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Section: Case Study
With a group of talented, hardworking people, why
isn't this team
working? The last thing Eric Holt had expected to miss about An all-nighter in Eric stepped inside his apartment and checked the clock:
only three more hours before he had to watch as Randy Louderback, FireArt's
charismatic director of sales and marketing, either dominated the group's
discussion or withdrew entirely, tapping his pen on the table to indicate his
boredom. Sometimes he withheld information vital to the group's debate; other
times he coolly denigrated people's comments. Still, Eric realized, Randy
held the group in such thrall because of his dynamic personality, his almost
legendary past, and his close relationship with FireArt's CEO that he could not be ignored. And at least
once during each meeting, he offered an insight about the industry or the
company that was so
perceptive that Eric knew he
shouldn't be ignored. As he prepared to leave for the office, Eric felt the
familiar frustration that had
started building during the team's first
meeting a month earlier. It was then that
Randy had first insinuated, with what sounded like a joke, that he wasn't
cut out to be a team player.
"Leaders lead, followers ... please pipe down!" had been his exact
words, although he had smiled winningly as he spoke, and the rest of the
group had laughed heartily in response. No one in the group was laughing now,
though, least of all Eric. FireArt, Inc., was in trouble- not deep trouble, but
enough for its CEO, Jack Derry, to make strategic repositioning Eric's top
and only task. The company, a family-owned maker of wine goblets, beer
steins, ashtrays, and other glass novelties had succeeded for nearly 80 years
as a high-quality, high-price producer, catering to hundreds of Midwestern
clients. It traditionally did big business every football season, selling
commemorative knickknacks to the fans of teams
such as the Fighting Irish, the Wolverines, and the Golden Gophers. In the
spring, there was always a rush of demand for senior prom items -- champagne
goblets emblazoned with a school's name or beer mugs with a school's crest,
for example. Fraternities and sororities were steady customers. Year after
year, FireArt showed respectable increases at the top and bottom lines,
posting $86 million in revenues and $3 million in earnings three years before
Eric arrived. In the last 18 months, though, sales and earnings had
flattened. Jack, a grandnephew of the company's founder, thought he knew what
was happening. Until recently, large national glass companies had been able
to make money only through mass production. Now, however, thanks to new
technologies in the glassmaking industry, those companies could execute short
runs profitably. They had begun to enter FireArt's niche, Jack had told Eric,
and, with their superior resources, it was just a matter of time before they
would own it. "You have one responsibility as FireArt's new
director of strategy," Jack had said to Eric on his first day. "That's to put together a team of our top people, one person from
each division, and have a comprehensive plan for the company's strategic
realignment up, running, and winning within six months." Eric had immediately compiled a list of the senior
managers from human resources, manufacturing, finance, distribution, design,
and marketing, and had set a date for the first meeting. Then, drawing on his
years as a consultant who had worked almost solely in team environments, Eric had carefully
prepared a structure and guidelines for the group's discussions,
disagreements, and decisions, which he planned to propose to the members for
their input before they began working together. Successful groups are part art, part science, Eric knew,
but he also believed that with
every member's full commitment, a team
proved the adage that the whole
is greater than the sum of its parts. Knowing that
managers at FireArt were unaccustomed to the team
process, however, Eric imagined he might get some resistance from one or two
members. For one, he had been worried about Ray LaPierre of manufacturing.
Ray was a giant of a man who had run the furnaces for some 35 years,
following in his father's footsteps. Although he was a former high school
football star who was known among workers in the factory for his hearty laugh
and his love of practical jokes, Ray usually didn't say much around FireArt's
executives, citing his lack of higher education as the reason. Eric had
thought the team atmosphere
might intimidate him. Eric had also anticipated a bit of a fight from Maureen
Turner of the design division, who was known to complain that FireArt didn't appreciate its
six artists. Eric had expected that Maureen
might have a chip on her shoulder about collaborating with people who didn't
understand the design process. Ironically, both those fears had proved groundless, but
another, more difficult problem had arisen. The wild card had turned out to
be Randy. Eric had met Randy once before the team
started its work and had found him to be enormously intelligent, energetic,
and good-humored. What's more, Jack Derry had confirmed his impressions,
telling him that Randy
"had the best mind" at FireArt. It was also from Jack that Eric had first learned of
Randy's hardscrabble yet inspirational personal history. Poor as a child, he had worked as a security guard and
short-order cook to put himself through the state college, from which he
graduated with top honors. Soon after, he started his own advertising and
market research firm in Those words echoed in Eric's mind as he sat, with
increasing anxiety, through the team's
first and second meetings. Though Eric had planned an agenda for each meeting
and tried to keep the discussions on track, Randy always seemed to find a way
to disrupt the process. Time and time again, he shot down other people's
ideas, or he simply didn't pay attention. He also answered most questions put
to him with maddening vagueness. "I'll have my assistant look into it
when he gets a moment," he replied when one team
member asked him to list FireArt's five largest customers. "Some days
you eat the bear, and other days the bear eats you," he joked another
time, when asked why sales to fraternities had recently nose-dived. Randy's negativism, however, was countered by occasional
comments so insightful that they
stopped the conversation cold or turned it around entirely -- comments that demonstrated extraordinary
knowledge about competitors or glass technology or customers' buying
patterns. The help wouldn't last, though, Randy would quickly revert to his
role as team renegade. The third meeting, last week, had ended in chaos. Ray
LaPierre, Maureen Turner, and the distribution director, Carl Simmons, had
each planned to present cost-cutting proposals, and at first it looked as
though the group were making good progress. Ray opened the meeting, proposing a plan for FireArt to
cut throughput time by 3% and raw-materials costs by 2%, thereby positioning
the company to compete better on price. It was obvious from his detailed
presentation that he had put a
lot of thought into his comments, and it was evident that he was fighting a certain amount
of nervousness as he made them. "I know I don't have the book smarts of most of you
in this room," he had begun, "but here goes anyway." During
his presentation, Ray stopped several times to answer questions from the team, and as he went on, his
nervousness transformed into his usual ebullience. "That wasn't so bad!" he laughed
to himself as he sat down at the end, flashing a grin at Eric. "Maybe we
can turn this old ship around." Maureen Turner had followed Ray. While not disagreeing
with him -- she praised his comments, in fact -- she argued that FireArt also needed to invest in
new artists, pitching its competitive advantage in better design and wider
variety. Unlike Ray, Maureen had made this case to FireArt's top executives
many times, only to be rebuffed, and some of her frustration seeped through
as she explained her reasoning yet again. At one point, her voice almost
broke as she described how hard she had worked in her first ten years at
FireArt, hoping that someone in
management would recognize the creativity of her designs. "But no one
did," she recalled with a sad shake of her head. "That's why when I was made director
of the department, I made sure all the artists were respected for what they
are -- artists, not worker ants. There's a difference, you know."
