The Goal: A Process of Ongoing Improvement, Third Revised Edition
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joing to need everything you can give me. If we can make this
place show any progress, I'm going to go to Peach and do what-
ever I have to to make him give us more time."
"Do you really think we can do it?" asks Lou.
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"I honestly don't know," I say . "But at least now we can see some of what we're doing wrong,"
"So what can we do that's different?" asks Bob.
"Why don't we stop pushing materials through the robots
and try to reduce inventories?" suggests Stacey.
"Hey, I'm all for lower inventory," says Bob. "But if we don't produce, our efficiencies go down. Then we're right back where
we started."
"Peach isn't going to give us a second chance if all we give
him is lower efficiencies," says Lou. "He wants higher efficiencies, not lower."
I run my fingers through my hair.
Then Stacey says, "Maybe you should try calling this guy,
Jonah, again. He seems like he's got a good handle on what's
what."
"Yeah, at least we could find out what he has to say," says
Lou.
"Well, I talked to him last night. That's when he gave me all this stuff," I say, waving to the definitions on the board. "He was supposed to call me . . ."
I look at their faces.
"Well, okay, I'll try him again," I say and reach for my brief-
case to get the London number.
I put through a call from the phone in the conference room
with the three of them listening expectantly around the table. But
he isn't there anymore. Instead I end up talking to some secre-
tary.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Rogo," she says. "Jonah tried to call you, but your secretary said you were in a meeting. He wanted to talk to
you before he left London today, but I'm afraid you've missed
him."
"Where is he going to be next?" I ask.
"He was flying to New York. Perhaps you can catch him at
his hotel," she says.
I take down the name of the hotel and thank her. Then I get
the number in New York from directory assistance, and expect-
ing only to be able to leave a message for him, I try it. The switch-
board puts me through.
"Hello?" says a sleepy voice.
"Jonah? This is Alex Rogo. Did I wake you?"
"As a matter of fact, you did."
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"Oh, I'm sorry—I'll try not to keep you long. But I really
need to talk to you at greater length about what we were discuss-
ing last night," I tell him.
"Last night?" he asks. "Yes, I suppose it was 'last night' your time."
"Maybe we could make arrangements for you to come to my
plant and meet with me and my staff," I suggest.
"Well, the problem is I have commitments lined up for the
next three weeks, and then I'm going back to Israel," he says.
"But, you see, I can't wait that long," I say. "I've got some major problems I have to solve and not a lot of time. I understand now what you meant about the robots and productivity.
But my staff and I don't know what the next step should be and
... uh, well, maybe if I explained a few things to you—"
"Alex, I would like to help you, but I also need to get some
sleep. I'm exhausted," he says. "But I have a suggestion: if your schedule permits, why don't I meet with you here tomorrow
morning at seven for breakfast at my hotel."
"Tomorrow?"
"That's right," he says. "We'll have about an hour and we
can talk. Otherwise . . ."
I look around at the others, all of them watching me anx-
iously. I tell Jonah to hold on for a second.
"He wants me to come to New York tomorrow," I tell them.
"Can anybody think of a reason why I shouldn't go?"
"Are you kidding?" says Stacey.
"Go for it," says Bob.
"What have you got to lose?" says Lou.
I take my hand off the mouthpiece. "Okay, I'll be there," I
say.
"Excellent!" Jonah says with relief. "Until then, good night."
When I get back to my office, Fran looks up with surprise
from her work.
"So there you are!" she says and reaches for the message
slips. "This man called you twice from London. He wouldn't say
whether it was important or not."
I say, "I've got a job for you: find a way to get me to New
York tonight."
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But Julie does not understand.
"Thanks for the advance notice," she says.
"If I'd known earlier, I'd have told you," I say.
"Everything is unexpected with you lately," she says.
"Don't I always tell you when I know I've got trips coming
up?"
She fidgets next to the bedroom door. I'm packing an over-
night bag which lies open on the bed. We're alone; Sharon is
down the street at a friend's house, and Davey is at band practice.
"When is this going to end?" she asks.
I stop midway through taking some underwear from a
drawer. I'm getting irritated by the questions because we just
went over the whole thing five minutes ago. Why is it so hard for
her to understand?
"Julie, I don't know." I say. "I've got a lot of problems to solve."
More fidgeting. She doesn't like it. It occurs to me that
maybe she doesn't trust me or something.
"Hey, I'll call you as soon as I get to New York," I tell her.
