The Goal: a process of Ongoing Improvement

Granby?’’
"That’s what she said,’’ says Fran.
"What’s the name and number?’’
She reads it to me.
"Okay, thanks. See you later,’’ I tell Fran.
I call the woman at corporate right away. I can hardly believe the
chairman of the board is going to come to the plant. There must be some
mistake. I mean, by the time Granby’s limo pulls up to the gate, the whole
plant might be closed.
But the woman confirms it; they want to shoot Granby here sometime in
the middle of next month.
"We need a robot as a suitable background for Mr. Granby’s remarks,’’ says
the woman.
"So why did you pick Bearington?’’ I ask her.
"The director saw a slide of one of yours and he likes the color. He thinks Mr.
Granby will look good standing in front of it,’’ she says.
"Oh, I see,’’ I tell her. "Have you talked to Bill Peach about this?’’
"No, I didn’t think there was any need for that,’’ she says. "Why? Is there a
problem?’’
"You might want to run this past Bill in case he has any other suggestions,’’ I

---

tell her. "But it’s up to you. Just let me know when you have an exact date so
I can notify the union and have the area cleaned up.’’
"Fine. I’ll be in touch,’’ she says.
I hang up and sit there on the steps muttering, "So ...he likes the color.’’
"What was that all about on the phone just now?’’ my mother asks. We’re
sitting together at the table. She’s obliged me to have something to eat before
I leave.
I tell her about Granby coming.
"Well that sounds like a feather in your cap, the head man— what’s his
name again?’’ asks my mother.
"Granby.’’
"Here he’s coming all the way to your factory to see you,’’ she says. "It must
be an honor.’’
"Yeah, it is in a way,’’ I tell her. "But actually he’s just coming to have his
picture taken with one of my robots.’’
My mother’s eyes blink.
"Robots? Like from out-of-space?’’ she asks.
"No, not from outer space. These are industrial robots. They’re not like the
ones on television.’’
"Oh.’’ Her eyes blink again. "Do they have faces?’’
"No, not yet. They mostly have arms . . . which do things like welding,
stacking materials, spray painting, and so on. They’re run by computer and
you can program them to do different jobs,’’ I explain.

---

Mom nods, still trying to picture what these robots are.
"So why’s this Granby guy want to have his picture taken with a bunch of
robots who don’t even have faces?’’ she asks.
"I guess because they’re the latest thing, and he wants to tell everybody in the
corporation that we ought to be using more of them so that—’’
I stop and glance away for a second, and see Jonah sitting there smoking his
cigar.
"So that what?’’ asks my mother.
"Uh...so that we can increase productivity,’’ I mumble, waving my hand in
the air.
And Jonah says, have they really increased productivity at your plant? Sure
they have, I say. We had—what?—a thirty-six percent improvement in one
area. Jonah puffs his cigar.
"Is something the matter?’’ my mother asks.
"I just remembered something, that’s all.’’
"What? Something bad?’’ she asks.
"No, an earlier conversation I had with the man I talked to last night,’’ I say.
My mother puts her hand on my shoulder.
"Alex, what’s wrong?’’ she’s asking. "Come on, you can tell me. I know
something’s wrong. You show up out of the blue on my doorstep, you’re
calling people all over the place in the middle of the night. What is it?’’
"See, Mom, the plant isn’t doing so well . . . and, ah... well, we’re not making
any money.’’

---

My mother’s brow darkens.
"Your big plant not making any money?’’ she asks. "But you’re telling me
about this fancy guy Granby coming, and these robot things, whatever they
are. And you’re not making any money?’’
"That’s what I said, Mom.’’
"Don’t these robot things work?’’
"Mom—’’
"If they don’t work, maybe the store will take them back.’’
"Mom, will you forget about the robots!’’
She shrugs. "I was just trying to help.’’
I reach over and pat her hand.
"Yes, I know you were,’’ I say. "Thanks. Really, thanks for everything.
Okay? I’ve got to get going now. I’ve really got a lot of work to do.’’
I stand up and go to get my briefcase. My mother follows. Did I get enough
to eat? Would I like a snack to take with me for later in the day? Finally, she
takes my sleeve and holds me in one place.
"Listen to me, Al. Maybe you’ve got some problems. I know you do, but this
running all over the place, staying up all night isn’t good for you. You’ve got
to stop worrying. It’s not going to help you. Look what worrying did to your
father,’’ she says. "It killed him.’’
"But, Mom, he was run over by a bus.’’
"So if he hadn’t been so busy worrying he would have looked before he
crossed the street.’’

