Thursday, July 25, 2024

Keep your customers informed!

Mistakes are a fact of life. Even with a very good Quality system, things still go wrong: accidents happen, and people do foolish things. Therefore every Quality system has to spell out (among other things) how to respond when something bad happens. "How to respond" typically includes several elements: containing the problem, finding the root cause, implementing corrective actions, and so on. But there's another element that can be just as important, but that is often overlooked: Let your customers know what's going on!

A friend of mine drives a Kia Soul. She's had it for years. Last fall, Kia notified her that her car was subject to a recall. According to the official documentation (NHTSA campaign number 23V652000): 

"The Hydraulic Electronic Control Unit (HECU) may experience an electrical short, which can result in an engine compartment fire while parked or driving.... Owners are advised to park outside and away from structures until the recall repair is complete."

So far, so good. Kia discovered a risk and proactively notified customers so they are aware of it. And of course Kia explained that they will repair the vehicles free of charge. 

What the notice did not contain was an estimated date that the fix would be available. And as the months went on, all my friend heard was more silence. From time to time she called her local dealership, but they were as much in the dark as she was.

To be clear, I can imagine reasons why Kia might have found it hard to give a precise date right at the beginning. And if the issue were comparatively minor—if, say, they were offering a new design of floor mats or steering wheel covers—there would be no reason to handle the communications with urgency. But when you have just told your customers there's a chance that their car will unexpectedly burst into flame, it's probably a good idea to keep them well-informed and up-to-date on when they can expect the fix to be available.

Let your customers know what's going on.

The good news is that—according to the NHTSA website—letters finally started going out late this spring and into the summer that the fix was available. They were staged according to model type, and my friend's model came at the very end of the line. So she still has to make arrangements with her local dealership. But it's progress. 

               

Thursday, July 18, 2024

The Ladder of Inference

The other day, a message in one of the ASQ forums pointed me to a short video (under four minutes) about a psychological concept called The Ladder of Inference. Apparently this idea has been current for years, but somehow I missed it. But it was coined by the business theorist Chris Argyris, and it neatly summarizes how our perceptions and assumptions interact to generate beliefs and actions.

The Ladder of Inference has six or seven rungs. (The video below lists only six, but other sources online give a seventh.) They proceed, from the bottom up, as follows:

  • observable data
  • selected data
  • interpretations or meanings (This level is silently dropped in the video.)
  • assumptions
  • conclusions
  • beliefs
  • actions

Expressed in more narrative form, the idea is that our minds operate like this:

  • I start by perceiving stuff out there in the world.
  • There's lots of stuff going on and I can't possibly track it all, so I select a small subset to focus on and forget the rest. 
  • I use this small subset of the data I've perceived to generate interpretations. These are just stories I tell myself about what the data mean.
  • I use these interpretations to build operating assumptions for approaching the world.
  • Then I use the assumptions I have built up to evaluate new data in order to form conclusions about what is happening around me.
  • These conclusions harden into beliefs.
  • And finally my beliefs are the background underlying the actions that I take in the world.

But the fun part is that this whole structure is self-sustaining, because I use my assumptions and beliefs as a filter to simplify the selection of new data. Once I have built up a certain set of beliefs (never mind how they got there or how bizarre they might be), I use those beliefs in the ongoing process of perceiving new stuff. Therefore when I select which data I'm going to remember, I tend naturally to choose whatever agrees with the beliefs I already hold. If you ask me how I can be so sure of those beliefs, I tell you that I see them confirmed every single day. And in a literal sense, that's absolutely true! Of course you might think my beliefs are pretty weird. But because I use those beliefs to cherry-pick which data I bother to remember—and because the whole process takes place subconsciously—I remain convinced all the while that my crazy beliefs are perfectly empirical.

It gets better. Remember that my beliefs are the basis for my actions. If my beliefs are weird, my actions might be a little weird too. Those actions will cause others to react to me in a certain way, and from their reactions I derive new perceptions with which to start the cycle all over again.

