn’t want to be known for high performance. But how we get there matters. And to what end? I’m thinking about how different our management decisions would be if we took into account the impact on our triple bottom line.”

“Triple bottom line? You mean like social justice? Alex, isn’t that above our pay grade?”

“Actually, I take the definition from Ken Blanchard in his book Leading at a Higher Level: provider of choice, employer of choice, and investment of choice. I’m starting to see how these all work together for high performance while aiming for high purpose. In fact, Nate, I’m starting to see this as the way to sustain real growth, a framework for all our decisions.”

“Are you sure you’re not making things more complicated than they need to be?”

“Not if it means doing the right thing and avoiding a mess like our friends across town got into,” said Alex. Nate silently remembered a competitor’s recent lawsuits. The company ignored its own surveillance of adverse product effects and caused untold patient suffering.

“I know you’ve been through a lot lately, Alex. Don’t you think you should give your recovery more time before you make changes to Beckley?”

“Actually, I have never been so sure of myself. Or I should say I’m sure of this course of action. It’s not about me anymore. I believe the people of this company have the ability to decide our future together. How about you, Nate? What would it take for you to commit to ‘leading at a higher level,’ as Blanchard would say?”

“Honestly, I’m not there, Alex. I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think of getting advice from my staff about how to run accounting and finance.”

“I can relate. I felt that way before the warehouse sessions. And the board may still drop me. But really, Nate, look inside and ask yourself what’s underneath your issues with the approach. There are people who want to help you.”

Nate looked away. “Maybe.”

Alex could see that the challenge was still there. “Let’s talk again soon, Nate,” said Alex as he rolled away.

Later that week, Alex was in his office, pondering Nate’s remarks and wondering how others at Beckley were doing with commitment to the Greater Goal. Alex’s assistant popped into his office. “Dr. Stan would like a minute with you. He is right outside.”

“Please, come on in, Stan!” Alex called to the outer office.

Dr. Stan Ralston was the genius behind many of Beckley’s most important patents. He was an early partner with Alex’s dad. He walked in slowly, showing some unsteadiness. He sat down on Alex’s couch as he had done a thousand times before with Alex’s father.

“I’ve got some news for you, Alex—something I think you will like.”

“Sure. What is it, Stan? I could use some good news.”

“Your father always made it clear that our values, including ‘do the right thing,’ should always win out, even when the ‘right thing’ might cost us some money.”

“So how do you think it’s going, Stan?” Alex responded.

“We got a little off course recently.”

“Ouch,” Alex said. “I thought this was good news.”

“It is,” Dr. Stan continued. “The Greater Goal work is bringing us back into alignment with our higher values. Here’s the story. Two of my engineers came to me with a situation. It seems that we were getting ready to produce the new multifunction monitor with some components that didn’t exactly meet our quality standards, but the parts were amazingly cheap. They probably would not have failed immediately in high numbers. Their use would have added to our profit margin in the next few quarters—coincidentally, through bonus time,” Dr. Stan raised his eyebrows, “before we had any real failures in the field.”

“Are you getting to the good news?” Alex interrupted.

“Yes. After the warehouse session, the entire team came to me en masse with a change proposal. In light of our values and their discussions about them, they decided they could not put customers at risk. That’s good.”

“I agree,” Alex said quizzically.

“And here’s the added bonus: they reengineered the product, simplified it, and did away with the need for those parts completely! We have a higher quality, more reliable, and less expensive product on our hands now—all because our team decided to do the right thing. It’s a win-win. Our recommitment to our own values led us to do the right thing. We got an even better, more profitable product. I just thought you’d want to hear this. I think we’re getting our groove back, Alex. Values driven, like your old man,” Dr. Stan said with a grin.

Alex smiled and sat back in his chair. “You’re right. That is good news. Tell me when you have any more of those stories because I could sure use the encouragement.”

Dr. Stan rocked a little bit forward on the couch. “Well if you’re up for it, I have one more.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I was going to save this one, but now is a good time.”

“Go, Stan,” Alex prompted.

“Well, we got a request in Research and Development—who knows how it filtered into us?—a special request from a mother. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. She asked if we could modify one of our implantable cardiovascular devices for her son—actually, he’s her only son. The normal devices just wouldn’t work for his unique anatomy. So we, of course, looked at the technical problems. On the face of it, though, the modification was tough and cost prohibitive. Given all our design time, the new materials, and a one-time manufacturing, it would have been hundreds of thousands of dollars for this one device. So I turned down the request. But this mother, well, she was persistent. She actually came here to Pittsburgh and met with us and eventually got through to us. Alex, your dad would have done what we did.” Dr. Stan pointed to the picture of Russ Beckley on Alex’s bookshelf. “We decided to customize our basic model to make a one-of-a-kind device for this child. We worked on it on nights and weekends. I actually went up to Cleveland and participated in the surgery to put it in. It was perfect. I’ve got pictures of this sweet kid.” With that, Stan showed Alex some pictures taken with his cell phone.

“And the rest of the story is good news. Along the way to designing, experimenting with, and redesigning this one device, we had to try a number of innovative approaches. A couple of these ideas really worked well. We are now pulling them into our main product line. Customers love what we’re doing. So you know what, Alex? Again, doing the right thing is making money for us. Talk about a Greater Goal story. I’m sorry we didn’t bring you in on this earlier, but the old Alex—”

Alex stopped him. “I know, but I love it, Stan. Keep up the good work.” With that Stan stood, shook Alex’s hand, thanked him, and walked out.