NEANDERTHAL THINKING
MANAGEMENT
It’s the kind of thing that will s_____ organization back a million years.
ED ENTERED O’BRIEN’S and scanned the dimly lit pub. George, from his seat in the far corner of the room, spotted him and waved. “Here he is now, Harry.”
“Good,” Harry murmured. “Now maybe we can eat —I’m starving,” he said, already on his way to the table.
Ed hung up his coat and joined George at the bar. “Hello, Ed. Glad you could make it. You just leave the office?”
“Yes. George, I can’t stay for very long. Just a drink, maybe —I have an appointment at eight.”
“That’s OK, this isn’t really a social call, and it shouldn’t take that long.
Come on over to the table, I’ll explain.” George continued, “I want you to meet Harry, a friend of mine. He’s the dean of developmental projects in one of our local colleges, and holds a doctorate in sociology. I told him a little about your job with the mayor.”
They made their way to a booth at the back of the pub. Harry rose and shook Ed’s outstretched hand. “Harry. Pleased to meet you. Mayor’s office, huh? George told me about it; I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be,” Ed lightly replied, smiling. “Most of the time, I feel like a game warden in a wildlife preserve.”
“Wait’ll you hear this zoo story…,” Harry warned sarcastically, but George cut him off.
“Ed, I’d like your advice on something. Harry’s story is directly related.” Funny, George thought, at the office, Ed seems to be a lot older. He’s really quite young.
“You want advice on your report to the mayor concerning the adaptivity of the Fire Department, right, George?” Ed asked. “I read it….”
George nodded.
The young politician smiled nervously. “A ‘priority shift’ has been made on that.” He glanced sideways at Harry.
George noticed the look. “Ed, Harry’s OK, I assure you.”
Ed hesitated for just a moment, drawing a breath. To Harry, Ed seemed to be forming his words carefully in his mind before he spoke.
SO IT’S SECOND FIDDLE
“On the issue of Fire Department adaptivity, your preliminary report has helped the mayor to make his decision.”
“So my final report is no longer a top priority.”
“I have a good idea about what you two are talking about,” Harry interjected, “but before you get started, let’s get the waiter over here.”
George wondered how far back on the burner the Fire Department had been pushed. He sensed that the police commissioner’s chart for the future was now the official City Hall road map. If so, the aggravation and hard work that went into dealing with the chiefs of department in his role as management consultant for the mayor’s office had been in vain. He had hoped that it would lead to something positive. Lord knows the Fire Department could stand some constructive changes, a boost, he thought. This turn of events filled George with anger and bitterness.
The waiter took their orders. George faced Ed. “So, it’s second fiddle for the Fire Department?” he asked, with a trace of irritation set into his voice.
Ed thought before replying. “Can you convince the mayor that the Fire Department is the agency that he should focus on to address the most pressing needs of our city? That it’s prepared to embrace more willingly the changes that providing social safety requires— more willingly than the Police Department?”
George thought of his past sessions with the chiefs. He remembered their fanatical resistance to change, their fierce defense of what they called “The Job,” which was their way of “maintaining the system” via their propensity for “vertical thinking.” His attempt to promote “lateral thinking” had certainly been a failure. He recalled a chief mocking him at a meeting by preaching, “Keep the faith, Brothers.” I’d say that was a failure, George said to himself.
“No,” George softly answered Ed’s challenge, “quite honestly, I can’t.”
“I’m kind of disappointed,” Ed said compassionately. “I expected an argument of some kind. But never mind….” His voice became businesslike. “You wanted to bounce something off me?”
IT COULD BE CALLED ‘TREACHERY’
“Well,” George answered, “now it may be just an academic exercise. But it has to do with ‘suboptimization.’” He leaned toward Harry and explained, “Among friends it would be called ‘treachery,’ or in the military—at the very least —it would be called ‘insubordination.’ Management labels it ‘suboptimization.’
NEANDERTHAL THINKING
“It has to do with a manager having personal goals that are not really those of top management, or, for that matter, those of the organization.” He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Ed, you do still agree that the Fire Department is important enough to warrant some attention?”
“Don’t be facetious!” Ed laughed and accepted a glass of wine from the waiter.
“Well,” George continued, “it’s bad enough when suboptimization takes place on lower levels of command. But on the highest of levels, it really is unpardonable, especially if it deals a blow to growth. And in this case we’re talking about a department whose firefighters sorely need new avenues to explore.”
“Ah! That’s the real issue, isn’t it?” Ed smiled and pointed a finger at George. “I’ve read your preliminary report. It’s full of the need for change.”
Harry placed his glass down and said, “I think I should take it from here.”
Ed held up his hand and looked directly at George. “Before he starts, what do you want from me?”
