Every organization must be prepared to abandon everything it does to survive in the future.
In 1917, industrialist Charles M. Schwab wrote the following in his book Succeeding with What You Have:
I had a mill manager who was finely educated, thoroughly capable and master of every detail of the business. But he seemed unable to inspire his men to do their best.
"How is it that a man as able as you," I asked him one day, "cannot make this mill turn out what it should?"
"I don't know," he replied. "I have coaxed the men; I have pushed them, I have sworn at them. I have done everything in my power. Yet they will not produce."
It was near the end of the day; in a few minutes the night force would come on duty. I turned to a workman who was standing beside one of the red-mouthed furnaces and asked him for a piece of chalk.
"How many heats has your shift made today?" I queried.
"Six," he replied.
I chalked a big "6" on the floor, and then passed along without another word. When the night shift came in they saw the "6" and asked about it.
"The big boss was in here today," said the day men. "He asked us how many heats we had made, and we told him six. He chalked it down."
The next morning I passed through the same mill. I saw that the "6" had been rubbed out and a big "7" written instead. The night shift had announced itself. That night I went back. The "7" had been erased, and a "10" swaggered in its place. The day force recognized no superiors. Thus a fine competition was started, and it went on until this mill, formerly the poorest producer, was turning out more than any other mill in the plant.[8]
Today, businesses still wrestle with how to boost productivity, but they also struggle with problems unknown when Schwab was building his empire. Twenty-first-century leaders also struggle with implementing advanced technology, access to capital, pricing pressures, global competition, community self-sustainability, and relationships with a diverse and global workforce.
Although much has changed, Schwab's simple action points the way to rewriting the future of organizations.
It's worth spending a moment on the question: what did Schwab really do? Without the Three Laws of Performance, we would say he created a public measurement system and boosted competition between shifts. But was there something else? Perhaps even something brilliantly simple?
From the perspective of the Three Laws, Schwab used one word—"six"—to create a new network of conversations that put the steelworkers into a new game, with a new future. The new game was "beat six heats," and, as evidenced by results, workers found the new game inspiring. The way situations occurred to them shifted, as did their actions.
This example shows how artfully the Three Laws can be applied. Schwab didn't launch a new program, create new systems, or implement new incentives. With one action that took less than a minute, he transformed how steelmaking occurred to the mill workers and, thus, their performance.
This chapter isn't just about the usual business goals—making more money, building shareholder wealth, or making smart investments. Nor is it just about the usual concerns of social and environmental activists—healing the earth, caring for employees in developing countries, or avoiding corporate wrongdoing.
This chapter is about a new approach to managing and leading, in which organizations, grounded in the Three Laws, unlock new purpose and capability to accomplish it all. They can achieve both wealth and social responsibility, both profits and environmental responsibility, both expansion and partnership with people who have felt exploited by corporations.
We start by looking at the crisis conditions that organizations are in today, how they got into this mess, and what ordinary people can do to remake their organizations into what we call Selfled organizations.
In our view, the organization is the single greatest invention in the past few centuries, resulting in the coordinated activities and resources of people. Organizations have sent people to the moon, harnessed the power of the atom and built the microprocessor, connected the world through air travel and the Internet, and created a standard of living that was unimaginable even one hundred years ago.
Yet with all the amazing accomplishments of organizations, many of our current problems are fueled by a narrow-minded view of the scope and purpose of a specific type of organization: the corporation.[9]
A book about rewriting the future would be incomplete if we didn't turn the power of the Three Laws to the problems organizations face. This most powerful of human creations requires more than "change management." Emerging global imperatives call for transformation—altering the underlying structure of a corporation's sense of itself. As we've done so often in this book, we'll start with the default future—this time, of organizations. As we've seen before, the default future is a recycled version of the past, so to look forward, we start by looking back.
Seeing the default future of organizations requires us to revisit how modern corporations developed in the United States and then spread worldwide. In the 1800s, they were rare. Corporations were usually chartered by a government for a specific purpose and a limited amount of time. A corporation would build a bridge, for example, and then disband. After the U.S. Civil War, Congress passed the Fourteenth Amendment, extending basic human rights to former slaves. In the decades that followed, business advocates convinced the U.S. courts to treat corporations as if they were individuals, with many of the same rights that individuals enjoyed. Corporations gained the right to employ people, own property, and sue and be sued, but unlike people, a corporation can't be thrown in prison, and it can continue to exist as long as it makes a profit.