However, just as with Ray LaPierre, Maureen's comments lost their
defensiveness as the group members, with the exception of Randy, who remained
impassive, greeted her words with nods of encouragement. By the time Carl Simmons of distribution started to
speak, the mood in the room was approaching buoyant. Carl, a quiet and
meticulous man, jumped from his seat and practically paced the room as he
described his ideas. FireArt, he said, should play to its strength as a
service-oriented company and restructure its trucking system to increase the
speed of delivery. He described how a similar strategy had been adopted with
excellent results at his last job at a ceramics plant. Carl had joined
FireArt just six months earlier. It was when Carl began to describe those
results in detail that Randy
brought the meeting to an unpleasant halt by letting out a loud groan.
"Let's just do everything, why don't we, including redesign the kitchen
sink!" he cried with mock enthusiasm. That
remark sent Carl back quickly to his seat, where he halfheartedly summed up
his comments. A few minutes later, he excused himself, saying he had another
meeting. Soon the others made excuses to leave, too, and the room became
empty. No wonder Eric was apprehensive about the fourth meeting.
He was therefore surprised when he entered the room and found the whole
group, save Randy, already assembled. Ten minutes passed in awkward small talk, and, looking
from face to face, Eric could see his own frustration reflected. He also
detected an edge of panic -- just what he had hoped to avoid. He decided he
had to raise the topic of Randy's attitude openly, but just as he started,
Randy ambled into the room, smiling. "Sorry, folks," he said
lightly, holding up a cup of coffee as if it were explanation enough for his
tardiness. "Randy, I'm glad you're here," Eric began,
"because I think today we should begin by talking about the group itself
-- " Randy cut Eric off with a small, sarcastic laugh.
"Uh-oh, I knew this was going to happen," he said. Before Eric could answer, Ray LaPierre stood up and
walked over to Randy, bending over to look him in the eye. "You just don't care, do you?" he began, his
voice so angry it startled everyone in the room. Everyone except Randy. "Quite the contrary -- I care
very much," he answered breezily. "I just don't believe this is how
change should be made. A brilliant idea never came out of a team. Brilliant ideas come from
brilliant individuals, who then inspire others in the organization to
implement them." "That's a lot
of bull," Ray shot back. "You just want all the credit for the
success, and you don't want to share it with anyone." "That's
absurd," Randy laughed again. "I'm not trying to impress anyone
here at FireArt. I don't need to. I want this company to succeed as much as
you do, but I believe, and I believe passionately, that groups are useless. Consensus
means mediocrity. I'm sorry, but it does." "But you haven't even tried to reach consensus with
us," Maureen interjected. "It's as if you don't care what we all
have to say. We can't work alone for a solution -- we need to understand each
other. Don't you see that?" The room was silent as Randy shrugged his shoulders
noncommittally. He stared at the table, a blank expression on his face. It was Eric who broke the silence. "Randy, this is a
team. You are part of it," he
said, trying to catch Randy's eye without success. "Perhaps we should
start again -- " Randy stopped him by holding up his cup, as if making a
toast. "Okay, look, I'll behave from now on," he said. The words
held promise, but he was smirking as he spoke them -- something no one at the
table missed. Eric took a deep breath before he answered; as much as he
wanted and needed Randy Louderback's help, he was suddenly struck by the
thought that perhaps
Randy's personality and his past experiences simply made it impossible for
him to participate in the delicate process of ego surrender that any kind of teamwork requires. "Listen, everyone, I know this is a challenge,"
Eric began, but he was cut short by Randy's pencil-tapping on the table. A
moment later, Ray LaPierre was standing again. "Forget it. This is never going to work. It's just a
waste of time for all of us," he said, more resigned than gruff.
"We're all in this together, or there's no point." He headed for
the door, and before Eric could stop him, two others were at his heels. HBR's cases are derived from the experiences of real
companies and real people. As written, they are hypothetical, and the names
used are fictitious. |
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