“To listen, and then give me your opinion. Harry will tell you what he ran into. I feel that it’s symptomatic of a widespread problem that can kill like cancer…. What I want from you is advice on how far I should push for an incision to cut it out. You’re in the know, politically. I don’t want to cut into a dead horse.”
THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER
After a moment’s pause, Ed turned his attention to Harry. “What happened?”
Harry began. “OK. About three months ago, I was asked to help the fire science department in my college with its enrollment. After some preliminary research, it was felt that a closer association with the Fire Department should be developed through offering courses that would benefit the Department, the firefighters, and our city’s citizens. An EMT course and a course in emergency management command were decided upon.
“I had to convince the provost that the courses would be economically viable and would serve the community. After quite a lot of discussion, he agreed to supply funds and lend his support. I thought it was a great thing. He allocated funds for adjunct instructors, too— funds that otherwise might have been earmarked to float courses in another department.
“The dean of special programs also pledged his support in developing, staffing, and promoting the EMT course— no small task, since the state is very strict in its requirements regarding curriculum, teachers with special credentials, and special associations with outside organizations, in this case, a hospital. And I’m not even getting into the cost of special equipment.
“We also wanted to get the fire commissioner’s permission to teach the courses at the Fire Academy. It had never been done.”
Ed asked, “How did you find the commissioner?”
“The prince and the pauper,” Harry mischievously murmured. He saw the quizzical look on Ed’s face and continued, “He looked like a little prince, all dressed up with his hair combed just so. But mostly he behaved like a pauper. He was always broke. That’s how I nailed him —I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
“I assured him that the students who successfully completed the two courses would earn six college credits absolutely free of charge. I made sure he understood that the college was interested in offering only courses that would benefit his department. I pointed out that by cooperating with the college he would be providing valuable training for his firefighters, free of charge. The college would pay the salaries of the instructors, provide expertise and promotional skills—it was like placing steak before a starving man.”
Ed smiled and waved his hand in a gesture of understanding.
A JOURNEY TO NOWHERE
Harry continued. “Getting all that together took a good month. I thought it was in the bag. After all, the fire commissioner himself—the head of a semimilitary organization that prides itself on its chain of command—had said OK. Now I was on my way to the Fire Academy, managed by a chief and staffed by officers in the chain that, theoretically, runs directly from the commissioner to every firefighter in the department.
“The management course that we wanted to offer could easily be structured from what had been or was being taught at the Academy. The EMT course was being prepared in the college by experts. All that remained was to work out logistics. Both courses could have been in place for the spring semester.”
Harry shook his head. “How wrong I was,” he softly murmured. “How wrong I was.”
“What happened?” Ed asked, as the waiter placed meals in front of Harry and George.
Harry tasted his food before returning to his story. “Believe me,” he said, “it was only the beginning of an incredible journey to nowhere.”
Ed shifted in his chair and sipped his wine. He glanced at his watch. “Harry…”
“Sorry, Ed. Food’s pretty good here. Anyway, I ran into Chief Barton. He’s in charge of the Academy. He has an assistant…ahhh, let’s see…Chief Bell, that’s it. Each officer took turns lecturing me on the value of education and training and their deep belief in both. They bemoaned the educational apathy in the Department. Young firefighters, they claimed, had no interest in learning. All their efforts to mount voluntary programs of study at the Fire Academy had failed miserably.
“I explained that this time it would be different. This time, the college would be involved. We would lend our expertise in all areas, including promotion. I also indicated that the college’s research showed strong firefighter interest.
“The wonderful thing about it all, I explained, was that firefighters would be able to attend their Fire Academy and earn college credits. Eventually, with everyone’s help, it could blossom into the development of a special curriculum track leading to a degree. It could be the beginning of the Fire Academy drawing closer and closer to the college in a union that could be very fruitful. For example, the EMT course would, in effect, be a part of the Fire Academy.”
“Sounds excellent,” Ed remarked.
“They were especially interested in the tuition-free courses.”
“Go on,” George prompted.
“I thought I left the two chiefs on a high,” Harry explained. “I figured they were as happy as I was—even happier.”
CONCERN OVER AN EMT COURSE
“A week later, Chief Barton called for another meeting. He informed me that he was very concerned about teaching an EMT course. He was worried about the course being ready in time. It would be safer, he felt, to teach it at a later time. Before I knew it, the meeting ended, and I found myself back in the office of the dean of special programs.
NEANDERTHAL THINKING
“The dean quickly reassured me that it would be possible to stay in the area of EMT training. He had just received the state’s curriculum for a new course called ‘First Responder.’ It was really a shorter version of the EMT course we had proposed. State certification would be granted. And, if desired, a firefighter could continue for a full EMT certification. Putting the course into place required only a fraction of what a full EMT course demanded. I thanked the dean and immediately called Chief Barton to tell him the good news.”