In the past two hundred years, the capital markets have developed ways of buying and selling ownership in large companies in real time. This gave investors options—if they didn't like how a company was performing, they'd sell. After all, why would investors keep their money in a corporation, which could go bankrupt, unless they were getting a higher return than they would on safe investments, like government debt? To survive, corporations had to both earn a significant profit and grow that profit quickly.
To satisfy growth needs, corporations learned to leave the costs of their activities for others to pay. As they extracted resources from the earth, converting them to some other form, the environmental and human damage of their operations usually fell on governments and communities in the developing world. This process is called "externalization"—making costs external to the company. Because most corporations were playing the same game, a company that didn't externalize costs would be uncompetitive and might be abandoned by both customers wanting cheaper prices and investors seeking higher returns. The world became aware of the negative effects of externalization in the financial crisis of 2008, when bad debt created by corporations required government intervention to avoid economic collapse.
In 2004, Joel Bakan wrote and cocreated with Mark Achbar the documentary The Corporation, which chronicles corporate culpability in environmental damage, worker exploitation, and even criminal activity. With what Bakan told us was a bit of creative license, he and his filmmaker colleagues, Achbar and Jennifer Abbott, pose a question early in the film: "If a corporation is a person, what type of person is it?" They show that corporations often demonstrate:
A callous unconcern for the feelings of others
An incapacity to maintain enduring relationships
A reckless disregard for the safety of others
Deceitfulness: repeated lying and conning of others for profit
An incapacity to experience guilt
A failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors
A person that exhibited these qualities would be clinically diagnosed as a psychopath.
As Ray Anderson said, people will look back centuries from now and say externalization allowed corporate leaders to become "plunderers of the planet."
What worked in the past is no longer working, because the world is running out of places to hide. Not only are people (including shareholders) paying more attention to companies' role in climate change, but local populations are now armed with technology straight out of James Bond. People who didn't have newspapers now have cell phones that can access profitability data on their employers. Workers who are angry can capture video of their conditions and upload it to YouTube for the world to see—and to judge. Local communities are flexing more power, in some cases revoking companies' right to operate in their regions and countries.
Barring something unforeseen, these pressures will increase over the next decade, and as they do, businesses will find it harder to operate in certain parts of the world. Community self-sustainability and the strategic implementation of social responsibility will become the next major challenges for organizations. In fact, many developing and developed countries have enacted laws and regulations making improvements in these areas a requirement for the right to continue doing business. Externalization is becoming harder, while investors' demands for profits and growth are increasing. Add to this the fact that employees in all parts of the world are demanding better places to work—both in terms of working and living conditions. If a company doesn't promote sustainable practices, jobs in those companies occur as less valuable, and people's work as less important.
Uncertainty has crept into the very nature of what it means to be a company. Many leaders we talked to in organizations expressed a similar theme:
"We're getting squeezed. We have to make our numbers and be good citizens at the same time. Sometimes you can't have it both ways, but it seems that unless we do, we will be out of business."
Leaders in other types of organizations are feeling the pressure from these trends as well. Governments need to raise revenue and protect the environment. NGOs often try to partner with companies as they criticize their actions. Startups compete with established ventures.
As management expert Peter Senge told us: "The world of the organization is changing profoundly, and no one is sure of the new rules."
We refer to this looming crisis as the global warming of organizations. The heat on organizations is getting turned up, and there's no relief in sight.
Leadership consultant Peter Block posed a question in an interview with us: "Can a collective organism like an organization have a purpose, other than growth, and can it bring something into the world that didn't exist before?" His answer to his own question was "Probably yes." He went on to say that a vision for organizations that would make a difference is clear, and it has been articulated by experts like Margaret Wheatley, Chris Argyris, and Peter Senge. "But we haven't been able to institutionalize that vision," Block said, "and so it remains elusive."
Although the last few decades have seen corporate responsibility increase, the fundamental nature of organizations hasn't transformed. As Gary Hamel wrote in The Future of Management, management of organizations has changed little since early in the twentieth century when the modern techniques of job descriptions, divisional structures, and decision rights evolved. Hamel noted that if management pioneers Alfred Sloan or Fredrick Taylor were alive today, they would see much that is familiar in how the current Fortune 500 operates.
