Starving the Monkeys: Fight Back Smarter

by Tom Baugh

  Today, technology maintenance workers merely try to keep up, paid off in jobs which spring from the insanity that requires them. Their day is consumed with mitigating the losses from potentially enormous -ΔQs which spring from the constant compatibility war. Each employee who suffers the indignity of a failing computer must call on these workers to relieve his pain. And yet most of this pain is caused primarily by hackers who exploit vulnerabilities exposed by the version froth which the lack of free trade encourages.

  Rather than be outraged, the large relish this pain. As with workplace regulations, or harassment suits, or tax complexity or environmental restrictions, the pain of software reliability is just another way of ensuring that critical mass keeps them safe from you. As you struggle with all of these issues, you, as an entrepreneur, find yourself with precious little time left in your day to compete with them.

  Manufacturing Discussing manufacturing staff within the context of -ΔQ chews on the rawest of nerves. Manufacturing employees, typically of the unionized variety, imagine that they are creating +ΔQ.

  "For without us," they argue, "who would assemble that widget?" Well, perhaps that robot which you just made more attractive when you went on strike.

  When the manufacturing worker was an artisan, crafting a belt or a satchel out of a piece of leather, the mind was the key. Each leather was an individual thing, with a shape and a grain and imperfections to be handled and pulled and turned around and around, until the artisan's subconscious saw the satchel flap hiding in it. No two pieces of work were the same, even if the pattern was identical, and the most proficient artisan would pull a thing of beauty out of a leather which a novice would only ruin.

  The road worker has the same claim on the mind. That hill or valley is different, even if only slightly, from all those he has encountered before. The weather is more or less convenient for work, the soil has more or less moisture, clay, sand or organic debris. The aggregate varies from load to load as it was pulled from different settled layers at the mixing heap at the quarry. Even the architectural plans, despite their mind-numbing uniformity, has different curves and approaches to best match the interchange which the civil engineer's subconscious mind saw peeking out of that hill.

  The truck driver? Just for fun, I once took a portion of the commercial driver's license test. This was the simplest portion, the part which covered air brakes. I was humiliated within a few questions. I challenge anyone who doubts the truck driver to go down to the DMV and try the same. As he drives, he keeps the rest of us safe as we whizz around him. Rain, snow, blinding sun on the horizon, his mind must always be alert. His subconscious mind tracks the cars in the rear view mirrors, accounting for each one, so that the driver feels you drift into his blind spot before he registers your presence.

  Even the unionized supervisor at the plant has a more mindful job as he deals with the absenteeism and the frayed nerves and the work schedules. But the assembler who places that component on that location, over and over, provides the best value when he chooses to not innovate. Or when he decides to watch for the missing bolts or the misaligned components or the improperly assembled component as it comes from the packaging. Or to put the component into position without hurting anyone. Clearly, these uses of the mind do not add +ΔQ, but instead prevent the infliction of -ΔQ. Quality is latent in the machines or the design or the materials or the procedures or the sub-assemblies he is given. He can only detract from them by his inattention. Nor can he do a thing to correct a defective design in any meaningful way.

  Yet, the collective believes that all +ΔQ derives from these workers' efforts. But without the machines and the design and the processes or the materials, the worker would be no more effective than a monkey beating on a coconut with a rock.

  Recently an automotive union made a show about "giving back" some time off or some other triviality, and expected to be slapped on the back. Well, of course, that was a good thing, but it hardly goes far enough. This move was merely the dialing back a little of some enormous ΔQ from years before. They are just throwing slightly smaller bricks now. The manufacturing industry, however, is possibly the most easily automated industry of all.

  Automation requires a few prerequisites:

  Constrained work environment. The inside environment of a manufacturing floor can be planned and counted on to be invariant. You can bolt a machine in place, and it will stay there, making it easier to deliver a component to a precise location for the machine to work with. One machine can then easily feed another, also located at a precise position. Contrast this environment with bricklaying, where the path from the pallet to the location on the wall varies with the worksite or the weather.

  Repeatable operation. Bolt #727 goes into the same position the same way thousands or millions of times. On the other hand, each brick on a wall winds up in a different location. Although you can mathematically calculate where the next brick must go, the articulation required to place that brick becomes tricky. Also, sometimes you need to cut bricks to fit.

  Access to sufficient power. Those big chunky conductors going into the wall of the plant help a lot. A construction site, on the other hand, may not even have power anywhere near it yet.

  Well-defined material. All of the material which flows into a manufacturing plant is usually tightly specified, and rejected if not. All those bolts are the same, all the struts are the same, all the tires are identical. Each of these materials can be inspected by automated vision or x-ray systems if needed. Or, if a tire, for example, put on a hub and inflated, and then pinged for soundness. The bricklayer, on the other hand, must inspect, to some degree, each brick he handles for faults or other defects, and each brick or defect is unique enough to fool most vision systems.

