Late last Thursday, after a good day with our leadership team focused on finishing the year strong, I was one of a number of recipients of an email from a teammate at one of our sites expressing significant concern about how things are going at GreenPoint. It was several pages and was blunt. They had been living with “feelings of frustration, inadequacy, and unhappiness” for the past 18 months. While teamwork at their site was good, GreenPoint was not a single team and their past feelings of being part of a “family” were long gone. They’d raised the issues before but hadn’t felt heard, respected, or valued. They also needed us to know that many others shared their feelings, but wouldn’t “speak out because they know it is futile.”
My initial reaction was defensiveness and anger. Didn’t they know how hard we were trying? Maybe they just don’t like change. Thankfully, that lasted only a few seconds. If the author cared enough about the company to say something and was courageous enough to attach their name to it, maybe I could put my ego aside and read for understanding. So I reread the letter with a different mindset. The author was clearly hurting, knew others were too and was trying to help the company before we lost good people.
I was conflicted about how to respond. On the one hand, I cut my teeth in the military and believe in the chain of command concept. If I jumped right in, would I be undercutting those in the chain below me? I also didn’t want to encourage chaos, as leading change through blast emails feels more like a Twitter war than good leadership. On the other hand, there were clearly a number of issues and where there is smoke, there is fire. Additionally, the email had already been shared widely and would undoubtedly spread further. I wanted to make sure people knew I’d at least read it. I penned a short but safe response.
I then received an email from another person letting me know (a) my initial response stunk, and (b) the author was indeed not alone. The first person to say something is often dismissed as a complainer; it is the fast follower who generates action. Because I had asked the chain of command to reach out to the original author to find out more details, I asked the second person if she’d be willing to speak with me in person. She was and we spoke Friday morning.
That hour-long call led me to spend the next five hours or so on the phone with multiple people throughout the organization. Once they understood that I was trying to learn and would not punish them, the flood gates opened. My hand got so tired from taking notes, I had to switch to typing. I pushed for specifics. I can’t help fix, “This sucks” but I can go to work on specific issues. They gave them to me.
There are far too many to list here and we have a lot more to learn before we propose solutions but over the half-dozen in-depth conversations, several themes emerged.
1. Us vs Them. There is a significant disconnect between our corporate offices and our local teams. The local teams know each other and largely trust those they work with and see every day but don’t have that connection with our corporate teams yet.
2. We’ve lost the human connection. Several changes we’ve made recently in an attempt to improve things or make things more efficient have increased that feeling of disconnectedness. Instead of calling and speaking to a person (whom they get to know over time), our new processes have them sending emails to generic addresses or our helpdesk app. While perhaps easier for the administrative teams, the human voice was replaced by an often anonymous electronic response. Many don’t like it. We can make all the COVID excuses we want but cutting the human connection isn’t what we intended or what we want.
3. From Raindrops to a Flood. There is an old saying, “No single raindrop believes it is responsible for the flood.” Our teams in the field are working their tails off and are feeling bombarded by our administrative teams with requests for information. As one person put it, “I work for about 11 different people at any one time” From HR to accounting, credit, AP, asset accounting, fleet management, IT, and leadership, each of our numerous corporate teams need “just a little bit of information” or a “few minutes of help.” But in the middle of the busy season, (a) there are no spare moments, and (b) a few minutes for a number of well-meaning people add up to an avalanche of work.
4. Not all pain is gain. We’ve had a ton of change over the past 21 months. Not all of it is fantastic. Some of our new processes have made it easier for some and harder for others. Obviously, no one goes to work thinking I can’t wait to make things worse for someone. Yet, it has happened in places. We need to go to work in those places.
5. The filter is real. All the people I spoke with on Friday had said that they had previously raised these issues with the people asking for information and their leadership. Yet the issues remained. While implementing change, there is a difficult balance between pushing through natural resistance to change and failing to heed warnings of problems. We need to do a better job of listening, involving more people at all levels early in the process, and incorporating feedback where possible. Our leadership at all levels needs to do a better job of raising concerns and fighting for their people.
Here’s what I loved about the letter and the people I talked to on Friday.
1. Caring and Courage. I’ve said it before, but it is worth repeating. Whether you agree or disagree with the contents of the letter, you have to admire the author’s caring and the courage. I am incredibly grateful. This person has enough experience to know the risk they were taking – personally and professionally – and took it anyway. So did all the others I spoke with. Caring and Courage will take us a long way.
2. We’ve got some good stuff happening. Everyone I spoke to was clear that they see many things getting better. But we are – and always will be – a work in progress. I’m excited because the conversations have given us some very specific areas to focus on.
Root Cause. The root cause of the our feelings of disconnection is an upside down pyramid.
One of my most favorite parts of the concept of continuous improvement is the way teams that truly practice it think of themselves. Jeffrey Liker, in his book, The Toyota Way, talks about the traditional top-down management style which most of us are familiar.
There are all sorts of problems with this but the two-most dangerous are (1) the customer is at the bottom meaning the company is internally focused, and (2) the company is built in such a way that the people at “the bottom” work for the people “at the top.”
Companies that embrace a culture of customer focus, continuous improvement, and operational excellence have flipped the pyramid.
First, it puts the customer where it belongs at the top. Second, it places the leadership in a position of supporting those who are closest to the customer. Imagine an environment where when you’re struggling to get a job done correctly, your leadership doesn’t bark at you, “How come you can’t get this done?” but instead asks, “What can I do to help you get it done?” and “Do you have any ideas for how we might improve things so you don’t get stuck again?” What a great place to work!
The bottom line is while there is a lot of stuff going right – we’re having a successful second year that is better than our first both financially and operationally – we can be a lot better. Not everyone feels included, valued, or respected. That matters greatly because GreenPoint is not a “thing” but a collection of people – of complicated, messed up, beautiful, amazing, hard-working people who care deeply about the company. But the caring can feel like a one-way street as our efforts to improve things can unintentionally pull us apart. Separation is dangerous, as we’re far stronger together than we are apart. If we flip the triangle, focus on our customers, and support those who serve them while striving to get just a little better every day, nothing will stop us.
Onward!
Jeff
