I smile sheepishly. James has a maxim. He's repeated it many times to us:
Always preview your conclusions with the client.
Never walk into a room
unless every client executive present has been briefed on what you're going
to say. Always know where they stand beforehand.
(By the way, that advice applies to just about any meeting with an
important constituency. It's the same whether you're meeting with a client or
with your own organization's leadership to discuss a major proposal.)
“I know,” I admit.“Always review our findings beforehand with
everyone. Encourage them to get their fingerprints on it.”
Three months later, Trevor retires. A new, young CEO is appointed by the
board to take over this troubled company. Richard Early is a hotshot, a take-
no-prisoners executive who had already turned
around two other major
companies.
I have a very brief meeting with him shortly after he arrives, and I share a
copy of our analysis with him. All 172 pages!
A week later, his executive assistant calls me. “Mr. Early asks if you
could please prepare an executive summary of your report.” I ask her what
he's looking for. “He wants something in between the one page of summary
conclusions at the front and the 172 pages of analysis.” I look at the 172
pages sitting on my desk, and grimace. I roll up my sleeves.
I have my work
cut out for me.
For days, I struggle to summarize our analysis. I work like crazy. No
sleep. I don't want just a summary, I want a statement, a manifesto that is
clear and bold and compelling.
I finally reduce 172 pages to five, and send them to the new CEO. They
are five hard-hitting pages. They tell a story. It's a convincing, lively tale.
But several weeks pass. I hear nothing. I give up hope of continuing our
work with this client.
A month later, Richard Early calls me personally on the phone. That is
unusual—the CEO, calling me directly. Usually, you are summoned by one
of five executive assistants.
“Thanks for the summary,” he says. “Now, I finally understand what you
guys are saying. I really hadn't seen it clearly before, based on the huge
report you gave me. Now it's apparent. It gives the answers we need. In
fact, I circulated your summary to my board. I think it makes a compelling
case. Can you come up next week? I've got time on Friday.
I want to discuss
some possible next steps.”
Elated, I run to James's office and tell him the good news. The CEO
called
me! James nods approvingly.
“So, what did you learn from this?” he asks me again. Not a single word
of congratulations. All he says is,
What did you learn?
“You don't communicate with CEOs with 100 slides. They digest
information
in short, concentrated bites.”
“Okay,” James says. “What else?” I keep thinking.
“Top executives are not interested in methodology,” I add.
“That's right. They want to know if they can trust you. Can you do the
job? Are you among the best at what you do? Will you always put their
interests first? By the way,” he continues, “what would you say you have
learned about
trust?”
“More analysis and expertise doesn't build more trust,” I say. “We needed
to invest in more face-time with this client. And with Richard Early, as soon
as he started.”
“Anything else?”
I keep thinking about the 172 pages I was so proud of. And the condensed
five pages that sold the CEO on our work.
“Sometimes, less is more?” I'm reminded that Louie Armstrong said that
it's not the notes that make the music—it's the space between the notes.
James answers me with a smile that slowly fills his face. I'm not sure
which does more to make my day—the call from the new CEO, or James's
smile.
It's a lesson I had to learn and one I've never forgotten. I'm thinking that a
difficult experience is often the best education, but sometimes the tuition is
very high.
Setbacks are great teachers, but so are successes. The great Peter Drucker
wrote, “Follow effective action with quiet reflection.
From the quiet
reflection will come even more effective action.”
People often race headlong from one activity to the next, never
pausing to reflect. To help someone get the most out of their
experiences, ask:
“What did you learn?”