---

I sigh. "Yeah, well, Mom, you may have a point. But it’s more complicated
than you think.’’
"I mean it! No worrying!’’ she says. "And this Granby fellow, if he’s making
trouble for you, you let me know. I’ll call him and tell him what a worker you
are. And who should know better than a mother? You leave him to me. I’ll
straighten him out.’’
I smile. I put my arm around her shoulders.
"I bet you would, Mom.’’
"You know I would.’’
I tell Mom to call me as soon as her phone bill arrives in the mail, and I’ll
come over and pay it. I give her a hug and a kiss good-bye, and I’m out of
there. I walk out into the daylight and get into the 
Mazda
. For a moment, I
consider going straight to the office. But a glance at the wrinkles in my suit
and a rub of the stubble on my chin convinces me to go home and clean up
first.
Once I’m on my way, I keep hearing Jonah’s voice saying to me: "So
your company is making thirty-six percent more money from your plant just
by installing some robots? Incredible.’’ And I remember that I was the one
who was smiling. I was the one who thought 
he
didn’t understand the
realities of manufacturing. Now I feel like an idiot.
Yes, the goal is to make money. I know that now. And, yes, Jonah, you’re
right; productivity did not go up thirty-six percent just because we installed
some robots. For that matter, did it go up at all? Are we making 
any
more
money because of the robots? And the truth is, I don’t know. I find myself
shaking my head.
But I wonder how Jonah knew? He seemed to know right away that
productivity hadn’t increased. There were those questions he asked.
One of them, I remember as I’m driving, was whether we had been able

---

to sell any more products as a result of having the robots. Another one was
whether we had reduced the number of people on the payroll. Then he had
wanted to know if inventories had gone down. Three basic questions.
When I get home, Julie’s car is gone. She’s out some place, which is just
as well. She’s probably furious at me. And I simply do not have time to
explain right now.
After I’m inside, I open my briefcase to make a note of those questions,
and I see the list of measurements Jonah gave me last night. From the second
I glance at those definitions again, it’s obvious. The questions match the
measurements.
That’s how Jonah knew. He was using the measurements in the crude
form of simple questions to see if his hunch about the robots was correct: did
we sell any more products (i.e., did our throughput go up?); did we lay off
anybody (did our operational expense go down?); and the last, exactly what
he said: did our inventories go down?
With that observation, it doesn’t take me long to see how to express the
goal through Jonah’s measurements. I’m still a little puzzled by the way he
worded the definitions. But aside from that, it’s clear that every company
would want to have its throughput go up. Every company would also want
the other two, inventory and operational expense, to go down, if at all
possible. And certainly it’s best if they all occur simultaneously—just as with
the trio that Lou and I found.
So the way to express the goal is this?
Increase throughput while simultaneously reducing both inventory and
operating expense.
That means if the robots have made throughput go up and the other two go
down, they’ve made money for the system. But what’s really happened since
they started working?
I don’t know what effect, if any, they’ve had on throughput. But off the top

---

of my head, I know inventories have generally increased over the past six or
seven months, although I can’t say for sure if the robots are to blame. The
robots 
have
increased our depreciation, because they’re new equipment, but
they haven’t directly taken away any jobs from the plant; we simply shifted
people around. Which means the robots had to increase operational expense.
Okay, but efficiencies have gone up because of the robots. So maybe that’s
been our salvation. When efficiencies go up, the cost-per-part has to come
down.
But did the cost really come down? How could the cost-perpart go down if
operational expense went up?
By the time I make it to the plant, it’s one o’clock, and I still haven’t
thought of a satisfactory answer. I’m still thinking about it as I walk through
the office doors. The first thing I do is stop by Lou’s office.
"Have you got a couple minutes?’’ I ask.
"Are you kidding?’’ he says. "I’ve been looking for you all morning.’’
He reaches for a pile of paper on the corner of his desk. I know it’s got to be
the report he has to send up to division.
"No, I don’t want to talk about that right now,’’ I tell him. "I’ve got
something more important on my mind.’’
I watch his eyebrows go up.
"More important than this report for Peach?’’
"Infinitely more important than that,’’ I tell him.
Lou shakes his head as he leans back in his swivel chair and gestures for me
to have a seat.
"What can I do for you?’’

---

"After those robots out on the floor came on line, and we got most of the bugs
out and all that,’’ I say, "what happened to our sales?’’
Lou’s eyebrows come back down again; he’s leaning forward and squinting
at me over his bifocals.
"What kind of question is that?’’ he asks.
"A smart one, I hope,’’ I say. "I need to know if the robots had any impact on
our sales. And specifically if there was any increase after they came on line.’’
"Increase? Just about all of our sales have been level or in a downhill slide
since last year.’’
I’m a little irritated.
"Well, would you mind just checking?’’ I ask.
He holds up his hands in surrender.
"Not at all. Got all the time in the world.’’
Lou turns to his computer, and after looking through some
files, starts
printing
out handfuls of reports, charts, and graphs. We both start leafing
through. But we find that in every case where a robot came on line, there was
no increase in sales for any product for which they made parts, not even the
slightest blip in the curve. For the heck of it, we also check the shipments
made from the plant, but there was no increase there either. In fact, the only
increase is in overdue shipments—they’ve grown rapidly over the last nine
months.
Lou looks up at me from the graphs.
"Al, I don’t know what you’re trying to prove,’’ he says. "But if you want to
broadcast some success story on how the robots are going to save the plant
with increased sales, the evidence just doesn’t exist. The data practically say

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the opposite.’’
"That’s exactly what I was afraid of,’’ I say.
"What do you mean?’’
"I’ll explain it in a minute. Let’s look at inventories,’’ I tell him. "I want to
find out what happened to our work-in-process on parts produced by the
robots.’’
Lou gives up.
"I can’t help you there,’’ he says. "I don’t have anything on inventories by