  So the job of the assembly worker is to mitigate -ΔQ. But if while doing so he wields the power of the collective to inflict even more -ΔQ, he merely incentivizes his employer to automate away jobs such as his more and more. And, since his job is easily automated, the level of automation continues to rise each year. The cost? Fewer opportunities for productive individuals who wish to absorb themselves in the work and enjoy the process of creation.

  Gatekeeper or Facilitator? In all of these examples, the true creative individualist sees his role in the organization as a facilitator of creativity. In contrast, the collectivist chooses to perform as a gatekeeper, limiting access to resources required to unleash creativity in others.

  The same executive who rations pens could instead lean back and watch. Watch the flow of creativity, and watch for any obstacles which defeat it. And then move to remove those obstacles using his greater authority and resources. Unless his goal is to extract unearned value from his clients by increasing billable hours.

  The same salesman who twists the needs of his customers to suit his product regardless of its suitability could instead lean back and listen to his customers. Then flow these customers' true needs back into his own organization to improve future products. By so doing, both the salesman and the vendor become recognized as true partners in their customers' success. Unless the vendor's strategy is to extract unearned value by manipulating his customer's decisions to his short-term gain and their longterm peril.

  The same manager who sees the creative need of his staff as threats to his authority could instead lean back and watch. Just like the executive, he could watch the flow of creativity in his own staff. Over time, he might learn to recognize its outward signs not as awkwardness or hostility, but instead clues to him that it is time to shield them from disturbance. And then stoke those creative fires with the simple comforts required to keep them burning hot. Unless his strategy is to promote his status in the company through manipulation, regardless of the long-term health of his company and its image with his customers.

  The same laborer who feels the need to unionize could instead lean back and watch. Watch the more skilled masters of his art and learn from them. Learn to become skilled and creative himself so that he earns promotion and g
reater compensation for his skill. Or create a reputation for himself so that he could attain rewarding work anywhere individualism is cherished. Unless his goal is to abandon his own merit, choosing instead to coerce unearned value from his employer by mass action.

  The same administrative assistant who interrupts the creative flow of the entire staff by use of the intercom or dramatic interludes could instead lean back and watch. Watch the creative process and foster it by simple acts such as taking messages and delivering them gently while the creative think. Or tend to the needs of the staff by bringing them water or pens or any other item they may need for their work which may be blocking their subconscious work. And in so doing promote herself by her increased value. Unless her goal is to extract unearned value by feigning offense at harmlessness. Or to entertain herself with drama created for drama's sake.

  The same software developer who slakes his desire to learn the latest tool or new methodology could instead lean back and think. Think about whether his company is better served by building on and improving what works now, rather than forcing the upheaval of chasing some unproved trend or unsubstantiated promise. And if that upheaval is required, doing so in a way that is best understood by those other idea workers around him who don't share his zeal for the unfamiliar. Unless his goal is to fortify his own position as a guru, and thus extract unearned value by insisting on the fantastically complex.

  The same information technology specialist who delights in torturing the users of his systems could instead lean back and watch. Watch how their efforts produce the value which pays his check, and commit to simplifying and enhancing their work as an unfelt force of nature beneath them. Unless his goal is to extract unearned value by acting instead as a whirlwind of upheaval which leaves destruction and turmoil in his wake.

  Gatekeeper or facilitator? Collectivist or individualist? Monkey or man? Industry by industry, job by job, day by day and minute by minute, each member of each organization gets to make this choice. Too often the choice is to twist and manipulate and demand rather than facilitate.

  The same gatekeeper functions which exist in large organizations must instead, in small organizations, emanate as facilitation instead. To do otherwise is universally recognized as suicidal for a small business. We've heard our entire lives that entrepreneurs must behave differently from the big company worker. But, even with that behavioral change, or, more precisely, attitudinal shift, entrepreneurs fail more often than they succeed. Usually, the blame for this consistent failure is placed on either too little entrepreneurial spirit, or paradoxically, too much of it. Both cannot exist at the same time, and either explanation averts attention from the true question.

  Hardly ever does anyone ask "why is this attitudinal change deemed necessary for the small, but is hardly ever demanded of the large?" If you turn the entrepreneurial light back on the large organizations, much of what I have been saying in this book becomes revealed within their walls.

  Why is it that large organizations don't require the customer focus demanded of the small? Why is it that large organizations can afford the wastefulness which would be suicidal in the small? On and on, the comparisons mount. Despite this evidence, we accept the success of the large as reasonable while we simultaneously accept the failure of the small. And even though the small have taken precisely those actions and attitudes universally recognized as required for their success.

  Again and again, large organizations prosper despite inefficiency or a lack of quality, while the small flounder despite a focus on the needs of their customer. Know how to make a better air conditioner which provides more comfort with less energy consumption and fewer repairs? It matters not one bit. Before you can sell that first unit you have to comply with a barrier of regulation which probably keeps you from even getting your hands on the refrigerant which you need to make this possible. Or determines how you must structure your manufacturing or your distribution or your support or installation. Or who and how many you must hire, and what economic relationship you must accept between them and you.