The questions are: What would an evolution of corporations look like? What could the corporation of the late twentyfirst century look like? How can we build them today, and use them to release us from crises we seem to be facing?
Before software developers release a new version of a product, they usually ask what users want that the current version doesn't provide. If they're savvy businesspeople, they'll also ask what new approaches will delight customers. So let's ask that question about corporations: What do users (investors, employees, customers, suppliers, governments, activists, non-profits, and union leaders) want that the older and outdated version doesn't offer? What new features would not just satisfy them, but delight them?
The twentieth-century organization was built on the analogy of corporations as individuals. The problem, we assert, is that the analogy wasn't taken far enough. Evolving this idea means extending the analogy in ways that, to our knowledge, have never been done before.
To be clear, we are not saying that corporations (or other types of organizations) are people. They're not. We are suggesting that the analogy of the corporation as a person has value we haven't mined yet—so much value that we can finally build organizations that have it all: higher profits alongside of authentic social responsibility. These organizations will have both an engaged, satisfied workforce and productive relationships with all stakeholders.
As we start to walk down the road that will lead us to the next version of organizations, think about what it means to be a person. What aspects of the human experience are most important to you? The right to own property, employ people, sue and be sued—the ways in which corporations are individuals today—would be on the list, but probably near the bottom. At the top of your list, we're willing to bet, would be values, aspirations, and elements that are noble—family, relationships, community, even joy and love. Our lives without these aspects would seem stark. Most of us seek a fully integrated experience, in which what we do every day is infused with, and guided by, these noble aspirations.
Notice that these aspirations are, at least in part, linguistic. Love, community, and relationships don't exist in the world independent of language.[10] Only human beings, with their linguistic nature, can live a principle-centered existence.
Our approach, from the Three Laws, is to consider the entire human experience as arising in language. We assert that this way of approaching what it means to be human gives a pathway to fully integrating our lives with our aspirations. It also gives us insights that are the basis of creating the next version of the organization.[11]
A person whose word is divided or split lacks wholeness and completeness. An enduring sense of satisfaction requires living with integrity—honoring our word, as we saw in the preceding chapter. Integrity—speaking consistently in all situations, keeping our word when possible, saying when we won't be able to keep it and then dealing with the consequences—makes us whole, complete, and powerful.
Most of us use language in a way that is fragmented. We seek to be liked, or win approval, or avoid situations that occur to us as dominating, and so we speak in a way that will bring us acceptance or recognition or safety in that moment. In another moment, with another group, we speak differently and create a lack of consistency and ultimately of power. We don't speak honestly, we hold back, we give our word and don't keep it. The result is a lack of integrity and a loss of power.
Most of us don't consider the effects of a lack of integrity in our lives. As we saw in Chapter Four, the list includes a loss of satisfaction, freedom, and self-expression. Consider also that a person lacking integrity lacks a single, integrated self. This idea is not new. The compilers of the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy note the following: "Integrity is primarily a formal relation one has to oneself."[12] The same article mentions "Integrity as Self-Integration." In fact, this theme runs through the philosophical discourse on integrity—relating integrity to being whole and complete as a person.[13]
On the positive side, honoring our word is also the route to creating whole and complete social and working relationships, and it provides an actionable pathway to earning the trust of others. It allows who we really are to come forward and to become a presence in the world. We call such a person Selfled.[14] Self, with a capital "S," represents a full integration of all of the parts of a person, including those driven by principles, values, nobility—the highest aspirations. Integrity allows a person's Self to emerge and holds it in place.
It's key to remember that Self arises in language, through conversations.[15] Once we have an integrity-based relationship with our word, we can use conversations to build lives around this Self, resulting in greater effectiveness, purpose, capability, and satisfaction.
A person who is Selfled occurs as honorable, focused, confident without arrogance, wise, consistent, thoughtful, and dedicated. From different points of view, a Selfled person would be described as enlightened, integrated, or evolved.
The purpose of this chapter is to make an organization Selfled, with the Self arising from all those people participating in the organization's network of conversations. The result is an organization that has it all: skyrocketing profits, dedicated and engaged employees, satisfied local communities, and sustainability.
