Read Online Critical Chain: A Business Novel by Eliyahu M. Goldratt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Eliyahu M. Goldratt
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continue to refuse to address the issue. The business schools will tumble anyway, and if we don't start to trim now, the trauma will be much bigger. The business schools might take down other departments with them. We have responsibility for hundreds, for thousands of people."
"I know. Believe me, I know. But Bernie, I cannot do it. Not even the first step. I tried to bring myself to stop granting tenure. Our business school qualified eight candidates. I read their files. Not much is there, but from the little there is you can see how hard they had to work for it. How many years they devoted. I can picture their families. I can picture how it will ruin them.
"Don't misunderstand me," she adds. "I don't have any problem getting rid of a person who is not carrying his weight. Nobody will accuse me of being softhearted, but these people deserve better. They are good, bright, hard-working people."
"When you are in charge of an omelet you have to break eggs."
"Let somebody else break people," she says bitterly. "I'm thinking of resigning."
B.J. is not a person to say such a thing lightly. With effort, he restrains himself from referring to her shocking statement and says, "You don't break them. You do them a big favor."
She almost chokes.
"Listen to me," he continues in a harsh voice. "Let them get out now. They are young. They are bright. They will carve themselves a good niche. Every year that you allow them to stay diminishes their chances. The market will be less appreciative of their knowledge and they will be less able to adapt."
She doesn't answer. Five minutes later, she puts her hand on his. "Can you please return to the airport. I can still catch the six o'clock flight."
They drive in silence.
When she leaves, she kisses him on the cheek, "Bernie, you are a good friend."
Chapter 8
There's a knock on my door. I raise my eyes from my work and see Jim already coming in with a stack of papers in his hand.
"It's beautiful," he says, and drops them on my desk. "With your twenty-six cases on top of the ones I've gotten in the past two years, we now have plenty for a good article."
He pulls up a chair. "Here are my suggestions for the various sections." He thumbs through the pile and at last hands me a handwritten page. I'm an expert at deciphering Jim's handwriting, but this one is stretching the limit.
"Overdue and overruns," I finally guess the first subtitle. "Rick, there is a lot of research published on the subject, and for most of our cases we don't have the exact numbers. So, what I suggest is that you assemble the most appropriate references and we'll report that our findings confirm the previous research."
So far it translates into a minimum of two boring days in the library, I note to myself, wondering what is still to come.
"The emphasis should be on categorizing the official and the unofficial reasons for the snafus," he continues. "I've scribbled a list of sections. Feel free to add."
So these serpents are the sections. I hand him back his page, saying, "It's better if we discuss each one of them."
After about twenty minutes I have the full list. I estimate that there are about seventy reports in the pile. How much time will it take me to go over all the reports, doing such an elaborate content analysis? A lot. It's boring work, but I have to do it. I can't give it to one of Jim's Ph.D. students.
But that was the deal. I teach the course and I do the dirty work. Then I have the honor of writing the first draft of the article and the second and the . . . And on each draft Jim's name will appear before mine.
I'd better not think this way. It's actually his course and his idea, and I do need to publish articles. I must stop these negative thoughts and be thankful for the opportunity.
I tell him about the pattern the class discovered: the lower the position of the manager the more the finger points not just outside the company but inside as well.
"Interesting," he
"I know. Believe me, I know. But Bernie, I cannot do it. Not even the first step. I tried to bring myself to stop granting tenure. Our business school qualified eight candidates. I read their files. Not much is there, but from the little there is you can see how hard they had to work for it. How many years they devoted. I can picture their families. I can picture how it will ruin them.
"Don't misunderstand me," she adds. "I don't have any problem getting rid of a person who is not carrying his weight. Nobody will accuse me of being softhearted, but these people deserve better. They are good, bright, hard-working people."
"When you are in charge of an omelet you have to break eggs."
"Let somebody else break people," she says bitterly. "I'm thinking of resigning."
B.J. is not a person to say such a thing lightly. With effort, he restrains himself from referring to her shocking statement and says, "You don't break them. You do them a big favor."
She almost chokes.
"Listen to me," he continues in a harsh voice. "Let them get out now. They are young. They are bright. They will carve themselves a good niche. Every year that you allow them to stay diminishes their chances. The market will be less appreciative of their knowledge and they will be less able to adapt."
She doesn't answer. Five minutes later, she puts her hand on his. "Can you please return to the airport. I can still catch the six o'clock flight."
They drive in silence.
When she leaves, she kisses him on the cheek, "Bernie, you are a good friend."
Chapter 8
There's a knock on my door. I raise my eyes from my work and see Jim already coming in with a stack of papers in his hand.
"It's beautiful," he says, and drops them on my desk. "With your twenty-six cases on top of the ones I've gotten in the past two years, we now have plenty for a good article."
He pulls up a chair. "Here are my suggestions for the various sections." He thumbs through the pile and at last hands me a handwritten page. I'm an expert at deciphering Jim's handwriting, but this one is stretching the limit.
"Overdue and overruns," I finally guess the first subtitle. "Rick, there is a lot of research published on the subject, and for most of our cases we don't have the exact numbers. So, what I suggest is that you assemble the most appropriate references and we'll report that our findings confirm the previous research."
So far it translates into a minimum of two boring days in the library, I note to myself, wondering what is still to come.
"The emphasis should be on categorizing the official and the unofficial reasons for the snafus," he continues. "I've scribbled a list of sections. Feel free to add."
So these serpents are the sections. I hand him back his page, saying, "It's better if we discuss each one of them."
After about twenty minutes I have the full list. I estimate that there are about seventy reports in the pile. How much time will it take me to go over all the reports, doing such an elaborate content analysis? A lot. It's boring work, but I have to do it. I can't give it to one of Jim's Ph.D. students.
But that was the deal. I teach the course and I do the dirty work. Then I have the honor of writing the first draft of the article and the second and the . . . And on each draft Jim's name will appear before mine.
I'd better not think this way. It's actually his course and his idea, and I do need to publish articles. I must stop these negative thoughts and be thankful for the opportunity.
I tell him about the pattern the class discovered: the lower the position of the manager the more the finger points not just outside the company but inside as well.
"Interesting," he
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