BW Communities

How to Give Bad News And Other Ugly Tasks

BW Online Bureau Nov 08, 2014

<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><root available-locales="en_US," default-locale="en_US"><static-content language-id="en_US"><![CDATA[Manika Singh stared at the rush of life outside her Honda City, feeling numb and dull. The events of the day before bothered her. Yet the same event wore new clothes and came back at night and stood before her commanding her to examine her heart and give it a proper name. Manika was the newly appointed business head for Temple India's office products division (OPD), Temple's most high-profile business, most profitable yet most volatile. After the previous head, Chip Kalra, quit eight months ago, Temple had been hesitating to appoint his successor. The parent company in the US had been toying with the idea of an expat in that chair, but had finally persisted with Manika. One of the major responsibilities placed upon her was merging OPD's Alsora technologies, a not-very-vibrant unit, with OPD's technical division.   Manika worked closely with Alsora. Her assessment was: Alsora had great equity in the form of loyal teams, strong asset backing, potential... but a terrible head, Jamshed (Jimmy) Sangma. As COO, Manika worked with four different teams, including sales, finance/costing, logistics and operations. Jimmy, by virtue of his role as chief technical head, had been germane to many of these teams as their ‘supplier', and in every interaction involving optimisation, Jimmy had been the parantu (‘but then') factor. Jimmy was a sound technical man. He could see a product — simply ‘see' it — and tell you what was wrong with it. He had worked in three large MNCs before coming to Alsora, where he had been heading technology for six years. To understand a little of Jimmy Sangma. In the companies he had worked prior to Alsora, he had been seen as a sound tech man. The one job that had shone like a diamond in his favour was as factory chief for Delaware India, a large FMCG MNC, where Jimmy had been a steady resource, earning a great name for himself as a dependable technology man. This itself came as late as 2000 when post-liberalisation, Delaware had invested in computerised production and Jimmy had been sent to the US to learn the ropes. Then came a slew of new entrants to India and Jimmy bandied his ‘foreign education' and swung himself an excellent offer at a cola company, quit that for a bit more at Kansa, an IT company, where some strategic moves left him in an undesignated job, which Jimmy resented. So they gave him a golden handshake only to keep things quiet. Jimmy was 54 then. He decided to go home to Assam, when suddenly, an ex-colleague from Delaware offered him a job in Alsora, as head of its technology division. Jimmy was not sure if he wanted to get back to full-time working. But the offer was good, so he agreed. It would help him put three more nephews through post-grad education back home. Jimmy was aware that he was technically good. But there were pockets of behaviours that put off some team mates. No one ever said it overtly, but they all felt a certain displeasure working with him, the sort you cannot easily define yet you know it is derailing your speed. For example, Manika recalled the time Jimmy had been sent the tech specs for a new project. Bansi Jacob, one of Jimmy's close assistants, had asked to see it and Jimmy had said he was working on it and could not pass it on. Whereas truth was that Jimmy was not working with it then. On another occasion, when Nomita Vaidee, another MT had come up with a suggestion to rework a persistently failing module, based on some model she and others in the team knew about, Jimmy had turned cold and distant and said, "You guys just go and learn all these smart models and formula and think it is magic and can turn in success! Success is not instant noodles! One has to work on it." Manika recalled talking to Nomita over lunch. The youngster said, "If you ask me to bake a cake for my son's birthday, I would buy a Betty Crocker and bung it all together. My mom? She begins with going out to buy fresh flour... and slaves over every little detail. Jimmy feels that a thing is good if we do it the way it was done in the 20th century. I don't think so. Well," she sighed, "I guess we have to deal with that..." Another aspect of Jimmy's that stood out was that he had retired from an active career and then made a come-back. Jimmy was, what they called, a second innings manager. No, Jimmy was nowhere near retirement, yet, at Alsor, he seemed to live in the past. As Manika said to G. Kannan, her colleague, "Does he really need this job, is not a fair question. But if he really needed this job, he would get on to the learning curve. He develops the attitude of a boss... likes to be one… which really means he wants to be in correction mode, reprimanding mode, being-critical mode. But if he was a real ‘boss', he would appreciate a good suggestion, that is what I feel." Manika was 39 and dealt with young fresh MBAs all the time. So many of these kids, who are 4-5 years out of B-school, knew so much. Even I realise they know so much, because what they say to me is fresh and charming and new. So I work with them, extracting some good, applying it, testing it, using their strengths, plus giving them the experience that made me strong. break-page-break Kannan said, "These young people are closer to the age of his children probably, hence he shifts to dad-mode where you typically argue, challenge, question and sometimes rubbish your child!" Yet her own boss, Shankar Kashyap, was also another reengineered post-liberalisation, post-VRS manager. But he was so different: empowering, delegating, engaging, challenging, enabling. Even when he rejected her ideas, he had good reason to do so. But then Shankar had been a success in his last organisation. Did that make the difference then? Jimmy had never reached a height in any of his previous organisations and had been given the golden handshake because the merged company had no use for him. Are these where the real DNA of behaviour lie? Manika often had to grapple with strange behaviour among some of the team players. For instance, his ‘devotees' seemed to have formed a coterie around Jimmy, calling him ‘boss'. At Temple, such language jarred. Vinay Kaushal, one of the senior officers, had once casually remarked: "It seems to work for those who treat him like that!" But all that was leading to some unhealthy patterns, she felt. The more junior ones carried tales to him, complained about silly little things, conjectured and drivelled... there was no need for that. But worse, this was creating a fissure, a wall of ‘them and us'.  