Most organizations comprise networks of conversations that are inconsistent, dissonant, and cluttered. Think of the kinds of conversations you hear at work. The following will seem familiar:
Why are they doing that to us?
Will this be a good quarter? What's Wall Street going to think of us?
Are the rumors true?
My product is better than their product.
I just want to do a good enough job to not get fired.
I want to do a job that makes me proud.
I wish they'd appreciate what I just did for him.
How'd that person get so far ahead?
If a single person engaged in so many contradictory conversations, we might describe him as schizophrenic, paranoid, or psychotic. We certainly wouldn't count on his word or look for his leadership.
However, if an organization's network of conversations could be infused with integrity, and harmonized, we'd have the effect we saw with Lonmin, New Zealand Steel, the Polus Group, and many other cases in this book. All of those organizations found their Self and became Selfled.
For an organization to deal with the pressure cooker it is in, it needs to rewrite its future by altering its network of conversations. It needs to create a compelling future for its stakeholders and align its network of conversations to fulfill that future. In the process, the organization's Self emerges, which is the collective essence of all of the people involved in its operations, including a future that inspires them and fulfills their concerns. This is what we mean by a Selfled organization.
Although a process as complex as finding an organization's Self can't be reduced to steps, there is a critical flow, detailed in the following section.
The big question is, why don't more leaders step forward? Peter Senge gave us one reason: "We all have a sense of what is happening, a deep uneasiness. But we have become habituated to the modern artifacts of successful living, so we keep ourselves distracted and entertained—so we don't pay much attention."
Jim Collins, who suggests that what prevents many organizations from becoming "great" is a focus on being "good," alludes to another reason more leaders don't come forward. Only when they abandon holding on to being good can they move up to great. Likewise, people have to see beyond their current success before they can lead the effort of transforming an organization.
Finally, many people feel they don't have the authority to step up and make a difference. Yet in most of the companies in this book, the desire for "something more" began with people other than the CEO or chairman. At Interface (where Ray Anderson was the chief executive), it started with customers asking what was the company's policy on the environment. At Lonmin, it started with the communities demanding a different relationship with the platinum mine. At New Zealand Steel, it began with a concerned manager in Human Resources. At the Polus Group, it started with one employee taking a public Landmark Education program and wishing to apply what he learned at work. At Northrop Grumman, it started with a vice president.
A middle manager can, in our experience, use future-based language to create a case for taking new kinds of action that senior executives find compelling. It doesn't take authority to set an organization on a new course. It does take owning the situation, and knowledge of how to use the Three Laws to transform even psychopathic or self-centered organizations into star global citizens.
The first part of stepping up begins with standing for the possibility that your organization can go beyond its current views of success to a place that integrates the profit motive with the desire to be global citizens. That is the first part. The next part is the risky one.
In September 2000, UPS launched a commercial that got everyone talking about people who merely make proposals and then leave it to other people to do the heavy lifting. Here's how it went:
The first question is, why did people find this commercial so funny? Peter Block indirectly addressed this question when he told us: "One of the flaws of management in this day and age is that we fragment accountabilities and then everyone focuses on their own piece." People often see their role as making proposals and leaving the decision making and implementation to others. Often executives see their jobs as making the hard decisions. Both sides get frustrated that the other isn't doing enough. Block suggests, "We need to have working teams and networks thinking broader." Such networks don't care about who is in charge, and they move seamlessly from proposals to implementation.
For new futures to arise, the conversational environment needs to include integrity and future-based communication. For the organizational Self to emerge, people have to take responsibility for the whole of the organization and for the concerns of stakeholders. People have to do more than make proposals. Executives have to do more than make the tough decisions. Everyone has to take ownership for the company, its network of conversations, and the environment in which those conversations take place.
In The Corporation, Sir Mark Moody-Stuart, former chairman of Royal Dutch Shell, tells the following story of a protest at his rural home when he was staying there with his wife. About twentyfive people arrived and hung a banner emblazoned with "Murderers!" They marched around his home in gas masks. In the documentary, Sir Mark says what happened:
As a public demonstration, it wasn't very effective ... it was a rural area, there were two people and a dog [at home]. ... But then we sat down and talked with them for a couple of hours, gave them tea and coffee, and they had lunch on our lawn.
After about twenty minutes, they said, "Well, the problem's not you, it's Shell." And I said, "Wait a minute, let's talk about what is Shell." It's made up of people like me.