How can we get out of this trap? By recognizing how the process works, and then taking steps to make it less automatic.

First, I should question my assumptions and conclusions. I should watch to see what kinds of data I regularly select and remember; and also what kinds of data do I regularly reject or forget?

Second, when I notice all my data tends in a common direction, I should seek out contrary data on purpose. If there is none, well and good. But if I can find it, then it's time to relax my assumptions and broaden my beliefs. 

As a method, this sounds simple to describe. It's no more than disciplined skepticism, or what I have described elsewhere as "the scientific method applied to business." (See for example this post or this one.) But that doesn't mean it is always easy to do.

                                 

Thursday, July 11, 2024

What are you really measuring?

We've all heard that you can't manage what you can't measure. But it's important to know what you are really measuring.

Back in 2015, the Dubai Police Department implemented a system to measure employee happiness. (For more details, see the 7-minute YouTube video below.) The idea was to allow the organization to respond to problems that interfered with employee job-satisfaction. In principle, this motivation was a good one: this is why some companies set out Suggestion Boxes. But the Dubai PD wanted something a little more innovative.

What they settled on was a pop-up loaded onto every employee's PC, which runs at startup every morning. The pop-up asks the employee to rate his level of happiness by selecting one of three options: Sad, Neutral, or Happy. Then if the employee selects Sad or Neutral, the application offers a free text field where the employee explains what's wrong. These answers are forwarded to the Happiness and Wellbeing Department, who checks in with the employee and then forwards the issue to whichever department can address it. Departments receiving these issues have to respond within five days.

According to the video, results have been positive. The overall trend in the metrics has shown consistent improvement in employee happiness. What is more, when there have been problems in the organization, this tool surfaces them quickly so they can be addressed. The narrator specifically states that the tool has enabled constructive feedback and that it facilitates organizational transparency. All of these results are clearly to the good.

At the same time—is it just me, or is it clear that the tool isn't really measuring happiness? Happiness, after all, has many components. Someone might be reasonably content at work but unhappy because of problems at home: what will he select when he starts his PC? If he reports Sad, then he has to explain why he's sad; and if it's something personal, he might not want to talk about it. So he clicks Happy, because that is the fastest way to get past the prompt. Someone else might feel disgruntled because he thinks his boss is a jerk; but the reports from the tool are designed not to be anonymous, so he might not be comfortable saying so. Again, clicking Happy is the fastest and easiest way to get past the prompt. No wonder that over time, more and more people click Happy.

Of course the answer to this criticism is that the tool was never meant to promote Happiness as a State of Being in some ultimate, metaphysical sense. What the pop-up really means to ask is, "Are you facing some organizational problem that you would like us to solve?" If you've got such a problem—if your last paycheck was late or there's a difficulty with your health insurance—say so. If you currently have no organizational problems that you need an internal ombudsman to solve, then—in this context, at least—you are Happy. And you can say so.

Under this contextual definition of "happiness," it sounds like a useful tool. But it is good to remember what the tool is really measuring.   


  

               

Thursday, July 4, 2024

Boeing again, and the power of systems thinking

It seems like Boeing just can’t stay out of the news these days. 

What’s an airline to do?

Asking the wrong question

I wrote, “What’s an airline to do?” but it’s not clear if that’s even the right question. Let’s think about it for a minute.

Of course, it’s difficult to turn around a whole organization, especially one as large as Boeing. Growing or healing a Quality culture is a big task, and it requires coordinating a lot of elements—even something as trivial as a box of doughnuts can help make a difference. If this were the first time that Boeing had had problems, we might expect the turnaround to take a while.

But it’s not the first time. Boeing’s Quality and safety cultures have gotten worldwide attention at any rate since the crashes of Lion Air 610 in October, 2018, and of Ethiopian Airlines 302 in March, 2019. And internal discussions had already begun years before those crashes. Boeing whistleblower John Barnett testified that he began raising Quality complaints internally back in 2011.