Last month, just as Manika was preparing to take over OPD as COO, the merger of Alsor was placed as priority before her. Temple's HR had then asked her to look closely at the headcounts and let them know if any of them could be easily retired. And soon after her assessment of Alsor, they asked her what she thought of Jimmy. Manika had opened her mouth to speak when Karl Kapadia said, "We are considering retiring him..." and she had said, "Yes, he needs to be replaced." They then exchanged some notes on the overall management of the retirees, the ones being retained, how the remuneration should now be fixed... and there it ended. That evening, Manika met Kannan in the board room for a presentation on the revised organisation structure. He took her aside and said, "I understand Jimmy is going... I mean no doubt he is ‘difficult', but surely that is not your reason? I think he is a good guy! Unless you take your assessment of second innings people seriously?" Manika: I do, actually. I do have a viewpoint on what a second innings chap can potentially do to a culture. But that is not my reason to ask Jimmy to be retired. Jimmy is a dreadful team player. He is unwilling to allow new ideas. He needs reassurance that he is good, it would seem, if you observe the coteries around him! Kannan: Arindam Sharma (ex-MD) was like that... he did quite well for himself. It is social behaviour... Manika: No! It is organisational behaviour. You may have a psychological need for adulation, but if that leads to sub-optimal organisational performance, that is incorrect. Kannan: So was Arindam Sharma suboptimising organisational performance? Manika: I didn't say that. Besides he was a powerful thinker, a brilliant strategist...  the coterie was more communal. He liked to see his natives near him... and you are comparing Arindam Sharma with Jimmy? Kannan: Jimmy is a good guy. He is not dandy, or extrovert, but inside lurks a solid tech guy... that is why he was hired here. But you seem to have already labelled him second innings. Manika: The organisation is at a stage where it has terrific young people, with great knowledge, great ideas but lacking mental discipline, lacking work ethics, sometimes even manners. The reason organisations hire the second innings guys is because today companies are growing faster than they can, taking decisions more hastily than is good, hiring people sooner than they can ably shoulder senior jobs. The market is crazier than it was, the profits tucked in are fabulously deceptive and the young are facing all this too early, and importantly, without the right tempering. The second innings manager is a great asset to organisations on the rise. They carry with them, like Jimmy does, great intelligence and knowledge. They want these Jimmys to come and set the pace, inject discipline and order, but gently. They want them to sift the slew of decisions and moderate it... temper it. But if the second innings manager is already arriving with baggage, who is he helping? Kannan: Think about it. I think you may be hasty. After all, you are the one working closely with him, you should know... Exactly, thought Manika, then why are you standing in judgement? That night her family had gathered a few friends for dinner to celebrate her new position at work. While everyone was all laughter and smart clothes and excited (as if they had won the promotion), Manika felt confused. Have I done wrong? began her mind... That was the dark moment for her. Standing behind the huge bamboo tree on her veranda, Manika held her arms tight around herself and chewed her lip. The rest of the evening was a blur. By 9.45 pm, Manika had had enough and prayed that the friends and family would leave without demanding too much ho ho ho. Next morning, she called Shankar Kashyap.  "I am assailed by a thought," she said. "Can someone take an independent decision on Jimmy Sangma and disregard mine?' Shankar was hugely confused. "What is all this? Where is it coming from?" Manika: From diffidence. From the fear of causing damage. Shankar: And you think you may have done wrong in agreeing to Jimmy's termination? Manika: Shankar, my assessment was based on his potential to improve his contribution. Given the demands of the market, the need for quick turnarounds, and the targets for next five years, I felt Jimmy is slowing us down. Yes, from the standpoint of emotional health of the organisation, too, I felt he is causing some unhealthy trends here... but he is a good guy. Shankar: But he is a good guy? Like ‘But Brutus was an honorable man!' Manika: Shankar, not like that, please! Jimmy is a ‘good human being', implies I do not have a complaint with his moral profile. It is his ability to be a good team player and contributor that I question... many others in the team are also disconcerted. He won't share information, will dodge, will not leave himself open to new thoughts and ideas, and is sort of feudal... Shankar: Do you think it could have something to do with having to report to a lady boss? Let's put things on the table Manika and see if we can sort