In reading John Gunkler's interesting story about understanding money,
profit and motivation, I smiled. In my manufacturing company, a
family-owned, almost 90-year-old business with more than half its sales
outside the United States, the founder of the company had one of those
simple phrases which has become a part of the company oral tradition. Much
like the commercial on television which has a manger in wire-rimmed
glasses exhorting his employees to take care of customers, one customer at
a time, my company's founder said the following in the context of
profit-and-loss, bottom line, ad nauseum: "If you take care of the
customer's wants and needs, everything else will follow."
That was a profound statement back then, in the 20's, when industrial
society was constructed according to a mechanical model. There followed
many decades through which the model transformed into a biological model,
and then into today's societal model. All along, the concept of serving
someone's wants and needs has remained key for individuals who own, or
work in, organizations which provide goods or services.
I want to toot my company's horn. We are 700 here. We just sent a check
for over $180,000 to United Way. The chairman of my company (a family
member-owner) is chairman, too, of the McDowell Colony for artists. We in
this company extend ourselves well beyond the walls of manufacturing, and
into the local schools, service clubs, social service groups, etc. Just
like your companies certainly do. This organization places a premium on
service beyond a profit designed to allow me bread and a roof.
I tell participants in my learning programs that we are here, first and
foremost, to do three things:
Give the customer what the customer wants;
When the customer wants it;
At a fair price the customer will accept.
And with this simplification, we manage.
On a personal note, ever since my grade five experience in the fifties, I
had wanted to be a teacher. And for fifteen years after graduating from
Oberlin College, I was. That graduation year of 1968 was so tumultuous in
my personal and community life because of our involvement in Viet Nam,
that I became profoundly disillusioned by filthy lucre. It required
decades of observation to realize that there was far more to human
exchange than was contained in my self-contained world or my self-absorbed
notion of commerce.
My own transformation is a cliche today. Thousands of pages have been
written gratuitously about me and my generation. Nothing I can say here is
terribly new, but I tell this sort of anecdote, because I have learned
that there are always more than two sides to any story. Age can bring
tolerance in the face of mortality.
I wonder if the line moves? The line between knowing and feeling, the
subtle line like the moment where oxygen crosses from alveoli into blood.
The line between was is explicable and inexplicable. I wonder, too, if in
time you and I smile an inner smile because we come to "know" that the
knowing cannot be shared in the way we are so used to sharing. Eight
centuries ago, Rumi wrote these thoughts in Persian:
Listen to the presence inside poems,
Let them take you where they will.
Follow those private hints,
and never leave the premises.
Best regards,
Barry
-- Barry Mallis, Manager - Training and Development MARKEM Corporation www.markem.com | email: bmallis@markem.com voice: 603 357-4255 ext. 2578 | FAX: 603 352-0525Learning-org -- Hosted by Rick Karash <rkarash@karash.com> Public Dialog on Learning Organizations -- <http://www.learning-org.com>