Читать книгу Who Killed Change?: Solving the Mystery of Leading People Through Change - Ken Blanchard - Страница 6

AT nine o’clock the next morning Agent McNally, sitting in the same conference room where Change had been killed, read through his file. He looked up as Carolina Culture entered the room. He knew she’d be his first interview but he would never have recognized her. Culture was small and unassuming, neither attractive nor unattractive. She had no distinguishing features, and he thought that if he passed her on the street, he probably wouldn’t notice her.

“Good morning,” said McNally, trying to hide his surprise. “How are you today?”

“Very well,” Culture responded. “And you?” Her voice was smooth and low.

“Good, good. Thank you very much.” McNally was thinking, Why am I asking her how she is? I don’t ask people how they are. I ask them questions about the crime.

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Did you have some questions for me?” she said.

“Yes, I do. Where were you yesterday morning?” he asked.

“I was here. I’m here most all the time.”

McNally did not interpret her comment as either whining or martyrdom. It came across as just matter-of-fact. “Did you visit any departments?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. I make my rounds. I’m in every department most every day.”

“Did anyone see you up here yesterday?”

“That’s an interesting question,” Culture replied. “People here are really busy. And let’s face it—my role isn’t exactly high profile. So I really can’t answer that. You’ll have to ask them.”

McNally found himself straining to hear her. “How would you describe your relationship with Change?” he inquired.

Culture did not hesitate. “Discreet,” she offered.

McNally prodded, “Can you help me with that?”

“Change’s role is designed to be high profile,” she replied. “He consulted me a few times but, in general, it was behind closed doors.”

McNally replied, “He consulted you? Were you able to help him?”

“I think so. It’s hard to say. It’s not my style to micromanage. Since he never discussed any problem with me twice, I assumed he was able to work through the challenges he was facing,” she said.

“Micromanage—does that mean Change reported to you?”

“Oh, no,” Culture said. McNally thought he noticed a hint of a smile. “No one reports to me. I’ve been around here longer than you would believe. My role has always been to define the beliefs that guide how we operate here. You could think of my role as a compass that points in a direction, but it’s not a map that details how to get from point A to point B.”

“So, what was it that Change consulted you about last?” McNally asked.

“VALUES!” Culture replied so loudly that McNally found himself backing up in his chair. She continued at a volume that was much too loud for the size of the room and their proximity to each other. “Change wanted to use our organizational values to leverage what he was trying to get accomplished. I tried to teach him that if your actions are consistent with your values, you have a better chance of success.”

“And those values are…?” McNally asked in a soft voice that was perhaps an unconscious attempt to normalize her previous intensity. It didn’t work. Culture launched into an even louder monologue that McNally could describe only as overly rehearsed.

“V is for Very Efficient. To reach our business goals, we must operate in a manner that is very efficient. We have to appropriately allocate resources and control our costs.

“A is for A Customer Focus. We have many customers and we have to provide each of them with the highest level of service.

“L is for Lots of Teamwork. We can achieve more by working as a team. At ACME we believe ‘no one of us is as smart as all of us!’

“U is for Understanding. At the core of understanding is listening. Each individual will bring a point of view to a situation or opportunity. By listening and understanding all points of view, we will make better decisions.

“E is for Excellence. Our products are our livelihood. Anything less than excellent is unacceptable.”

The contrast between his first impression of Culture and the strength of her presentation about ACME’s values was stark. But then McNally considered that strength and decibel level were not necessarily synonymous. He detected no passion in her delivery and sensed that the volume was a substitute for real feeling.

“The values you speak of come through loud and clear,” McNally said. “But I’m betting there’s a disconnect between those values and what’s actually going on here.”

Culture did not respond. McNally made a mental note that he had not seen Culture blink the whole time they had been talking.

“Would you mind responding to that?” McNally asked politely.

“Sure—but I didn’t perceive it to be a question,” she said, lowering her voice. “As I told you before, my job is to lay the groundwork and to point in a direction. I don’t control whether the individuals or teams live by our values.”

McNally wondered how well Culture knew Accountability. He knew that if Accountability were doing his job well, he would reinforce the behaviors that drive Culture. McNally had worked enough cases to know that there was always some gap between espoused values and the day-to-day behaviors of people in that organization. At this place, he suspected it was more of a wide gulf than a small gap. Surmising that Culture was not going to take any responsibility for the disparity, McNally changed tactics.

“Any idea who killed Change?” he asked.

“Not a clue,” Culture responded immediately.

“But surely,” McNally coaxed, “with your long history here and the long hours you put in and with your obvious influence on the organization, you must have some idea of who didn’t like Change—someone who wanted to get Change out of the way.”

“You flatter me, Agent McNally. Yes, I’ve been around a long time and I do work a lot of hours. I would like to think that I have had, and still have, some influence on this organization. But I still can’t tell you who killed Change.”

Again McNally found himself leaning forward, mesmerized by the honeyed tone of Culture’s voice.

There was a long pause. Then Culture asked, “Anything else?”

“No, I think that’s about it. Where can I find you if I have more questions?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ll be around,” she said.

Again McNally thought he caught a glimpse of a smile. He looked down to consult his notes to see who was next on the list. He looked up and began, “Thank you for your—”

But Culture was gone. He looked behind him and the door was closed. He had not heard it open or shut. With some embarrassment, he actually pulled his chair back and looked under the conference table. Nothing. No one was there.

That’s just downright eerie, he thought. Just downright eerie.