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Pradip Chanda, is a turnaround consultant
based in Delhi. He is the author of The Second Coming--Creativity
in Corporate Turnarounds |
Chrysler
corporation's revival in the early eighties remains one of the most
talked about turnarounds, and not just because Lee Iacocca authored
a bestseller. Iacocca's book did succeed in romanticising an otherwise
drab subject. But let us not miss amidst all the hoopla the three
critical phases-evaluation, cutting, and building-common to all
turnarounds, that helped the Chrysler transformation.
As most turnaround CEOs discover, the need for change is often painfully
obvious to all long before the restructuring actually begins. The
problem, in most cases, is created by the failure of managements
to monitor their companies' vital organisational and financial signs.
One sure-fire indicator of a company's decline
is the ad hoc creation of additional levels in its organisational
structure. While most turnaround managers focus on reducing the
workforce, they tend to ignore the insidious problem of swelling
managerial ranks. This problem gets exacerbated when the ratio of
staff to line positions starts tilting in the former's favour.
In the Chrysler restructuring, Iacocca was
able to identify and eliminate as many as 8,500 financial staff
positions, creating a more effective organisation. A more dramatic
illustration is what Percy Barnevik was able to achieve in Asea
Brown Boveri. Post merger, Barnevik restructured the head office
to which 1,300 operating companies and 5,000 profit centres in 140
countries reported. The main office headcount was reduced to 171
from a pre-merger level of 6,000. That meant only one out of 110
headoffice jobs was retained. The process released a lot of talented
people for core operations.
Administrative procedures are another vital
sign. There is no denying that controls are a must in any organisation.
But sometimes routine matters take up ridiculously high levels of
a company's resources.
During the Reagan era, an ops analysis at the
White House determined that buying a box of pins cost the US government
$10, but if the secretary nipped around the corner, she could pick
it up for 50 cents. Former Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi had
something similar in mind when he lamented that only 15 paise out
of each rupee spent on development reached the intended beneficiary.
I recall a former Army chief of staff recounting
an anecdote. While posted in Delhi as a junior officer, he had sent
in a written request for a footstool. He got a reply stating that
no funds were allocated for procuring footstools for someone of
his rank. Not the one to give up, the general sent another missive
on his earlier request. The correspondence continued till the other
side caved in and granted his request. The general had by then become
so exasperated with the whole affair that he replied hotly: ''You
keep the damn thing. The file containing our correspondence is thick
enough for me to use as a footstool.''
There are plenty of similar anecdotes. In one
of the MNCs I worked for, the marketing director had to exchange
acrimonious memos with an overzealous accounts clerk, explaining
why he ordered two cups of bed tea while on tour. The exchange did
not stop there. Eventually, the personnel department had to step
in to resolve the issue.
Such bureaucracy raises an interesting question.
Is it the centralised authority vested in senior managers that creates
problems or is it the powerless lot in between that creates artificial
power bases?
The turnaround CEO cannot afford to get entangled
in administrative webs. Restructuring the organisation to enable
rooting out artificial power bases must get the highest priority.
Eliminating staff jobs and relocating people in productive line
functions will help him do just that. Both Iacocca and Barnevik
will vouch for that.
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