"Okay?"
She turns as if she might walk out of the room.
"Fine. Call," she says, "but I might not be here."
I stop again.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I might be out someplace," she says.
"Oh," I say. "Well, I guess I'll have to take my chances."
"I guess you will," she says, furious now, on her way out the
door.
I grab an extra shirt and slam the drawer shut. When I finish
packing, I go looking for her. I find her in the living room. She
stands by the window, biting the end of her thumb. I take her
hand and kiss the thumb. Then I try to hug her.
"Listen, I know I've been undependable lately," I say. "But this is important. It's for the plant—"
She shakes her head, pulls away. I follow her into the
kitchen. She stands with her back to me.
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"Everything is for your job," she says. "It's all you think about. I can't even count on you for dinner. And the kids are
asking me why you're like this—"
There is a tear forming in the corner of her eye. I reach to
wipe it away, but she brushes my hand aside.
"No!" she says. "Just go catch your plane to wherever it is you're going."
"Julie-"
She walks past me.
"Julie, this is not fair!" I yell at her.
She turns to me.
"That's right," she says. "You are not being fair. To me or to your children."
She goes upstairs without looking back. And I don't e
ven
have time to settle this; I'm already late for my flight, I pick up
my bag in the hall, sling it over my shoulder, and grab my brief-
case on my way out the door.
At 7:10 the next morning, I'm waiting in the hotel lobby for
Jonah. He's a few minutes late, but that's not what's on my mind
as I pace the carpeted floor. I'm thinking about Julie. I'm wor-
ried about her . . . about us. After I checked into my room last
night, I tried to call home. No answer. Not even one of the kids
picked up the phone. I walked around the room for half an hour,
kicked a few things, and tried calling again. Still no answer. From
then until two in the morning, I dialed the number every fifteen
minutes. Nobody home. At one point I tried the airlines to see if I
could get on a plane back, but nothing was flying in that direction
at that hour. I finally fell asleep. My wake-up call got me out of
bed at six o'clock. I tried the number twice before I left my room
this morning. The second time, I let it ring for five minutes. Still
no answer.
"Alex!"
I turn. Jonah is walking toward me. He's wearing a white
shirt—no tie, no jacket—and plain trousers.
"Good morning," I say as we shake hands. I notice his eyes
are puffy, like those of someone who hasn't had a lot of sleep; I
think that mine probably look the same.
"Sorry I'm late," he says. "I had dinner last night with some associates and we got into a discussion which went, I believe, until
three o'clock in the morning. Let's get a table for breakfast."
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I walk with him into the restaurant and the maitre d' leads us
to a table with a white linen cloth.
"How did you do with the measurements I defined for you
over the telephone?" he asks after we've sat down.
I switch my mind to business, and tell him how I expressed
the goal with his measurements. Jonah seemed very pleased.
"Excellent," he says. "You have done very well."
"Well, thanks, but I'm afraid I need more than a goal and
some measurements to save my plant."
"To save your plant?" he asks.
I say, "Well . . . yes, that's why I'm here. I mean, I didn't just call you to talk philosophy."
He smiles. "No, I didn't think you tracked me down purely
for the love of truth. Okay, Alex, tell me what's going on."
"This is confidential," I say to him. Then I explain the situa-
tion with the plant and the three-month deadline before it gets
closed. Jonah listens attentively. When I've finished, he sits back.
"What do you expect from me?" he asks.
"I don't know if there is one, but I'd like you to help me find
the answer that will let me keep my plant alive and my people
working," I say.
Jonah looks away for a moment.
"I'll tell you my problem," he says. "I have an unbelievable schedule. That's why we're meeting at this ungodly hour, inci-dentally. With the commitments I already have, there is no way I
can spend the time to do all the things you probably would ex-
pect from a consultant."
I sigh, very disappointed. I say, "Okay, if you're too busy—"
"Wait, I'm not finished," he says. "That doesn't mean you can't save your plant. I don't have time to solve your problems for
you. But that wouldn't be the best thing for you anyway—"
"What do you mean?" I interrupt.
Jonah holds up his hands. "Let me finish!" he says. "From
what I've heard, I think you can solve your own problems. What
I will do is give you some basic rules to apply. If you and your
people follow them intelligently, I think you will save your plant.
Fair enough?"
"But, Jonah, we've only got three months," I say.