I DON’T WANT THEM CERTIFIED
Harry could see that Ed was tiring of all the details. “Look, I know it seems like I’m going overboard with the fine points. But, believe me, it’s important that I do. I want to emphasize that a lot of people in the college were working hard to help get something going for a group that was willing to do nothing.
“Concentrate on the important things, Harry,” George said. He didn’t want to lose Ed.
“Yeah, sure. Picture the next meeting I had with Barton and his assistant. It was in his Fire Academy office. I was just about to mention how happy I was with the First Responder course when he leveled me with his opening statement. He said that he had been thinking about this EMT stufi’ and that he had ‘second thoughts about offering it at all.’
“’But, Chief,’ I protested, ‘everyone I talk to is for it. There’s great interest. And we haven’t promoted it at all.’ I explained that the new First Responder course was to be part of the state curriculum package involving EMT, and that it would easily be in place by next semester.
“I remember him looking at me for a long time before he said, I don’t think you are following me.’ Realizing that I had missed something, I retreated and waited for what was to come.
“‘It doesn’t make any difference what it’s called,’ he said. ‘I don’t want it taught at the Academy.’ ”
“I remembered our previous discussions and how high Barton had been on education. Of course, I asked him for reasons.
“‘Because,’ he said, ‘I don’t want firefighters getting certification as specialists. Especially that kind of certification.’
“‘Why not?’ I asked, not knowing what to expect.
“He said, ‘It’s a question of management not playing into the union’s hands.’
“Well, I still wasn’t clear on what he was getting at and told him so; he appeared annoyed at having to go further. ‘It’s simple,’ he said. ‘I don’t want them certified. I’m management and I don’t want to be responsible for giving the union another bargaining chip in future contract negotiations.’ So help me, that’s what he said.”
Harry slumped back in his chair, sighed deeply, and let the scene fade slowly away from his mind. His fork was still in his hand, pointed at the ceiling. Ed fingered the stem of his wine glass, speechless. He looked at George, who shook his head slowly from side to side. For a while, no one said a word. Harry finally broke the silence at the table.
“Can you believe it?” he asked. “I thought, Holy smoke—how am I going to deal with this man?’ But I knew that to argue would have been senseless. So I kept my cool and asked if there was another course that he could suggest be taught in its place. Without hesitation he replied, ‘Educational Methodology.’ I remember feeling surprised at how quickly he came up with a new course. But I sensed an exercise of military authority and knew all discussion was at an end.
“I went back to the college and apprised the provost and the dean of special programs of this new development and, with some embarrassment, informed them of the chiefs reasoning. I feel more to humor me than for any other reason, both said OK. The college would find a way to give credit for what the chief wanted.”
SECRET AGREEMENTS
“Anyway,” he went on, “a week later I found myself at another meeting with two captains—instructors at the Academy—and their immediate supervisor, a chief, who were selected by Chief Barton to be the ones to deal with me. I was assured by the two captains that mounting courses in educational methodology and emergency management command was entirely possible, but first some details had to be worked out.
“I reminded them that both the fire commissioner’s office and the commander of their Fire Academy had approved the idea of having such programs and that time was of the essence.
But they insisted upon setting a meeting for the next week.”
Harry smiled, then took a sip from his water glass. “I’m really trying to cut this short. Please bear with me.”
Ed waved him off. Now he was interested, and wanted to hear this story as much as Harry wanted to tell it.
Harry continued, “At the next meeting, both captains, apparently with the support of their chief, asked for money to develop courses that they were essentially teaching at the Fire Academy on an ongoing basis. I informed them that there were no funds from which they could be paid. A few days later, they informed me that it would take a considerable period of time for them to get the courses ready. At that moment, I sensed the beginning of real trouble.
“At yet another meeting with these same fellows, the truth started to emerge. It was a pity, they said, that I had not dealt with their little group before going to the commissioner or to the chief in charge of the Fire Academy. I was also told that the union had helped to establish the special extension of the officers training school to which they belonged, and that it was funded by a state grant of some kind—I can’t remember which one right now—so, even though they were part of the Academy, they weren’t quite like the other Academy officers. Some kind of elite force.
“They also informed me that it was bad business for them to offer firefighters a course in educational methodology before they were promoted, because then they would not need it after they got promoted—‘and where would that leave the staff of their promotional school?’ they asked. Furthermore, I was told—get this—that there was some kind of secret agreement between the union, the city, and the state not to teach a firefighter…”
“Secret agreement!?” Ed exclaimed, unable to contain himself.
“…not to teach a firefighter or require a firefighter to learn anything in a training course prior to their promotion that he or she will be required to learn after their promotion.”
Harry paused. “For the life of me, I still don’t understand that last part. But it went something like that.”
