EPILOGUE
CHAPTER TEN: DOWN THE CREEK WITHOUT A PADDLE
In which the problem of spreading ideas quickly is solved


‘Congratulations!’

I’m feeling rather pleased with myself.

‘To win such a large contract, and to win over two global consultancies and one International Business School! How did you do it?’

‘I just talked about change. I talked about it in a realistic common-sense way. I explained the first four laws of change and explained how we applied them to all change and then I talked about the skills groupings for their project leaders. Oops! I mean change agents. That’s what they insist on calling them.’

I’m sitting in my new office talking to Cathy. The two months since I joined her organisation have simply flown by. I say in a worried voice. ‘Our real problem is the number of people they want us to work with.’

Cathy appears not to have understood the tone of my voice. She seems to think that I am less than keen but interprets this as normal business apprehension. She insists. ‘It’s good business though isn’t it?’

‘Yes. I agree.’ I try to explain my reservations more clearly. I’m worried that there is too big a gap between my/our knowledge of change management and theirs. I’m worried that they will hear what we say, but not understand it. I’m worried that we will take the few who work closely with us along at a rate too fast for the others to keep up and leave them more confused and divided than they are now. I know that unless we can provide a method for all of them to learn at the same rate, unless we can provide a rate faster than our direct involvement alone allows I am not sure that they will turn around fast enough. The thoughts are rushing into my brain. I am not sure if they will turn around at all. They will simply start changes in the organisation. Changes which are not improvements. And I know that since one change leads to another, the changes have a chance of snowballing. And since the changes they start with will not improve anything, they will add more changes. And since adding change to change creates chaos, their organisation will get increasingly chaotic. Less and less able to cope with the pressures it’s facing. Indeed instead of helping them succeed, we will be helping them commit corporate suicide.

I know all this and yet as usual my brain deserts me. Instead of explaining all this; instead of helping Cathy to understand what I understand; instead of articulating my thoughts; my statement, ‘Yes. I agree,’ is followed by a pause, a long, ‘er’. And then I say, ‘It’s a big job. I think I need more resources.’

‘I see what you mean,’ she says, ‘I shall think about it. Why don’t you raise it at the partners’ meeting tomorrow?’

I nod in agreement. It’s a lie. I know in my heart and mind that the partners’ meeting will not solve anything. I try to smile confidently. I want her to think that I know what I’m up to. She smiles back. A warm friendly smile. Just like her voice. A smile you just can’t help liking. I grin. She gets up and walks to the door. As she turns the handle a leather clad courier practically falls into the room carrying a brown parcel. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbles in apology to Cathy but he is too late. She is already gone. He looks directly at me and says, ‘They said downstairs that I would find you here. Please sign.’ First he hands me a form to sign and then passes me the parcel.

As I take the parcel the ‘phone starts to ring. I walk back behind my desk throwing a farewell over my shoulder. ‘Bye.’

Now it’s early evening. It’s quiet. I think most people have left. The afternoon has been pretty hectic but not fruitful. It looks as if my ability to sell has just about dropped me in it. It’s one thing to outsell your competitors by talking to them about your latest ideas but it’s another thing altogether to find enough of the right resource to help you deliver your promises. I have raised the stakeholders’ expectations but can not get anyone who will or can follow my lead, so that we can deliver what has been promised. I have spent the afternoon trying to convince colleagues and contacts. Their reactions are similar if not the same. ‘I’d love to help, it sounds really interesting, and, it looks as if you have found out something I had not understood and would love to learn but I can’t see how you can train me up to get me up to speed in time for me to do a competent job. Sorry. I can’t help.’ What a frustrating afternoon.

I’m packing up to go home when I notice the package still unopened on my desk. I’ve never been able to resist opening packages. The kid in me I guess. I find opening parcels reminds me of the warm and fulfilled feelings of early Christmases, when I still believed there was a Santa. It pulls me back to the times before now. The times when you couldn’t just go out and buy what you wanted when you wanted. Instead you had to wait for an annual event, a birthday, to receive the objects of your desire, gift wrapped. I reach over and peel off the adhesive tape and unwrap it. It is a two inch high stack of paper. There is a hand-written letter on the top.
That’s just typical of Franck. Out-thinking me and being just one step ahead. Nice thought but as usual he is ahead of me. I start off miffed and then the realisation dawns. ‘What is my biggest problem? It’s spreading the ideas we developed in France widely and quickly.’ I get this warm feeling. ‘If it’s any good I should be able to overcome my difficulty in spreading our ideas and thoughts on managing all change by parcelling it up into projects or chunks. This manuscript may be what I need to fulfil the volume of work I have just sold.’ I lift the two inch pile of paper and place it squarely in front of me. I twist the desk lamp round to shine directly onto it, turn the first page and start to read The Project Leader’s Secret Handbook.