  All of this keeps the existing players who provide increasingly more shoddy units safe from your ideas and individual effort. Meanwhile, they get to stick labels on their units which proclaim higher efficiency as their customers swelter and suffer through repair after repair. These things are possible because the large organization gives the monkey a safe cave in which to hide. Otherwise, the monkey would have to transform himself, or starve, his de-evolution evident in the open air in which the entrepreneur must work.

  To protect his hiding place, then, the monkey, whether in a suit or coveralls, demands protection from his foolishness. This demand he communicates to his lawmakers, his lawyers and his shop stewards, who weave fantastically intricate concealment around him. Concealment which the entrepreneur, his only natural predator, cannot afford, but, outnumbered, must obey and not ferret him out.

  Marketing The protections which large organizations (commercial, government or spiritual) enjoy allows the collective to wield another weapon in its war against the individual. And resulted in the evolution of an entire industry unique to the collective. To introduce this specialty, I am going to exercise some scholarship to define it, and then pick that apart.

  According to dictionary.com, marketing is defined as: Marketing - noun. the total of activities involved in the transfer of goods from the producer or seller to the consumer or buyer, including advertising, shipping, storing, and selling.

  OK, that definition is a little misleading. Find someone who presents themselves as a marketing professional, and they wouldn't dare admit to something so common as shipping or storing anything. That's too much like useful work. And selling is for the salesman. And advertising, which is a little closer than the rest, is too narrow. Their job instead, is much more important than just advertising. No, a marketing professional paints a picture of his product in your mind.

  When you buy a stick of gum, the guy who rings up your purchase is a salesman, from the point of view of a marketer. Imagine that you walk into that same store, with no intention of buying the gum. If the salesman walks up to you and says, "Hey fella, how about buying a stick of gum?" he is still selling. But when he says, "Mmmm, that is some good, good gum. It's all juicy, and tastes just like fruit. Delicious." Then, he is marketing. Or reinforcing marketing you have encountered before.

  In fact, it is previous marketing which made it possible for an association to pop in your mind just as you read that. You can see the image of what that pack of gum looks like in your mind, as well as how it tastes. You experience these phantom sensations only because of a barrage of marketing which you have experienced in the past. And you rejected all other options of some delicious gum because of marketing.

  Here are some more examples:

  "Mmmm, this gum is so big. And red. Tasty". You know exactly what gum that is, even though bigness and redness really has nothing at all to do with enjoying gumness. And, truth be told, it is no bigger than the alternatives.

  "Hubba hubba, I want to blow some bubbles." Even though this one is generally bigger, the bigness isn't the trigger, it is the hubbaness.

  "Bubbles are great, but I want some yummy yummy yum with them, too." This is a little farther apart in brainspace, but eventually you get there.

  Marketing isn't the same as selling, although all effective salesmen do a little of it all the time. But selling is more focused on the mechanics of leading the buyer through the decision process from contact to a close. After this, other sales functionaries then work through the transaction and the logistics and invoicing necessary to exchange the value.

  Marketing makes you aware of a need and a product or service which fills that need. Sometimes the need is legitimate, sometimes it is an illusion. Sometimes the product or service is worthwhile, sometimes it is worse than useless. All of these exist in a spectrum of need and utility, in all possible combinations. And in each case it is a hijacking of your subconscious mind to make these associations
for you.

  Marketing is equally powerful for good or ill, and depends on the values of the one wielding its power. In the hands of an individualist who wants to bring the best value to his customers, so that he might exchange it for more value for himself, its message is positive and truthful. In the hands of the collective, who merely wish to extract as much unearned value from every sucker they can find, it is misleading and destructive.

  Sometimes marketing can have unexpected blowback on the company in question. Who doesn't get a feeling of creepy ill-ease as they pass by a Burger King? I used to enjoy going there, but now I don't want to be associated with that freakish chess-piece. I know they are trying to be edgy and hip, but still. And what idiot thought up that Sponge-Bob rap?

  That could have been cleverly done, but crossed too many genres. For the kid angle, they could have had a family walking out of a Burger King with square pants after eating there. Or, for the late-nighter, the commercial could have advertised a large sandwich with the same theme. For late-night adults, this commercial could have featured the girls shaking burgers on their butts as the rapper sang, "I like big buns, and I cannot lie..." With no kids around, that would have been funny and cute, in a way.

  But mixing the two is just, uh, odd, to be delicate. And this assessment from a guy writing a book which is designed to offend almost everyone who reads it. If a little girl wants to grow up to be a pole-dancer, she needs to make that decision when she is old enough to understand the consequences. But not because Daddy took her to Burger King. And Daddy doesn't want to look as if he is helping her make this career choice. "But Daddy, I don't WANT to pole dance," little Sally whimpers as he brings the tray to the table. "Shut up and eat your burger, honey, your public is waiting. And this time, if the tears streak your makeup I'll make you go see the bad man again. So smile."