Ed was disturbed; his face was very red. George, hearing the story for the second time, had forgotten about dinner and had buried his face in his hands.
MANAGERS STEERING THEIR OWN COURSE
Harry said, “The story is nearly over. I debated with myself on how and when to discuss with Chief Barton what had transpired in my meetings with his people. I felt that their direct and open opposition to their commissioner and commanding chief warranted attention. I knew that without the help of Barton, the program I envisioned was dead.”
“What happened?” Ed asked.
Harry smiled and softly replied, “The very next day, Barton called and suggested that perhaps it would be best to forget the whole idea of starting a program. I reminded him that it was he who had suggested that the EMT course be replaced with Educational Methodology, a course depending on him for delivery. He simply repeated that he thought it would be best for all concerned to drop the idea of having a program. At least for the present.”
NEANDERTHAL THINKING
George broke in on Harry’s thoughts, directing his attention to Ed. He said, “Now you see why I wanted you to hear what Harry had to say. It’s hard to spot, but it’s not an isolated incident. I wanted you to get a feeling for its surreptitious, insidious nature. On the surface it doesn’t stand out as an earthshaking chain of events. But when you really think about it, you realize it’s devastating.
“I’ve thought a lot about Chief Barton, a chief who’s supposed to be in charge of training, whose real goal, apparently, is not to provide firefighters who can better serve the public, especially if it means that the firefighters will get more money out of it. Figure that one out.”
SOLID-ROCK PERCEPTION
George continued, “I mean, you have to realize the damage that this chief has done and probably is still doing. Can you believe that he killed the idea of an EMT course because he didn’t want firefighters to become certified experts in first aid? The really unbelievable part, the real irony, is that he sees himself as a good, loyal, valuable part of management.
“He’s afraid that he’ll be blamed for certifying experts! Can you imagine him testifying in a safety case? His testimony -in court would cost the city a fortune! And the sad tiling is the fire commissioner probably hasn’t the slightest idea of what he’s doing and—what’s more frightening—what others like him are up to.”
“Neanderthal,” Ed remarked sadly.
George didn’t hear Ed; he was on a roll. “You know, I have to give him credit, suggesting a course in educational methodology. He must have known the political ramifications of teaching such a course. It gave him the opportunity of playing the good guy in supporting the interests of his instructional staff and at the same time apparently supporting the cause of the union and their secret agreements on the right not to teach firefighters prior to their promotion. Finally, it gave him a wedge to suggest cancelling the entire fire service program.
“Wow! The program was not going to cost the Fire Department a red dime and probably would have been successful. By ‘successful’ I mean that the fire commissioner would have had the opportunity to reach into the professional staff of the college and structure any number of courses to help his department meet the demands of today’s world and, of even greater importance, help his department move into the world of tomorrow.
“Just think of it—firefighters could have had the opportunity to enjoy a tuition-free college education. And much of it taught at their own Fire Academy.
George paused. “Actually,” he muttered, “the Police Department is doing that at their Academy, right now. Man,” he asked in a disgusted tone, his voice getting low and raspy, “who the hell selected this guy to be in charge of training?”
NEANDERTHAL THINKING
“Definitely Neanderthal,” Ed firmly remarked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked.
Ed replied, “The two captains and their chief are small-potato Neanderthals looking to keep themselves warm and dry in their cozy little cave. They always live in caves hacked out of an organization. But the chief in charge— his thinking is what I call real Neanderthal. You know, ‘ape man.’ ” He searched for additional words. “Someone with solid-rock perception.”
“How far should I go with this in my report?” George asked.
Ed was on his feet. “Are you kidding? All the way! I knew it was bad. But if your perception of the problem is accurate, some drastic moves have to be made. We can’t wait for your report. I’ll tell the mayor what you let me in on tonight.” He paused. “I wonder,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s an out-of-date kind of organization, the fire service. Just how many Neanderthals are on the loose?”
George shrugged his shoulders.
“Thanks, Harry,” Ed said, offering his hand and receiving one in reply. “Your story will really convince the mayor that he made the right choice about where to focus the city’s resources.”
George’s first instinct was to offer his opinion of that choice, but he suddenly felt very tired. Instead, he and Harry sat quietly at the table after Ed left, each staring at nothing in particular. The waiter approached them. “Everything all right here?” he asked, and they nodded in unison. “May I take your plates?” The dinners were half-eaten, even Harry’s. Harry casually waved his approval. “Sorry,” he humorously apologized, “it wasn’t the food, it was the company. We ll take the check now—I mean, he’ll take it.” Harry pointed to his friend. George could only manage a bland smile.
“Say, George, he’s OK,” offered Harry, referring to Ed. “And ‘Neanderthal’—I like it. Why don’t you use it in your report?”
George just scowled.
