On the Fast Track

At six-thirty, I took the elevator down to the lobby. I'd changed from a suit and tie to slacks and a dress shirt because I never liked polo shirts and I always thought T-shirts looked sloppy. Miranda was sitting in a chair waiting on me, and she'd changed to a different blouse that fit a little tighter and a black skirt that was a little shorter. She was still wearing nylons and heels.

Dinner with Miranda was a little disconcerting. I'd given up several things for my career, and one of those things was a steady girlfriend. Oh, I'd dated a little when I was under thirty, but it never seemed to last. I was always involved in some project or other that was always behind schedule, so I ended up having to cancel a lot of dates.

After about five minutes with Miranda, though, it got a lot easier. Miranda was the kind of woman most men think they'd like to meet some day. She liked to listen to what I had to say, but she'd tell me about herself when I asked. By the time we walked back to the hotel, I knew a lot about her, and she knew a lot about me, a lot more than I probably should have told her considering our relationship was strictly professional. It was just very easy to talk with her.

Day Two proved to be a repeat of Day One, just with a different topic. That topic was the importance of quality and involved another simulation. This simulation used more Lego blocks, and when Miranda sat the box on the table, I figured Future Leaders Consulting must own a sizeable number of shares in Lego.

This time, we had assembly instructions for what the instructor called a "widget", we had packaging instructions for packaging ten widgets to a box, and we had inspection instructions for each widget as well as for the packaging. One team member would build widgets, the second would pack them into boxes he built with more Legos, and the third would inspect them. Bruce named himself the inspector since that was he did for his company. Collin and I flipped a coin for who would assemble the widgets. I won the toss, so I was the assembler and Collin was the packager.

The instructions said we weren't allowed to talk to each other. The assembler was supposed to make widgets as fast as possible, the packer was to build boxes and pack the widgets as fast as possible, and the inspector was supposed to inspect them and sort them as good or bad.

Five minutes into the simulation, it was obvious that something was wrong. Everything Bruce looked at, he rejected. We had a pile of boxes of rejected widgets and no boxes of good widgets. I stopped assembling widgets and walked up to Bruce.

"Hey, Bruce. You're not passing anything. What's wrong?"

Bruce shook his head.

"We're not suppose to be talking. We're suppose to be building widgets."

His attitude pissed me off a little. I mean, following instructions is fine if the instructions work, but our instructions obviously weren't.

"Yeah, I know what he said, but he also said we'd be scored on how many good widgets we made. At this rate, we're going to score zero."

Collin had joined us by then.

"Why did we stop?"

I explained my concern and what I thought we should do, but Collin shook his head.

"We were supposed to follow the instructions and that's what I've been doing. I suppose if you want to change that, we could ask the instructor if we can."

He turned to his assistant then.

"What do you think, Martha. Should we ask the instructor if we can change?"

Martha just smiled.

"I can't make any decisions for you. All I can do is help you apply what you learned this morning to the simulation."

Collin looked at Bruce.

"Bruce, what do you think. Should we ask the instructor if we can change the plan?"

Bruce shook his head.

"The plan is perfectly clear to me. It's also perfectly clear that you two aren't doing what you're suppose to do. If you were, we'd be building good widgets instead of bad ones."

I've never been one to keep digging when I'm already in a hole, and I was really pissed by then. I grabbed Bruce's inspection instructions and Collin's packaging instructions. It took five seconds to see what the problem was. The instructions for assembly and packaging were ambiguous enough there was no way to build or package anything that would make it through the inspection process that was described in great detail.

"Guys, if we keep doing what we're doing, we'll never build a good widget. We have to change."

The vote was two to my one to keep following the instructions we were given. At four, Collin presented our results.

"We didn't make any good widgets. Early on, Mark identified the reason why, but we didn't think we were supposed to change the process so we didn't."

That was about all he could say. The other team did a little better. They'd figured out what was going on and had changed on their own about half way through.

