Aug 18

Early in my career, I was sent on a problem-solving course offered by Kepner-Tregoe. Best I can tell, Kepner-Tregoe has been around for near ever, and deservedly so. Through consulting and training, it helps clients implement strategies by improving their problem-solving, decision-making, project execution and issue-resolution skills and processes.

My take-aways from the two-day course included a good understanding of root causes and a terrific mug that graced my desk for the next thirty odd years. Over the three decades, I sipped at least 20,000 cups of coffee from my KT mug, protected it zealously from grasping hands, and washed it at least… oh… a dozen times.

The KT approach to problem-solving involves five logical steps that sound just like the Scientific Method you learned in high school; despite this – or because of this – it has been incorporated into Six Sigma, Lean Manufacturing and ITIL (the Information Technology Infrastructure Library). It is, in my opinion, both too simplistic and too complex a methodology. So, despite the whole build-up, the truth is I seldom, in fact, used KT for my own problem-solving. I’ve always found that nothing is that simple and, when you get down to it, seldom is any problem so complex.

So, what was my approach to solving seemingly intractable problems?

Step 1:

When faced with the most confounding problems, I have learned that you’ve got to go deep – yes, to the root – to find the cause. In that, KT and I are aligned. The first step – before you start digging – is to clear away all of the rubble. You’ve got to be honest with yourself and with your colleagues. You’ve got to put aside not only paradigms and prejudices, but also personal pets (people, products and projects). Otherwise, you will reject the obvious. Believe me, when you look back on a tough problem that has been solved, the cause will inevitably, in retrospect, have turned out to be obvious. (Note: In retrospect, everything is inevitable.)

Step 2:

For this, I refer to Murphy’s Law. Actually, two laws from Murphy’s Law, Book Three. Here they are:

Hoare’s Law of Large Problems: Inside every large problem is a small problem struggling to get out.

The Schainker Converse to Hoare’s Law of Large Problems: Inside every small problem is a larger problem struggling to get out.

To illustrate these seemingly paradoxical laws, I will, with apologies, use General Motors. Certainly enough ink has been and will continue to be spilled on this colossal corporate quagmire and commentary has and will continue to come from many closer to the scene than I. But I am a ‘car guy’ and can hardly help myself.

GM presents a very large problem indeed. The problem (if it makes sense to consider it a single problem) seems to be insurmountable. But, if you dig a little, you would find that the crux of GM’s problem has been, fundamentally and for some time, poor design. This is a very specific issue buried under an avalanche of crises. (Hoare’s Law) The poor design reflects a misunderstanding of the market caused by management arrogance as much as anything else. Management arrogance is a very large problem that is easily glossed over because arrogance, by its nature, is amorphous, subtle and self-propagating. The problem of design in this case (and, frankly, in many others) is really a symptom of the disease of arrogance. (Schainker Converse)

It all started back in the Alfred Sloan era. Sloan led GM from 1923 to 1946. He was a management and marketing genius. Credit Sloan for inventing brand families, annual model changes, planned obsolescence, and the market for used cars.

Sloan gave each car division its own price and style categories. Decades later, demographics changed, as did market dynamics. But the old divisions remained, along with too many old ideas. As Buick’s prime customer aged, however, so did the brand message. And so did the car’s technology. Pontiac’s demographic didn’t age; it simply disappeared. Badge engineering not only removed Saab from its demographic, but made it impossible to figure out what that demographic was. Also impossible to figure out was Saturn‘s value proposition, which changed as the Division tried to go mainstream. Meanwhile, in a market becoming increasingly compact, GM could never figure out how to make a small car. Or, more precisely, couldn’t really see the point of putting a lot of value into such a small margin vehicle. Think Xerox and Canon.

The fact is that better design would go a long way to saving GM. The Enclave SUV saved Buick from extinction and the new La Crosse (Allure in Canada) will safeguard its survival. The CTS brought Cadillac back from the brink, but the STS and DTS are so long in the tooth that even the ancients won’t bite. Chevrolet has a little bit of everything, though not enough of anything really special. Malibu, like all the GM cars built on the Epsilon platform, is pretty good. The Camaro is competitive, though no major threat to Mustang in the pony car wars. The Volt, however, could be a game changer.

Bringing Bob Lutz out of retirement was a terrific move – even if Lutz is a Neanderthal. It was a great move because Lutz is very good at what he does. He saw that the various divisions had a lot of similarity but little synergy. He fixed the product development process. His appointment also showed that senior management recognized a very specific issue midst the clutter and was willing to sacrifice the comfort and challenge the slow pace that was the status quo.

Which brings us to Step 3.

Step 3:

Fix the problem fast and, if possible, fix it once and for all.

Epilogue: On April 1, 2009, Lutz stepped down on from his position as Vice-Chairman of Global Product Development and will retire from GM at the end of 2009. Lutz said that one reason for his decision was the regulatory climate in Washington that would force him to design what the feds want rather than what customers want.

Postscript: Lutz is back, this time in a marketing role. This makes no sense. Lutz is a design guy. His way of being and his way of talking make him far from an ideal marketing guy. Oh well.

Note: The 1960 Corvette pictured above is a classic example of good design.