He nods impatiently. "I know, I know," he says. "Three
months is more than enough time to show improvement ... if
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you are diligent, that is. And if you aren't, then nothing I say
could save you anyway."
"Oh, you can count on our diligence, for sure," I say.
"Shall we try it then?" he asks.
"Frankly, I don't know what else to do," I say. Then I smile.
"I guess I'd better ask what this is going to cost me. Do you have
some kind of standard rate or something?"
"No, I don't," he says. "But I'll make a deal with you. Just pay me the value of what you learn from me."
"How will I know what that is?"
"You should have a reasonable idea after we've finished. If
your plant folds, then obviously the value of your learning won't
have been much; you won't owe me anything. If, on the other
hand, you learn enough from me to make billions, then you
should pay me accordingly," he says.
I laugh. What have I got to lose?
"Okay, fair enough," I say finally.
We shake hands across the table.
A waiter interrupts to ask if we're ready to order. Neither of
us have opened the menus, but it turns out we both want coffee.
The waiter informs us there's a ten-dollar minimum for sitting in
the dining room. So Jonah tells him to bring us both our own
pots of coffee and a quart of milk. He gives us a dirty look and
vanishes.
"Now then," Jonah says. "Where shall we begin . . ."
"I thought maybe first we could focus on the robots," I tell
him.
Jonah shakes his head.
"Alex, forget about your robots for now. They're like some
new industrial toy everybody's discovered. You've got much more
fundamental things to concern yourself with," he says.
"But you're not taking into account how important they are
to us," I tell him. "They're some of our most expensive equip-
ment. We absolutely have to keep them productive."
"Productive with respect to what?" he asks with an edge in
his voice.
"Okay, right ... we have to keep them productive in terms
of the goal," I say. "But I need high efficiencies to make those things pay for themselves, and I only get the efficiencies if they're
making parts."
Jonah is shaking his head again.
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"Alex, you told me in our first meeting that your plant has
very good efficiencies overall. If your efficiencies are so good,
then why is your plant in trouble?"
He takes a cigar out of his shirt pocket and bites the end off
of it.
"Okay, look, I have to care about efficiencies if only for the
reason that my management cares about them," I tell him.
"What's more important to your management, Alex: efficien-
cies or money?" he asks.
"Money, of course. But isn't high efficiency essential to mak-
ing money?" I ask him.
"Most of the time, your struggle for high efficiencies is taking
you in the opposite direction of your goal."
"I don't understand," I say. "And even if I did, my manage-
ment wouldn't."
But Jonah lights his cigar and says between puffs, "Okay,
let's see if I can help you understand with some basic questions
and answers. First tell me this: when you see one of your workers
standing idle with nothing to do, is that good or bad for the
company?"
"It's bad, of course," I say.
"Always?"
I feel this is a trick question.
"Well, we have to do maintenance—"
"No, no, no, I'm talking about a production employee who is
idle because there is no product to be worked on."
"Yes, that's always bad," I say.
"Why?"
I chuckle. "Isn't it obvious? Because it's a waste of money!
What are we supposed to do, pay people to do nothing? We can't
afford to have idle time. Our costs are too high to tolerate it. It's
inefficiency, it's low productivity—no matter how you measure
it."
He leans forward as if he's going to whisper a big secret to
me.
"Let me tell you something," he says. "A plant in which ev-
eryone is working all the time is very inefficient."
"Pardon me?"
"You heard me."
"But how can you prove that?" I ask.
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He says, "You've already proven it in your own plant. It's
right in front of your eyes. But you don't see it."
Now I shake my head. I say, "Jonah, I don't think we're
communicating. You see, in my plant, I don't have extra people.
The only way we can get products out the door is to keep every-
one working constantly."
"Tell me, Alex, do you have excess inventories in your
plant?" he asks.
"Yes, we do," I say.
"Do you have a lot of excess inventories?"
"Well . . . yes."
"Do you have a lot of a lot of excess inventories?"
"Yeah, okay, we do have a lot of a lot of excess, but what's the
point?"
"Do you realize that the only way you can create excess in-
ventories is by having excess manpower?" he says.
I think about it. After a minute, I have to conclude he's right;
machines don't set up and run themselves. People had to create
the excess inventory.
"What are you suggesting I do?" I ask. "Lay off more peo-
ple? I'm practically down to a skeleton force now."
"No, I'm not suggesting that you lay off more people. But I
am suggesting that you question how you are managing the ca-
pacity of your plant. And let me tell you, it is not according to the