For dinner that night, Miranda had arranged a table at an Italian restaurant for seven. Just like the night before, she met me in the lobby at six-thirty.

After we'd ordered, Miranda said it looked like I wasn't very happy at the end of the simulation. I said I wasn't, but I'd get over it. She smiled then.

"Tell me what made you upset. That information can help make our simulations better."

I was going to just say that if we'd changed, we'd have done better, but I got carried away. I'm not really sure what all I said, but when I got back to my room, I was pretty sure I'd told her if I'd been in charge, I'd have stopped everything, analyzed what was going wrong, and changed as soon as it was apparent we were going in the wrong direction. She'd listened intently and even took some notes she said she was going to show to her boss.

The next day was just as unproductive as the first two. The "instruction" if you can call four hours of drivel about workforce management instruction, was just stuff any man who's ever managed people would already know.

In the simulation, we were supposed to figure out how to resolve a union dispute. The situation given our team was impossible to resolve because the company was losing money and the union was threatening to strike for higher wages and an increase in benefits. If the company gave in to the union demands, they'd lose even more money and probably go bankrupt.

I represented the company, Bruce was the union committee, and Collin was the negotiator. The rules said Collin had to get my approval for anything he agreed to and that Bruce was to hold firm on his demands. My goal was to get the company profitable again.

At dinner that night, Miranda asked me what I thought about that day. I tried to be diplomatic by saying I didn't think the situation was one that would probably happen in the real world. She asked me if it really did, how would I handle it. By then, I was pretty fed up with the whole thing, so I told her what I really thought.

"There's only one situation in which negotiation works, and that's when both parties have something to gain and are willing to give up one goal to achieve another. In this simulation, the rules were that the company couldn't offer anything that would hurt profitability and the union couldn't back down on their demands for higher wages and improved benefits.

"That never happens in the real world. In the real world, the company would offer something else instead of a wage and benefit increase, like a promise to put more work into a plant if the union settled for less or maybe an increase contingent and based upon productivity improvements.

"That offer would also tell the union that if the union didn't settle for less, there would be less work kept in the plant and they'd lose members. All unions understand that the company will not continue to do business in a facility if they continue to lose money. They'll do whatever it takes to keep their shareholders happy. Since the union reps know that and want to keep all their members paying dues, they have a reason to negotiate."

"I see", she said. "I'll talk with my boss about this."

Day Four was the day Miranda had promised would be a real challenge, and it was. We spent four hours learning about profit and loss statements and how to interpret them. In the afternoon, we got the simulation. At least we didn't have to use Lego bricks for this one.

The simulation was about a company starting up a new product in a new plant. We had page after page of bills of material and a process flow diagram. Other pages listed costs for material and equipment in different countries, transportation time and costs from those countries, building costs in selected US locations, and the prevailing wage in each of those locations.

The final pages listed maximum selling price, man hours required for each part and final assembly, and the required cash flow and return on investment. Our task was to decide where to buy materials and equipment, where to build a plant, and how much we could pay in labor in order to achieve the required cash flow and return on investment. We had that afternoon to figure that out and had to present our plan the next morning.

Just like the first three simulations, our team had differing opinions. Bruce said we should make all the parts in house because that way quality would be a given. Collin said the plant should pay a little above the average wage for the area in order to attract a good workforce. They both had different locations for the plant in mind. Bruce wanted the plant in the location that would already have a skilled workforce. Collin said we could pay less if we trained our own workforce.

We agreed that Collin would do the calculations for labor cost and Bruce would do the calculations for material costs. I did the calculations for building cost and transportation. After two hours, we put all that together to see if we could make it work. By hour three, we had put all our numbers into the formulas for cash flow and return on investment we'd been given. The answer was that it couldn't be done.

We tried for another hour, substituting material costs, equipment costs, building costs, and labor costs into the formulas and the answer was the same. It couldn't be made to work. Some plans were better than others, but they all lost money.