So if the deficiencies in Boeing’s Quality and safety cultures have been well-known for over a decade, why has the company seemingly made so little progress?

A couple of months ago in this blog, we looked at how the Mayo Clinic built their Quality culture, one that continues to be healthy and effective. One of the critical elements that made the Quality initiative succeed was solid, long-term management support. Barnett and others (including other whistleblowers) have said—to put it gently—that Boeing’s management did not offer the same kind of support when Quality concerns were raised. Their focus was profitability, pure and simple.  

The funny part is, you would think that a focus on profitability ought to be enough, if only the management took a wider perspective. When customers suffer from a bad product, they sue; their damages come out of the company’s profits. When courts convict companies of criminal activities, they assess fines; those fines are paid out of the company’s profits. Besides, as we discussed with respect to the Mayo Clinic, a reputation for high Quality can itself be a key to increased profitability. Surely if only Boeing’s management were sufficiently enlightened, they would do the right things out of self-interest. Wouldn’t they? Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?

Empirically, it doesn’t seem to.     

So maybe the real question is, What’s a judge to do? Boeing has already been assessed $2.5 billion in criminal penalties; they have been subject to litigation more or less continually since the Lion Air crash; and there is no clear evidence that anything meaningful has changed. If the DOJ prosecutors have their way and Boeing is assessed another $24 billion, do we really think that will finally make the difference, when other fines and damages have failed? Or will Boeing just write it off as a cost of doing business? 

One of the recurring lessons in the Quality profession is the need to study the objective consequences of the measures we take—in other words, to assess the effectiveness of our corrective actions. If we keep doing the same thing to fix a problem and it keeps not working, the odds are pretty good that doubling down one more time isn’t going to help. Assessing fines on corporate malefactors—not just Boeing, but others as well—doesn’t seem to make much difference. Maybe it’s time to try something else.

The systems perspective

We’re often encouraged to take a “systems perspective” to solve Quality problems, though it’s not always obvious what that means in practice. But I recently ran across an example in an unexpected place. In my spare time, I’ve been reading The Dictator’s Handbook: Why Bad Behavior Is Almost Always Good Politics, by Bruce Bueno de Mesquita and Alastair Smith.* One topic they discuss is government corruption (e.g., bribes); and they point out that enacting strict laws against corruption is, by itself, not nearly enough to curtail it.** (To be very clear, I am NOT accusing Boeing executives or the FAA of corruption! But this example is meant to show how a systems perspective can illuminate questions about enforcement in general.)

Why are those laws not enough? Well, they have to be enforced by someone in the government administration. So in case the administration is also corrupt (and in some countries it is), they will not enforce laws against their friends or allies. In such countries, strict anti-corruption laws are no more than a tool that the administration can use to weed out the disloyal by engaging in very selective prosecution for something that in reality everyone does.

What Bueno de Mesquita and Smith explain is that the best way to root out corruption is to increase the number of voters that the government depends on to keep power. In an autocracy or an oligarchy, where the administration depends on a tiny number of backers, they can afford to reward those people through corruption in exchange for support. But if more people are allowed to vote, then the number of supporters needed to keep a government in power grows much larger. It then becomes pragmatically impossible to pay so many for their votes. And at that point, the anti-corruption laws can finally do their job and the prevalence of corruption starts to recede because the system no longer supports it.

This is a systems argument! And while (once again) I’m certainly not accusing anyone at Boeing of corruption, I think the example highlights how we need to approach the problem of bringing our largest and most powerful corporations to heel. Working inside the existing system by assessing fines doesn’t appear to offer much traction. The alternative is to apply some other kind of pressure to any of the very few points where there is a chance for some leverage.  