Perhaps the biggest limitation of businesses (not just Shell) is that their network of conversations is managed from the notion "Only involve the people that we need to involve," or "Keep the barbarians outside the gates." But somehow the balance between legitimate privacy and appropriate transparency has been lost. As a result, organizations made up of well-intentioned people often commit crimes, oppress local populations, and damage the environment.
Some organizations involve employees in strategic conversations, but they generally don't involve external stakeholders. This, in our view, is a problem and an opportunity—organizations that initiate and engage in ongoing conversations with their external stakeholders will naturally evolve. They will be among the first to build authentic relationships with the groups and communities that they affect.
Returning to the Shell example and Sir Mark's meeting with the protesters, he said, "In the end, what we found in that discussion is all the things that they were worried about, I was worried about, as well. Climate, oppressive regimes, human rights."
There was a big difference between how the situation occurred to Sir Mark and how it occurred to the protesters. In his words: "I feel I can make a contribution to this; these people feel frustrated because they had nothing to do." When stakeholders are not allowed into the network of conversations, they get frustrated and angry, and sometimes they go out of their way to try to shut a company down.
Why doesn't this happen internally in the course of business? The answer is brutally simple. These kinds of conversations threaten management. Block illustrated this when he told us: "I wrote a book on empowerment, and people would bring me in to talk about empowerment, but all they'd really want to talk about was boundaries. I can't give a talk without some manager asking me about anarchy."
Many managers fear that opening up the dialogue to external concerns will mean a total loss of control. Yet there is some logic at work: If an organization does listen to stakeholder concerns and then doesn't follow through in a meaningful way, people will feel let down and angry—worse off than before the process started. The process does require integrity to work—but so does everything else. In our experience, the benefits of a process dedicated to involving external stakeholders far outweighs the risks.
Lonmin is an exception, in part, because of the integrity that has been built into its network of conversations. Its leaders created venues that involved internal and external stakeholders and brought forth the concerns of unions, elected officials, community leaders, workers from all levels, school principals, NGOs, even the World Bank. Sandile Nogxina, the director general of the Department of Minerals and Energy in South Africa, was asked what Lonmin had done differently from other companies. He said, "They listened to us." We add, "and with integrity."
An organizational Self emerges when the right seeds have been planted. The conversational environment has to be tended to and implanted with integrity and ownership. The concerns of stakeholders must be an active set of conversations. People have to confront the truth about the default future of the organization and be willing to set it down and to let it go. When all this happens, people begin to glimpse what this group can achieve.
As the Self emerges, people begin to notice that they all have the same vision in mind. Warren Bennis once asked Hollywood director Robert Zemeckis which of his movies he liked the most, and he immediately said, "Forrest Gump." "Why?" Bennis asked. Zemeckis said, "We were all making the same movie." When an organization is Selfled, as Zemeckis's production crew apparently was, the result is a highly focused and coordinated effort leading to world-class results. And in Zemeckis's case, a slew of Academy Awards.
What if everyone in your company were "making the same movie"? Or striving for the same objective—something important, perhaps difference making?
Oftentimes the Self emerges like a bear jumping out of a cave—suddenly and dramatically. As Lonmin engaged with its communities, it developed a process called the Lentswe (which means "voice" in Tswana, one of the six languages spoken in the area). The 150 members of this very diverse group met over a two-year period and developed a charter, vision, and strategic outcomes for the year 2040. As its vision emerged, it startled its authors.
The tipping point for the 150 people occurred when an elderly lady stood up, interrupting an argument over which village would be the first to have streetlights installed, and said:
The reason nothing gets done around here is that we are all just different villages out for ourselves. We need to get concerned about what will work for everyone. We need to think of ourselves as "The Greater Lonmin Community," not the little villages and communities that we come from.
This birth of the Greater Lonmin Community allowed the participants to experience a new sense of Self, allowing for the future of the local populations to shift from struggle and argument to velocity and creativity.
When their work on the Lentswe Charter was done, participants were so moved by it that they produced a video in which Lentswe members read, sang, and danced—in South African tradition—about their vision for 2040. When the Self emerges, it's palpable and startling.
Peter Block commented on approaches like this when he said:
In the future, freedom will become an organizing principle, and will replace control and predictability. The personal transformation movement in the 1970s facilitated people to ask, "This is my life, now what do I want it to be?" Now it's time for people in organizations to say, "This is mine, now what do I want it to be?"