the apples and the oranges... Jimmy has behavioural issues, okay. Is there a gender crisis? Are the dynamics of a lady boss and male subordinate causing all this? Manika: No. I have not sensed that at all. In all gender situations, there are some superficial discomforts and some deep-rooted discomforts. The superficial ones fade away soon as the environment evolves and grows around the senior lady's dynamics. Yet, funnily, the superficial ones are a precursor to what could lie deep within, the deep-rooted ones. In Jimmy's case, the superficial ones are normal. My moving to Office Products may have troubled him, especially after having had Chip Kalra. But it is something that will settle down. break-page-break But there is something else that Temple needs to address which is beyond gender, Shankar. Which concerns men and women managers. It is this ability to manage difficult decisions without getting entangled with emotion and social drama.... Shankar (laughing aloud): Wow wow wow. I like this. Please say more... Manika: Shankar, we need to really template our behaviours for such moments. If not, we will never be able to do the difficult. Why is it that when we have to sack someone for non-performance, we get tangled and knotted? I am really frustrated. I am clear he has to go and then suddenly there is a question thrown at me, ‘Are you sure?' ‘He is a good chap...' Yes, he is, but it is not working for me! To run this show, I need people who are working from the intellect, not through a baggage of angst! It is not about young or old, it is about can or cannot. Shankar: Let me share with you. Two years ago, I had a marketing person in my team — very good man, intellectual, hardworking... all these are attributes that you bookmark as ‘must-haves'. Point is your hardworking and my hardworking and his hardworking are all different. Yet they all are ‘hardworking'. This chap, let us call him X, was draining me with his vagueness. I could ask for something and he would say, ‘Yes I will do it...' but he would say that every time I asked for it. Which meant he never committed to a date, never indicated his delivery, never told me what he was facing;  He was older than me, had been my peer earlier in another division. There was a certain ‘hmm' quality to him, where all replies were an expression of wonder. So one never knew whether he was saying yes, no, can, cannot or go to hell. Believe me, it drove me up the wall. I took him out for a beer and told him what he needs to do about his communication, etc. He only nodded! To cut a long story short, the team had a breakdown when a task which had to be delivered got derailed because X, who had the information, did not reveal it, even knowing that the younger teams were going into the hinterland to rebuild the data. <img src="/businessworld/system/files/13-june-case2-mdm.jpg" width="200" height="200" style="float: right; margin: 5px;"> When a 360 was done and his case went into red, Tarla Saran of HR and her team asked me, ‘Is he good?' and definitely the question was about his goodness for the company as a higher goal. I said, he is intellectual, hardworking, single-pointed... none of which meant ‘he is good for my organisational purpose'. Somewhere I was saying, ‘He is not a nice guy, but he is intelligent.' "But don't you need nice + intelligent? How else can I ensure efficient team play? Then another of Saran's managers met me again to help me interpret the appraisal for him. This time I said, "He is zero personally, negative as a team player, BUT, he is intellectually capable." What was I doing? Dodging my guilt. Why guilty? Because somewhere inside I could not reconcile with saying this resource is not adding value, we need to replace. But each time I was seeing a human being, feeling bad that he had lost his wife, reasoned in my head that he needs to keep working (good Lord!), felt bad that I had to declare him dead stock... see? Manika: Heck... I know what you mean. Shankar: Manika... I was applying what I learnt from that interaction, on you. Because I could see exactly where you were coming unstuck. Saran & Co were asking me a simple question: should we retain him? I gave them facts — negative team player, zero personally, not a nice guy, but intelligent. All facts. But they didn't want facts! They wanted a decision!Manika (laughing full throated in relief): Yes! This is my problem, too! You are saying we are unable to take a decision, right? In fact, I don't want to. If it were possible, I would like to return him to HR and say, ‘Not working, doosra dey do!' But as a senior manager, I am expected to know what to do with a resource that does not work! And this I am saying Shankar, is an Indian phenomena; we do not know how to deliver bad news without identifying with it! Anyway complete your story... finally what happened? Shankar: Well, here was an opportunity to let him go. To remove a non-working part from the whole. But HR heard what they wanted to: he is intelligent. So they kept him! They heard much more than what I was saying. They concluded that ‘X is intelligent and Shankar is responsible for X being a poor team player!' So, he stayed on and continued to pull the team back! Manika: Wow! Does HR not hear or do they hear what is convenient for the time being? Shankar: I think HR has a template with a ‘standard manager' design. That standard manager is expected to be smart, savvy and perfect. Which means if he has a bad egg in his team, he knows how to say: ‘no, we should not retain him.' That is a cue for sacking the bad egg. Anything else you say is construed to mean: ‘keep him'. When it is as simple as that, why are we so confounded when we have to say, ‘You are fired'? Classroom Discussion ‘Guilt is regret for what we have done. Regret is guilt for what we didn't do.' — anon casestudymeera(at)gmail(dot)com (This story was published in Businessworld Issue Dated 13-06-2011)