The Goal: a process of Ongoing Improvement

carrying cost
of inventory—which is

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operational expense—goes up. So it’s questionable whether you can even
fulfill the intended reduction in your total operational expense, the one
measurement you expected to improve.’’
"How can that be?’’
"Because of the combinations of two phenomena which are found in every
plant,’’ he says. "One phenomenon is called ‘dependent events.’ Do you
know what I mean by that term? I mean that an event, or a series of events,
must take place before another can begin... the subsequent event 
depends
upon the ones prior to it. You follow?’’
"Yeah, sure,’’ I say. "But what’s the big deal about that?’’ "The big deal
occurs when dependent events are in combination with another phenomenon
called ‘statistical fluctuations,’’’ he says. "Do you know what those are?’’
I shrug. "Fluctuations in statistics, right?’’
"Let me put it this way,’’ he says. "You know that some types of information
can be determined precisely. For instance, if we need to know the seating
capacity in this restaurant, we can determine it precisely by counting the
number of chairs at each table.’’
He points around the room.
"But there are other kinds of information we cannot precisely predict. Like
how long it will take the waiter to bring us our check. Or how long it will
take the chef to make an omelet. Or how many eggs the kitchen will need
today. These types of information vary from one instance to the next. They
are subject to 
statistical fluctuations.’’
"Yeah, but you can generally get an idea of what all those are going to be
based on experience,’’ I say.
"But only within a range. Last time, the waiter brought the check in five
minutes and 42 seconds. The time before it only took two minutes. And
today? Who knows? Could be three, four hours,’’ he says, looking around.

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"Where the hell is he?’’ "Yeah, but if the chef is doing a banquet and he
knows how many people are coming and he knows they’re all having
omelets, then he knows how many eggs he’s going to need,’’ I say.
"Exactly?’’ asks Jonah. "Suppose he drops one on the floor?’’ "Okay, so he
has a couple extra.’’
"Most of the factors critical to running your plant successfully cannot be
determined precisely ahead of time,’’ he says. The arm of the waiter comes
between us as he puts the totaled check on the table. I pull it to my side of the
table. "All right, I agree,’’ I say. "But in the case of a worker doing the same
job day in, day out, those fluctuations average out over a period of time.
Frankly, I can’t see what either one of those two phenomena have to do with
anything.’’
Jonah stands up, ready to leave.
"I’m not talking about the one or the other alone,’’ he says, "but about the
effect of the two of them together. Which is what I want you to think about,
because I have to go.’’
"You’re leaving?’’ I ask.
"I have to,’’ he says.
"Jonah, you can’t just run off like this.’’
"There are clients waiting for me,’’ he says.
"Jonah, I don’t have time for riddles. I need answers,’’ I tell him.
He puts his hand on my arm.
"Alex, if I simply told you what to do, ultimately you would fail. You have to
gain the understanding for yourself in order to make the rules work,’’ he says.
He shakes my hand.

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"Until next time, Alex. Call me when you can tell me what the combination
of the two phenomena mean to your plant.’’
Then he hurries away. Fuming inside, I flag down the waiter and hand him
the check and some money. Without waiting for the change, I follow in the
direction of Jonah out to the lobby.
I claim my overnight bag from the bellhop at the desk where I checked it, and
sling it over my shoulder. As I turn, I see Jonah, still without jacket or tie,
talking to a handsome man in a blue pinstripe suit over by the doors to the
street. They go through the doors together, and I trudge along a few steps
behind them. The man leads Jonah to a black limousine waiting at the curb.
As they approach, a chauffeur hops out to open the rear door for them.
I hear the handsome man in the blue pinstripe saying as he gets into the limo
behind Jonah, "After the facilities tour, we’re scheduled for a meeting with
the chairman and several of the board...’’ Waiting inside for them is a silver-
haired man who shakes Jonah’s hand. The chauffeur closes the door and
returns to the wheel. I can see only the vague silhouettes of their heads
behind the dark glass as the big car quietly eases into traffic.
I get into a cab.
The drivers asks, "Where to, chief?’’

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12
There is a guy I heard about in UniCo who came home from work one
night, walked in, and said, "Hi, honey, I’m home!’’ And his greeting echoed
back to him from the empty rooms of his house. His wife had taken
everything: the kids, the dog, the goldfish, the furniture, the carpets, the
appliances, the curtains, the pictures on the wall, the toothpaste, everything.
Well, just about everything—actually, she left him two things: his clothes
(which were in a heap on the floor of the bedroom by the closet; she had even
taken the hangers), and a note written in lipstick on the bathroom mirror
which said, "Good-bye, you bastard!’’
As I drive down the street to my house, that kind of vision is running
through my mind, and has been periodically since last night. Before I pull
into the driveway, I look at the lawn for the telltale signs of tracks left by the
wheels of a moving van, but the lawn is unmarred.
I park the 
Mazda
in front of the garage. On my way inside, I peek through
the glass, Julie’s Accord is parked inside, and I look at the sky and silently
say, "Thank You.’’
She’s sitting at the kitchen table, her back to me as I come in. I startle her.
She stands up right away and turns around. We stare at each other for a
second. I can see that the rims of her eyes are red.
"Hi,’’ I say.
"What are you doing home?’’ Julie asks.
I laugh—not a nice laugh, an exasperated laugh. "What am