When we finally gave up, Bruce looked at Collin and said, "I'm not going to present this. They wouldn't have given us the problem if there wasn't a solution. We just haven't found it and I'll look like an idiot if I say it can't be done."

Collin agreed.

"I can't stand up there and say we couldn't figure this out either. My company would see that when they get the report from the seminar and that would be the end of my career."

They both looked at me then.

As we were leaving the training room, Miranda stopped me.

"Since this is your last night here, I've set up reservations at The Empire Ballroom. It's a pretty fancy place, so we need to dress up a little. Your suit will be fine. I'll pick you up at six-thirty."

Miranda was right about the place. It wasn't very crowded, but every man there was in a suit and every woman, including Miranda, was dressed up like it was New Year's Eve. I'd been staring at her since I'd walked out of the hotel elevator and saw her.

Miranda's black dress fit her like a second skin, and stopped half-way down her slender thighs. It was held up by some little straps that left her soft, rounded shoulders bare and it was cut low enough she was showing a lot of cleavage. When I walked up to her, I said, "Wow. You look great." She'd smiled and said, "I was hoping you'd notice."

Dinner was different too. I'd never been in a place that had a wine steward, but this place had one. Miranda asked me if I liked wine, and I said I did, but I didn't know much about wine. She smiled and said she'd take care of it.

Dinner was good, though the portions were pretty small. I thought twenty dollars for six shrimp and four stalks of asparagus was pretty steep, but it didn't seem to bother Miranda. Neither did the thirty-five she paid for the bottle of wine. I turned down Miranda's offer of dessert. It looked good, but it was too rich for me.

When we'd finished eating, that wine bottle was still half full. Miranda paid the check with a credit card, then picked up the bottle.

"We...I mean, you can take this back to your hotel room if you want."

She had an odd look on her face. It was like she was anticipating something because her lips were parted. A second later, her little tongue slipped out enough to lick her upper lip.

I shook my head.

"No, I'm not much of a drinker anymore. It hurts too much the next morning. You go ahead and take it."

When we started for the door, another odd thing happened. Miranda slipped her arm in mine. When I looked at her, she smiled.

"Doesn't a man always offer his arm to his lady?"

I was getting the feeling that Miranda had an idea about how we might spend the rest of the evening. First it was the way she said "we" and then changed it to "you" when she was talking about the bottle of wine. Then it was the way she'd put her arm in mine and basically said she was my lady.

Well, that had me scared to death. I could just see word getting back to my boss that I'd slept with one of the women at the seminar. It wouldn't matter if Miranda wanted that or not. My boss was a pretty conservative guy. I might not get fired, but that would be the end of my career.

Miranda tried one more time before I got on the hotel elevator. She put her hand on my arm.

"You know, Mark, you're one of the nicest guys I've met in this job. It's going to be hard on me to see you leave. I guess I'll have to remember our dinners together, though I wish they could have been more...that is unless you have a better idea."

Well, Miranda had basically just invited herself to my room. I didn't want to make her feel like I didn't want her, but I didn't want to do anything to encourage her either.

"Nah, you'll forget about me when the next seminar starts. It has been nice being with you though. Well, I have to make the presentation tomorrow and I need to go over my notes. I'll see you in the morning."

I'd expected her to frown, but she was smiling when she walked away. That seemed odd too.

That night, I lay in bed thinking about what Miranda had said and done, and I was torn between kicking myself for not taking her up on what was obviously a proposal and congratulating my self for resisting. It had only been four days, but I'd gotten to really like Miranda and in the process had realized I hadn't had the same feelings for any other woman I'd ever dated.

That was a strange feeling for me. I'd always considered myself to be analytical and precise in everything. Now, I was still being analytical, but I wasn't finding a reason for how I felt and that was more than a little frustrating.

