‘The Problem of Change: and the Essential Nature of Human Performance’, by Ashley Goodall
It is a brave person to take on the cult of change, at whose altar most of the world’s corporate advisors and many of their board-level clients like to worship. But this elegantly written dissection of the worst of modern corporate mismanagement has an entertaining trick for toppling the cult’s false idols.
As Ashley Goodall points out, large-scale change “once unleashed, takes on a life of its own.” It breaks the established relationships and rituals that make work worthwhile, leaving discontent and depression in its wake.
The late one, great. Clayton Christensen This is a gentle kick to inspire companies’ obsession with automatic disruption, although Goodall acknowledges that the “improvement model” that Christensen presented in The innovator’s dilemma metastasized into a harmful fixation on change for the sake of it, rather than directly advocating for it. Rampant consultants and self-serving micromanagers bear most of the blame.
Goodall locates the solution in that most maligned of corporate functions: human resources. This is also brave. It draws on his own experience in human resources, especially at Cisco, to develop innovative ways to measure employee engagement and drive performance. But many readers will respond with a disdainful snort at the idea of HR someday becoming “a staunch advocate for employees and their interests.”
There is a lot of well-expressed wisdom here about the futility of corporate life and how to combat it. Instead of “throwing little slide balloons into the executive suite in the hope that something will happen,” Goodall writes that more of us should learn how to “understand and create the conditions for human flourishing, and then….” . . “step back and let humans flourish.” andres hill
‘The Venture Mindset: How to Make Smarter Bets and Achieve Extraordinary Growth’, by Ilya Strebulaev and Alex Dang
Should we all think more like venture capitalists? That’s the argument of Stanford scholar Ilya Strebulaev and technology executive Alex Dang, who argue that by adopting the “risk mindset” of Silicon Valley investors, business leaders elsewhere can be more attentive to risk and risks. opportunities.
Now that artificial intelligence is shaking up a wide range of industries, his advice—part self-help and part executive coaching, articulated with extensive case studies—is timely. They argue that executives should emulate the defining characteristics of the venture capitalists who helped spawn Google, Apple, Tesla and Facebook. That includes building diverse networks and thinking long-term.
However, like the venture capitalists themselves, the authors are blunt and biased. Venture capitalists are “brains” who “find and fund the future,” they declare at the beginning of the book. By dissecting the success of companies from Nintendo to Zoom, the authors highlight the merits of entrepreneurship and the willingness of leaders to “pivot” to new lines of business and make risky bets.
These are common characteristics of the success stories told in The risk mentality. But they are also characteristics of most venture capital-backed startups that don’t make it. Executives at more established companies may not be willing to accept the authors’ prescription of embracing failure and encouraging internal dissent.
Strebulaev and Dang’s focus on investors is a rare departure from typical founder-centric explorations of startup success. But it excludes the myriad failed investments, bad bets and failures that have also given rise to the risk mentality. Venture capitalists accept that nine out of ten bets could fail; that logic is not applicable everywhere. George Hammond
‘Get Better at Anything: 12 Maxims for Mastery’, by Scott H Young
Learning is often mysterious. Sometimes it comes naturally, in other cases it poses challenges. Whether our goal is to become proficient or simply to get better at something, it is helpful to understand how learning works.
Bestselling author and entrepreneur Scott H Young delves into the fundamental principles that researchers have discovered explain this. He condenses these principles into 12 memorable maxims that can serve as a guiding framework for our quest for improvement.
According to Young, three essential factors contribute to our learning process. First we learn from others (see), then we practice consistently (do). Finally, we adjust and engage to improve (feedback).
The book was written with two audiences in mind. Approached from the student’s perspective, it offers strategies and techniques to use to achieve better results in everyday activities. Teachers, coaches, parents, and others responsible for shaping learning within an organization can also benefit from advice on how to harness the power of continuous development.
Chapters include real-life examples and exercises that can help you whether you are studying for an exam, learning a new skill at work, or aiming to get better at a hobby or topic of interest. Interestingly, Young argues that broad competencies such as creativity or problem solving are difficult to improve. But she says we can improve our skills in these areas with practice. “Even when we can’t become the best, we can be a little better at the things that matter most to us,” Young reminds us. “A little better is usually enough.” Leo Cremonezi
‘The Speculators: How Companies Privatize Profits and Socialize Costs’, by Christopher Marquis
Most economics students will be familiar with the concept of externalities: “the negative side effects of a company’s operations and practices that are not accounted for in its profit and loss statements,” according to Professor Christopher Marquis. from Judge Business School. In this engaging read, he brings to life the real-world manifestations of this rather dry term, showing how the public and the environment pay the hidden costs of business while irresponsible corporations reap the rewards.
Examples range from industrial carbon emissions causing climate change, flooding and crop failures; to discriminatory practices that hold back the marginalized; to huge imbalances in income and returns that entrench inequality. Marquis reserves special ire for greenwashing companies that pretend to be responsible while wreaking havoc on the planet and doing little to clean it up.
At its root, he maintains, is shareholder capitalism in which corporations “only engage in activities that increase profits” and limit liability for any harm they cause. However, despite its systemic diagnosis, the book does not despair. It details many encouraging examples of change and is not limited to radical projects. Marquis argues that large investment portfolios, for example, are well positioned to take externalities into account because some of their companies will inevitably be affected by the risks created by the profits of others. Other examples include a partnership between sneaker makers Allbirds and Adidas to create low-carbon shoes.
Marquis, whose previous book on B Corps championed the transformative power of purpose-driven businesses, suggests we might be ripe for a paradigm shift. Not all readers will be convinced by his optimistic argument that business and consumer activism and “commons-first finance” will be enough to truly turn the tide. But the book makes a strong case that systemic change is possible and necessary. Bethan Staton
‘The Complete Story: Adventures in Love, Life, and Capitalism’, by John Mackey
John Mackey’s joyful memoir begins in 1975, with the future natural foods entrepreneur taking a stroll through Texas. At the time he had no idea that he would end up co-founding Whole Foods, a global company with 540 stores and $22 billion in annual sales. His account of how he got there is not your usual business book and has as many twists and turns as one would optimistically expect from a narrator with the story of Mackey’s life.
It’s a fun read. Mackey defends, with equal sincerity, the advantages of stakeholder capitalism and “the joy of total liberation” experienced by taking LSD. He is a likeable narrator who recounts the adventure with delight and fascination.
Yet there is something cloying about this naïveté, particularly when complex and controversial business decisions are recounted in the same tone. Recalling clashes with the unions, Mackey seems to repel “contrarian” worker organizing: it is, he says, the antithesis of his vision in which management and labor work together as “stakeholders, with openness .. .”. . . joy and love.” Although he later discovers that some of his hopes are disappointed, his account of Amazon’s 2017 purchase of Whole Foods also shows no curiosity about less benevolent business instincts. The discussion about the “marriage” between the grocery stores and the tech conglomerate boils down to one question: “Do you think they like us too?”
The framework here is that of an intellectual journey towards “conscious capitalism”; a personal account of the philosophy described in Mackey’s 2013 book of the same name. Mackey is a true believer: in his view, not only its “conscious” iteration but the entire “game of capitalism” is “built on the simple and beautiful principle of voluntary exchange for mutual benefit.” His account of coming to this understanding is charming, readable, and champions Mackey’s positive impact. But even moderately cynical readers will probably find his childish joy frustratingly disinterested in examples where such an optimistic view of the system does not apply. Bethan Staton