One of my more unusual “claims to fame” is that I’ve performed magic in front of a paying audience at Caeser’s palace, Las Vegas.  I’ve also performed the same act in London, Johannesburg and Minneapolis—although all of this becomes far less exciting when you find out it’s actually a presentation that draws similarities between business analysis and magic (and there are a surprising number of similarities….)

Preparing for that presentation meant that I carried out research into various branches of magic and I was particularly interested in cold reading.   This technique is used by magicians who want to appear to be able to read a subject’s mind. There are a whole range of ways of achieving this effect, from illusions and misdirection to clever language patterns and use of psychology.  One that particularly stood out to me was the Barnum Statement.

Barnum Statements can be described as: 

“…artfully generalised character statements that most people will accept as reasonably accurate” (Rowland, 2015)

A good Barnum statement may well feel personal, but it actually applies to a significant chunk of the population.  It somehow simultaneously feels specific but actually says very little.  Take the following statement:

Within some organisations there seems to be a management mantra of “pursuing ruthless efficiency”.  On the face of it, other than sounding like something that ought to appear on a “buzzword bingo” sheet, this seems like a sensible thing to aim for—I mean if we can hit the “sweet spot” of being more efficient (i.e. incurring less costs) whilst also being effective and delivering what our customers want, that has to be a good thing, right?

Well yes, this statement is probably true—to an extent—but there are some important nuances that are easily overlooked.  Efficiency is crucial, but like most things in life, it becomes problematic when taken to an extreme.  Balanced efficiency can be an excellent thing to aim for—it can actually mean you exceed customers’ expectations (“You can deliver quicker than I expected? Awesome!”).  Ruthless efficiency, on the other hand, where an organisation cuts, cuts, cuts without looking and thinking holistically at the impact is far more problematic.

An example of Ruthless Efficiency: A Gym

I was mulling this over recently when working out at my gym.  I’ve been a member of this particular gym for over 15 years, and I’ve seen managers and gym staff come and go.  The gym itself has changed ownership in that time, and in the past five years it’s pretty obvious that they have been cost cutting presumably with the aim of being “ruthlessly efficient”.  In fact, a few years ago they even lowered their monthly subscription charges, to make them more in line with their competitors.  Something that is pretty rare!  So how has the drive for ruthless efficiency affected them (and their stakeholders)? Read on….

If you have ever used the tube (metro) system in London during rush hour, you’ll know it isn’t  the sort of place where you can stand around and admire the surroundings.  Like most bustling cities, there is a focus on movement; there is a sea of people filling every conceivable space.  Anyone who dares move at a glacial pace is at risk of getting swept along with the crowd like a twig in a fast flowing river, or even worse they might be greeted by the passive-aggressive ‘tut’ of an exhausted commuter.  It seems that everyone is determined to get to their destination, trying to edge further and further forward without pushing or making contact with anyone else.  Like some kind of silent and choreographed ‘commuter dance’, It is fascinating to watch, and fascinating to be part of. 

I have travelled on the Jubilee Line from Waterloo Station countless times.  Most times, I am navigating my way through the crowds, with my brain and eyes focussed mainly on the immediate few feet in front of me.  Only fairly recently, when travelling very late at night (when the station was empty) did I look up and notice there is literally an elephant in the room.  More specifically, there is a sculpture of an elephant above the escalators.  Don’t believe me? Here’s a picture 🙂

Problem solving and organisational learning are two topics that are closely related to each other.  So often, organisations appear to be ‘hard-wired’ in a way that they means they focus on solving immediate problems without spending time assessing root causes.  It is all-too-easy to get caught in a fire-fighting doom-loop where symptoms are addressed rather than root causes, and everyone is consumed with tactical ‘busy-work’.  This is akin to a motorist who keeps topping up their car with engine oil but doesn’t look for a leak.  This works well for weeks until the leak suddenly gets worse and the engine is ruined in a catastrophic and expensive failure.

 

I was mulling this over recently whilst eating at a breakfast buffet in a hotel. I went to get a glass of juice, only to find there were no glasses left.  No problem, I thought, I’ll let one of the hotel staff know and they’ll get it fixed.  I caught the eye of a friendly waitress and explained the predicament, she apologetically looked at the empty shelf and immediately went away to put things right. She came back within minutes, clutching a single glass—passing it on to me.  I said thank you, and before I could say anything further she smiled and scurried off to her next task.  It was very busy, and I suspect she was under quite a lot of pressure to ensure her list of tasks were completed.