An alternative to fines

The proposal that follows is only an example, but it relies on the same kinds of systems thinking that Bueno de Mesquita and Smith use. I owe this example to the blogger and public intellectual John Michael Greer, and I will quote his description extensively in what follows.***

Greer starts by pointing out that in certain parts of Europe during the early Middle Ages, most legal punishments took the form of fines (weregild)—the same way that our courts assess fines on corporations today. Someone who injured or murdered someone else could make restitution to the victim’s family by paying the appropriate amount of money, with no additional penalty. Unsurprisingly, this arrangement meant that the very rich could commit murder uninhibited, as long as they could afford the fine. Over time, the laws changed and weregild was replaced by imprisonment or execution. Greer’s proposal is that—since a corporation is presumed to be a “legal person”—we could make similar changes in corporate law today. He describes it like this:

Imagine that a corporation—we’ll call it the Shyster Company—has just been caught deliberately selling worthless securities to widows and orphans. The district attorney files charges of felony fraud and theft in state court. The trial date arrives, the lawyers bicker, the jury finds the defendant guilty as charged, and the judge sentences the corporation to ten years in the slammer. In practice, what happens is that the judge appoints a trustee, who takes control of Shyster and all its assets. For the next ten years, Shyster is a wholly owned subsidiary of the state government. Its stock pays no dividends and has no voting rights, its directors have to find something else to do with their time, and if the trustee decides that the CEO and other overpaid office fauna get to find new jobs, they get to find new jobs—assuming that they’re not doing time themselves, as they very well could be. All profits earned by Shyster during its period of imprisonment go to the state government, subject to set-asides that pay restitution to the victims of the crime.

Meanwhile another conglomerate—we’ll call this one Dirty Rotten Scoundrel Inc.—has been caught knowingly selling food products tainted with deadly bacteria, and a dozen people have died. This time the district attorney files charges of aggravated first degree murder. The trial date arrives, the media has a field day, the lawyers bicker, the jury returns a verdict of guilty as charged, the judge sentences DRSI to death and the appeals court upholds the sentence. In practice, what happens is that on the scheduled date of execution, DRSI ceases to exist. Its stock becomes worthless, its assets are sold off in an auction in which no former shareholder is allowed to bid, its name and trademarks can never again be used by anybody under penalty of law, and its creditors get whatever scraps are left once the victims’ families receive their settlements.

OK, I guess it’s an entertaining story, but where is the systems thinking?

Fair question: Greer explains that next. 

It’s crucial that the stockholders in both cases, and the creditors in the latter case, suffer for the behavior of the corporation…. Thus under this system, if word gets out that a corporation is pushing the limits of legality, the stockholders have a very strong incentive to sell, driving down the value of the stock. Equally, if lenders become aware that a corporation is engaging in really egregious behavior, they have a very strong incentive to charge higher interest rates or even to stop loaning money to the corporation. Neither has any such incentive under the current system, which is one reason why corporations act as though their quarterly profit statements are the only things that matter. To their stockholders and creditors, this is essentially the case; this proposal would change that.

In other words, this proposal changes the incentives that a corporation faces by applying leverage to the corporation’s stock price and its access to liquidity. This kind of leverage might make a difference.****

Would this help?

Of course I can’t know for sure whether laws like this would encourage Boeing to handle its Quality culture more conscientiously. In the short run, the chain of causality is probably too long to have an immediate effect. 

On the other hand, if one of these penalties ever were to be invoked, it would likely mean a wholesale change of the company’s top management. And if the management understood that risk today, they might be more willing to take the Quality culture seriously. As Samuel Johnson once remarked, “When a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully.”

Meanwhile if you have other proposals that take adequate account of the systems incentives which drive Boeing’s management, I’d love to hear them. Please leave a comment.        

_____

* (New York: PublicAffairs, Hachette Book Group, 2011, 2022). 

** See especially Chapter 6.

*** Quotations are all from John Michael Greer, The Wealth of Nature: Economics as if Survival Mattered, 2nd ed. (Founders House Publishing LLC, 2021), pp. 213-215. An earlier draft of the same proposal can be found in an archived blogpost here, dating from January, 2010.

**** Greer says more about the legal and political aspects of his proposal in the sources cited above.

 

Five laws of administration

It's the last week of the year, so let's end on a light note. Here are five general principles that I've picked up from working ...