Unlock Editor’s Digest for free
FT editor Roula Khalaf selects her favorite stories in this weekly newsletter.
The writer is the author of ‘Uncharted: How to Navigate the Future’.
Changes are more difficult than they seem. The stories (always told in reverse) suggest that a single hero, usually a man, arrives in town, makes bold and dangerous decisions, and emerges triumphant in the blink of an eye. These myths are dangerous because they focus on one man erasing the past. These heroes can be as risky as the danger they face. Is that the situation Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who owns a minority stake in Manchester United and is responsible for the club’s football operations, now finds himself in?
United’s restart is certainly eagerly awaited. But Ratcliffe’s early tactics are worrying. Telling fans that their beloved team is “mediocre” may be a brutal truth, but it doesn’t instill faith in them or the players. Sowing blame and recrimination is a mistake, when the first thing any organization needs for the painful journey from failure to success is hope.
A fundamental stimulus is what Alan Mulally provided to Ford in 2006, when the company had just recorded losses of 12.7 billion dollars. Instead of labeling his workforce as losers, he restored their competence by restoring mutual trust and forcing them to focus on the future, not the past. Just as important as the financial restructuring was Mulally’s insistence on changing the culture. Ford executives learned to help each other, recognizing that this meant that no person succeeds alone. You might expect this to be well understood in the sports world, but it is extremely rare.
Similarly, Satya Nadella’s turnaround of Microsoft, at a time when critics were preparing obituaries for the company, was defined by a focus on learning and growth rather than competitive points for achievements. that had become famous.
It’s easier to inspire confidence in a new team when you can demonstrate prior, relevant success. Mulally had a more auspicious start, having just pulled Boeing back from the brink. Nadella already knew Microsoft’s demons well. Ratcliffe lacks those advantages. His tremendous achievement at Ineos is not even comparable to reviving a football team, while his multiple sports investments have not proven that he brings any special magic to the sector.
Indeed, his overconfidence in spending £3m to secure sporting director Dan Ashworth, only to be ousted five months later, suggests not so much audacity or experience as panic. Reboots are always urgent. But clarity and consistency matter at least as much as speed. Ford took eight years, Apple, with the return of Steve Jobs, four, Chipotle five and Lego seven.
It is notable that changes begin with cost reduction, because containing losses is crucial. But there are options on how to achieve them.
You can just fire people. Or you can use this crucial moment to reinforce solidarity. When Nokia began its reinvention as an internet infrastructure provider in 2013, it had to lose 12 percent of its staff. But instead of blaming his employees, Nokia President Risto Siilasmaa explicitly took responsibility and gave them options: help them find new jobs, retrain, return to education, or get support for a new business.
Ratcliffe, on the other hand, seems to be doing everything he can to alienate the community that adores and supports his team. He could be, as he frequently reminds them, a local boy who grew up on a council estate. But in a time of job losses and rising living costs, raising ticket prices and removing discounts on unsold tickets shows little understanding or sympathy for fans.
The surprising thing about Manchester United’s attempted recovery is that it seems much more focused on destruction than creation. A new stadium may be a glorious prospect, but what matters is what’s going on inside people’s heads.