Governments can fuel the emergence of this new kind of corporation by offering incentives to manage for future shareholder value and avoiding excessive externalization.
Once the Self of an organization is clear, leaders step forward and use future-based language to make declarations. Managers come forward to build systems, processes, policies, and procedures to turn these declarations into reality.
The Self is potent; it is also easily driven away. In the course of writing this book, we came across several cases in which leaders did everything in this chapter up to this point, and then the effort collapsed. Sometimes it was because the company was sold, and the new management didn't understand what this effort was about. In other cases, a champion of the initiative left the company without training a successor. Without continuity, the Self of an organization dissipates, like smoke on a windy day, allowing politics and shortterm interests to take over.
Toward the end of our writing project, we met at Steve's home in Miami to review the cases, interviews, and work that spanned almost eight years. One of our biggest supporters in writing this book is a medical doctor turned business consultant, Halee Fischer-Wright. As we discussed why more organizations don't focus on the Self, she commented, "There needs to be a Hippocratic oath of management."
The more we discussed the situation, the more her suggestion seemed perfect. In 1964, Louis Lasagna, academic dean of the School of Medicine at Tufts University, looked at the writings of Hippocrates and crafted the modern version of this oath that is used by most medical schools around the world. Think of the state of modern management as you read what medical doctors commit to. It says, in part:
I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures [that] are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism....
I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability....
I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.... May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.
The obvious question is, what would management's version of the Hippocratic oath sound like? We posed this question to a number of academics, business leaders, consultants, famous authors, and other opinion leaders. Most said the current version would say, "I promise to build shareholder value. Period."
One of the experts we interviewed was Rakesh Khurana of the Harvard Business School. In 2007, Khurana wrote Higher Aims to Hired Hands: The Social Transformation of American Business Schools and the Unfulfilled Promise of Management as a Profession. At the time we interviewed him, he was finishing work on another book on the need for management to form commitments beyond shareholder value alone.
Like us, Khurana believes in the power of the free enterprise system, but also that management has a lot of work to do. He said, "The original idea [in the twentieth century] was to make management a profession. ... It didn't happen. The contemporary state of business education is in many ways the antithesis of that idea."
Khurana explained that in the early days of the twentieth century, the public demanded greater accountability of corporations. Congress got involved, and managers promised to self-regulate. He went on: "Management had a Field of Dreams approach.... 'If we build a business school, the profession will come.' " Business schools became a growth area for universities, but management never found its noble purpose.
Instead, management developed an increasingly potent set of tools to return value to shareholders. Based on the scientific management approach, and newer approaches in the decades that followed, managers learned to create job descriptions, disperse decision rights, set goals, evaluate performance, and coordinate the work of thousands of people. Management focused on the mechanics of achievement, and the results are beyond impressive. As Khurana told us, "The corporation ... lifted more people out of poverty and created more well-being than anything else. But what's been missing is to contextualize the corporation within the society in which it's embedded. We've lost the ability to have discourse to address that ... what's its purpose?"
The questions facing the profession are: Who is able to lead management toward discovering this purpose? Who can do for management what Dr. Louis Lasagna did for medicine? Said differently, who is able to find the Self in management?
If the last few decades are any indication, this effort won't be led by academics, lawmakers, political activists, or the media. Like most innovations in business, it will come from the business world itself.
Only an accomplished business leader, who has built his or her company into a global citizen, would have the legitimacy to take on such a challenge.
It will come, we believe, from people who marshal the power of the Three Laws of Performance.
As we conclude this middle section of the book, here are some questions that will bring the key points of this chapter into your life:
To what extent do the leaders in this organization focus on more than profit?
In what ways are we "externalizing"?
Of all of the people in this organization, who is best equipped to lead an effort to find the organizational Self?
What could I do to facilitate this process?
If this organization became Selfled, what impact could we make beyond our own boundaries?
For the first time in history, finding an organization's Self is more than a good idea; it is a business imperative. A company that listens and responds to all of its stakeholders can construct a business model to form long-term partnerships throughout the global workplace.
We now turn to the third and last part of this book—mastering the game of performance. It addresses what you will encounter if you take on mastering the Three Laws.