I'd slept with a couple of the women I'd dated, but I hadn't felt anything. Just thinking about having Miranda lying in bed with me had me wishing I had stopped trying to figure out what she meant and had just told her how I felt. If I had, maybe when the seminar was over, we could keep seeing each other. It was only about a four hour drive from Springfield to Chicago. Since I hadn't told her anything, that wasn't going to happen.

My presentation the next morning was short and to the point. I did drag it out a little with some summaries of our calculations, but after about five minutes, I looked at the instructor and said, "As this simulation was laid out, it can't work."

I thought he'd look upset, but he didn't. He just asked if I'd explain the problem.

"The problem is no matter where we buy the material and equipment, the cost including transportation comes out the same. That leaves the building and labor costs as the only variables that matter. With the selling price stated in the assumptions, the cash flow is all negative for at least ten years so there's no way to recoup the investment."

He just smiled and asked what the recommendations of my team would be.

We hadn't talked about that, so I decided to wing it. I'd probably never see Bruce or Collin again, so if they were pissed, so be it.

"The recommendation would be to abandon the project. Given the assumptions, there is no way to make the product profitable, much less achieve the cash flow and return on investment targets. It might be possible if all manufacturing were moved offshore, but I think even that's iffy because of transportation costs. Another possibility would be to enhance the product in some way that would enable the company to command a selling price high enough to offset the costs and make the product profitable."

The instructor didn't say anything. He just nodded and asked the other team to make their presentation. Their solution made the goals, but I knew they'd missed something. It turned out they'd forgotten to take the stated rate of inflation into account. After about five years, they'd be paying more for parts than the selling price.

After lunch, we got an official certificate of completion. An hour later, I was waiting for my flight to board.

On Monday morning, I walked into my bosses office and closed the door. He looked up and smiled.

"Ah, Mark, I see you made it through the seminar without being seriously hurt. What did you think of it?"

I spent the next ten minutes telling him I thought it was a waste of time and a waste of money. He just sat there and smiled.

When I finished, he put his hands together.

"Well, I'll talk to the CEO about this and see what he says. For all I know, he might agree with you. Oh, I almost forgot. He's coming down from Detroit on Wednesday for a quarterly review and he's scheduled an hour to talk with us about that project you're heading up. I've reserved one of the conference rooms for that meeting. It'll be at four unless he gets tied up on the shop floor for some reason. You should probably spend today and tomorrow putting together a presentation that shows where we are and where we're going."

I spent the next two days putting together a presentation with graphs and financial statements, and then had three copies printed and bound along with overhead projector slides for each page. On Wednesday at four, I took them to the conference room and then waited for fifteen minutes until my boss and the CEO walked in. We shook hands, my boss got a cup of coffee for him and the CEO, and then they sat down.

I stood up and turned on the overhead projector.

"Mister Jacobs, our project is a little behind schedule but still on budget, and we have a plan to get back on schedule. I think when you see that plan, you'll agree that the delay isn't serious enough to put the project in jeopardy of missing the deadline or target cost. Now, if you look at this progress chart, you'll see --"

Jacobs cut me off.

"Mark, I'll look at your plan on the plane, but I'm sure you're on the right track. Right now, I want to talk about the seminar you just finished. Jack here says you weren't very impressed, but I've been pretty impressed by their past performance with other people we've sent. Care to tell me why you didn't like it?"

I didn't know Jacobs very well. I'd sat through a few meetings with him -- quarterly reviews and such -- so I knew he didn't like people who tried to tell him what they thought he wanted to know. He also didn't like people telling him he was wrong, so I might be walking on thin ice. I decided to tell him what I thought. If he didn't like it, I'd at least have the satisfaction of knowing I didn't lie.

"Well, for starters, the instructors didn't teach anything I didn't already know. Most of it was basic engineering and cost calculations I'd expect any one of my engineers to already know. The simulations were basically worthless. The instructions were so ambiguous you could interpret them any way you wanted and the rules were so confining in most cases there wasn't any actual right answer. It was a waste of the corporation's money and a waste of my time."