Wednesday, August 3, 2011

What is Your Mission? - Part I


I’m somewhat of a traditionalist when it comes to business strategy formulation, even if not so traditional in my means and methods of management.  I’m an adherent to traditional methods of strategy formation – the steps to turn a mission into a strategy, and from there to tactics.  A central tenet of this is that everything you do in your business should flow directly from your mission.  Any activity that does not contribute to your stated mission is a waste of time and resources.

I believe a business needs a stated mission, and that it should be prominently displayed and reinforced with your customers, employees, and other stakeholders.  If they don’t know who you are and what you’re trying to achieve, it is hard to motivate them to get on board; employees won’t understand how to contribute, and ultimately your customers will go elsewhere.

This does not close the door on innovation and change.   To the contrary, that should be a featured part of your mission.

I had the opportunity to craft a new mission statement for my organization, a manufacturing plant, when I took the reins in 2009.  The organization at that time had a lot going for it; great people, customers, and physical assets.  It had, however, succumbed to inertia – embracing the idea that the way things had been done in the past meant continued success in the future.  This leads only to non-competitiveness, and ultimately failure.  The existing mission statement was mostly about “listening to the voice of the customer” and meeting corporate KPIs.  Really?  Your mission is to make your quarterly stats?

Our new mission statement is not short; it is not a marketing vehicle and contains no snappy catch phrases. It pointedly addresses what we do on behalf of all of our stakeholders (more about that in Part II).   Most of the new statement was accepted very well within the organization, but one statement, in the last line, raised more than a few eyebrows:
We acknowledge our weaknesses, and recognize them as opportunities for improvement.
The objections were not unreasonable; admitting weakness is difficult.  Doing so in full view of your stakeholders, more so.  My response to the objections was that this is the hallmark of a learning organization.  The plant had always expressed pride in its Operational Excellence programs – and yet suggestions that improvement meant that something wasn’t quite right in the first place were greeted with derision and fear.  This is incongruous.  In business, particularly in the hypercompetitive global market in which we operate, continuous improvement is imperative to survival.  In this context, admitting weakness is a strength; it is the absolutely necessary first step to improvement.


I had a great strategy professor in business school whose favorite statement was “Culture eats strategy for lunch”.  If that’s true – and I believe it is – changing the culture was a prerequisite to executing our strategy.  And thus a culture of transparency, reflection and learning had to be part of our mission.

I held firm and the statement is now indeed part of our mission statement, and a key part of our culture.  Our mission statement is displayed prominently in the plant.  I’m happy to report that our organization has taken it to heart; we ask for criticism now and instead of cowering from it, we turn it into actionable plans.  Customers and potential customers comment often (and favorably) on that phrase and on our transparency and eagerness to learn and improve.  Every misstep has become an opportunity to examine ourselves and to learn.  We retain customers even when we make mistakes, because we immediately acknowledge our error and apply corrective and preventative measures.  We owe our customers, and ourselves, no less.

If you are making a buying decision, I would urge you to consider this in your selection.  An organization that professes perfection is lying to you, and quite possibly to itself.  The former is opaque and disingenuous; the latter, in business terms, is fatal.