 

Problem solving and Organisational Learning

One of the challenges we face when looking to build organisations that can remain viable in an ever-changing environment is the need for organisations to ‘appreciate’ (look for) and respond to feedback.  The term ‘feedback’ is broad, and in practice it can take a whole variety of forms.  We might immediately think of compliments or complaints as sources of feedback, and whilst this is true, there are many other sources beside.  Some might be quantitative feedback signals and trends (“Product X has experienced a sustained drop in demand”) others might be qualitative (“Look at all these suggestions from customers that are in our mailbox!”).  The challenge for organisations is knowing which areas to focus on—which elements of feedback to action, and which to disregard.  A bigger challenge is to come up with a hypothesis as to why the trend has occurred and what needs to be done.    Traversing this tricky road requires ongoing strategic business analysis, establishing what is happening in the external environment, and aligning potential opportunities against existing strategy (or in some cases considering a change of direction).

 

Partial Feedback: A Restaurant in Toronto

When it comes to analysing feedback—whether qualitative or quantitative—one particular challenge that should be kept in mind is the fact that partial feedback can be very misleading and can lead to costly mistakes.  I was reminded of this recently when eating in a restaurant in Toronto, Canada (a very vibrant city that I hope to visit again soon!).  One thing that varies a lot by culture and nation is the approach to tipping in restaurants.  In the UK, tipping is normally considered optional, with 10% being usual for satisfactory service.  I gather in the USA it is much higher, and in Canada I am told 15% – 20% is customary (although different people appear to have different views!).

Now, more than ever, the business world seems like a hectic, fast-moving and sometimes volatile place. Businesses operate within fast-moving environments and the rate of change can be phenomenally high.  Data flows around organisations, and in many organisations decision makers can see more and more data about their business and its environment than ever before.  Emerging technology means that previously unimaginable things become plausible, and societal changes and trends mean that customers expect better and better service.

 

It is an exciting time to be alive, and as business analysts we are front and centre of this ever-changing world.  I suspect many people reading this article will be working on some type of initiative that is responding to (or pre-empting) an external change—perhaps a competitive force, a regulatory edict, or a change in customer need.

 

Yet with such a fast-moving environment, we risk being a generation of knee-jerk decision makers. With so much information and data zooming around an organisation, it is easy to perceive a trend—to see urgency—when we are actually looking at a “blip” or outlier.  Or if a trend is emerging, it is easy to make a tacit assumption as to the causation. You can imagine a Sales Manager demanding to know why sales from the website are down 30% in the last few weeks, asking for an urgent analysis of the technology (as she fears the server must have been down). This might lead to a whole “infrastructure refresh” programme and significant levels of investment.  But perhaps the real reason (and the bigger problem) is a new competitor has emerged, or an existing competitor ran a temporary promotion.  Jumping straight to solution—without appropriately and holistically thinking through the problem—can be a recipe for wasted effort.

 

This is where business analysis is essential.  Of course, I could write about pre-project problem analysis and strategic business analysis techniques—but instead I want to discuss something ‘softer’ that is often overlooked. Namely, our ability as professional change agents to create space.

 

Making Space and Stopping the Storm

It may surprise some readers to know that, although I am from the UK, I spent part of my life growing up in the USA.  I have fond memories of Rochester, Minnesota which was the place where I learned what “winter” really means (the British view of what constitutes ‘snowfall’ is very different to a Minnesotan’s).  I enjoyed learning about the cultural differences, and learned a lot about how quirky British people really are.  Being outside of my own national culture made me realise how over-politeness and an obsession with ‘fair play’ and queuing really does typify the British psyche.

 

It was a fantastic opportunity, and I enjoyed studying at a US school.  The curriculum was different and when I moved up to the next grade at an age of ten or eleven years, there was an increased focus on learning music.  I remember, vividly, speaking to one of my trusted classmates who told me:

 

“This year you have to choose an instrument, and get good at it.  If you don’t choose an instrument, you have to join the choir”.

 

Shock! Panic!

A Common Response: “Choosing the Best of a Bad Lot”