EXCERPTS:
Delusion One: The Halo Effect The tendency to look at a company’s overall performance and make attributions about its culture, leadership, values, and more. In fact, many things we commonly claim drive company performance are simply attributions based on prior performance.
Delusion Two: The Delusion of Correlation and Causality Two things may be correlated, but we may not know which one causes which. Does employee satisfaction lead to high performance? The evidence suggests it’s mainly the other way around—company success has a stronger impact on employee satisfaction.
Delusion Three: The Delusion of Single Explanations Many studies show that a particular factor—strong company culture or customer focus or great leadership—leads to improved performance. But since many of these factors are highly correlated, the effect of each one is usually less than suggested.
Delusion Four: The Delusion of Connecting the Winning Dots If we pick a number of successful companies and search for what they have in common, we’ll never isolate the reasons for their success, because we have no way of comparing them with less successful companies.
Delusion Five: The Delusion of Rigorous Research If the data aren’t of good quality, it doesn’t matter how much we have gathered or how sophisticated our research methods appear to be.
Delusion Six: The Delusion of Lasting Success Almost all high-performing companies regress over time. The promise of a blueprint for lasting success is attractive but not realistic.
Delusion Seven: The Delusion of Absolute Performance Company performance is relative, not absolute. A company can improve and fall further behind its rivals at the same time.
Delusion Eight: The Delusion of the Wrong End of the Stick It may be true that successful companies often pursued a highly focused strategy, but that doesn’t mean highly focused strategies often lead to success.
Delusion Nine: The Delusion of Organizational Physics Company performance doesn’t obey immutable laws of nature and can’t be predicted with the accuracy of science—despite our desire for certainty and order.
“We don’t mind if others put a halo on us, but we never want to be fooled by our success. We need to understand what drives our success, and strive to do better.” ICICI’s leaders wanted to focus on the real drivers of performance for a financial institution and not merely infer that they were doing well at execution or customer service just because the overall results were strong. They didn’t want to be taken in by the Halo of their own success.
Is delusion too strong a word? I don’t think so. A longtime friend of mine, Dick Stull, explains the difference between illusion and delusion this way. When Michael Jordan appears to hang motionless in midair for a split second while on his way to a slam-dunk, that’s an illusion. Your eyes are playing tricks on you. But if you think you can lace up a pair of Nikes, grab a basketball, and be like Mike, well, that’s a delusion.
The delusions I describe in this book are a bit like that—they’re promises that you can achieve great success if you just do one thing or another, but they’re fundamentally flawed. In fact, some of the biggest business blockbusters of recent years contain not one or two, but several delusions. For all their claims of scientific rigor, for all their lengthy descriptions of apparently solid and careful research, they operate mainly at the level of storytelling. They offer tales of inspiration that we find comforting and satisfying, but they’re based on shaky thinking. They’re deluded.
The business world is full of people who are plenty smart—clever, quick of mind, and conversant in current management concepts. In short supply are managers who are wise—by which I mean discerning, reflective, and able to judge what’s correct and what’s wrong.
One of my role models here is the late Herbert Simon, father of artificial intelligence, Nobel Prize winner in economics for his work on decision making, and professor at Carnegie Mellon University from the late 1940s until his death in 2001. In his memoirs, Models of My Life, Simon described how his service on several foreign fact-finding missions in the 1960s, often time-consuming and very costly, led him to formulate his Travel Theorem, which goes like this: Anything that can be learned by a normal American adult on a trip to a foreign country (of less than one year’s duration) can be learned more quickly, cheaply, and easily by visiting the San Diego Public Library.
Another of the wise men whose voice appears in these pages, the physicist Richard Feynman, once remarked that many fields have a tendency for pomposity, to make things seem deep and profound.
It’s as if the less we know, the more we try to dress things up with complicated-sounding terms. We do this in countless fields, from sociology to philosophy to history to economics—and it’s definitely the case in business.
Chris Zook at Bain & Company argued in his 2001 book, Profit from the Core, that companies often do best when they focus on relatively few products for a clear segment of customers. When companies get into very different products or go after very different sets of customers, the results often aren’t pretty. But here’s the catch: Exactly how do we define a company’s core?
The social psychologist Eliot Aronson observed that people are not rational beings so much as rationalizing beings.
Richard Feynman once defined science as “a method for trying to answer questions which can be put into the form: If I do this, what will happen?” Science isn’t about beauty or truth or justice or wisdom or ethics.
They’re better described as pseudoscience. Richard Feynman had an even more memorable phrase: Cargo Cult Science. Here’s the way Feynman described it: In the South Seas there is a cult of people. During the war they saw airplanes land with lots of materials, and they want the same thing to happen now. So they’ve arranged to make things like runways, to put fires along the sides of the runways, to make a wooden hut for a man to sit in, with two wooden pieces on his head like headphones and bars of bamboo sticking out like antennas—he’s the controller—and they wait for the airplanes to land. They’re doing everything right. The form is perfect. But it doesn’t work. No airplanes land. So I call these things Cargo Cult Science, because they follow all the apparent precepts and forms of scientific investigation, but they’re missing something essential, because the planes don’t land. That’s not to say that Cargo Cult Science doesn’t have some benefits.
Show me a company that has fallen on hard times, and I can always find some reason to explain why the leader failed.
All of which brings to mind a 1964 Supreme Court case about free speech and pornography, in which Justice Potter Stewart memorably wrote that while he could not provide a good definition of hard-core pornography, “I know it when I see it.” Since good leadership is usually difficult to identify in the absence of data about performance, it seems that leadership is even more difficult to recognize than is hard-core pornography—which at least Justice Stewart knew when he saw it.
But when some researchers took a closer look, they found that Fortune’s Most Admired ratings were heavily influenced by a Halo Effect.
Foster and Kaplan conclude: “McKinsey’s long-term studies of corporate birth, survival, and death in America clearly show that the corporate equivalent of El Dorado, the golden company that continually performs better than the markets, has never existed. It is a myth. Managing for survival, even among the best and most revered corporations, does not guarantee strong long-term performance for shareholders. In fact, just the opposite is true. In the long run, the markets always win” (Italics in the original).
The Delusion of Absolute Performance is hugely important because it suggests that companies can achieve high performance by following a simple formula, regardless of the actions of competitors.
Add together these three factors—uncertain customer demand, unpredictable competitors, and changing technology—and it becomes clear why strategic choice is inherently risky.
Anyone who claims to have found laws of business physics either understands little about business, or little about physics, or both.
Any good strategy involves risk. If you think your strategy is foolproof, the fool may well be you.
Chance often plays a greater role than we think, or than successful managers usually like to admit.