Years ago, I read a book entitled The One Minute Manager by M Spencer Johnson, M.D. and Ken Blanchard. I followed it up with The One Minute Manager Meets the Monkey. As I recall, I was younger at the time and I was pretty sure that, with just a bit of effort, I could single-handedly shift the earth’s axis of rotation. At least, that is, if I was not expected to handle everyone else’s problems at the same time. That monkey business, therefore, meant something to me. Apparently, I was not alone. Meets the Monkey made it big. Pretty soon there was the full and exhaustive One Minute Manager Library, a colossus that covered a spread approximately equal to the Ottoman Empire.

According to legend, a short while after the OMM became a phenomenon, the good doctor went through some personal stuff. He created the story of Who Moved My Cheese? to help him deal with a difficult change in his life, “learning”, say the promos “how to take his changing situation seriously without taking himself seriously” and, eventually, turning a negative into a positive.

Who Moved My Cheese? is a simple story about two guys and two mice and how they had to deal with cheese being moved around in a maze. Two decades after the story was created, Who Moved My Cheese? was finally published. It became a #1 international bestseller, with one million hardcover copies in print within the first sixteen months and over ten million copies within the next two years.

Cheese Wiz

Critics of the book say that the story is simple enough for a child to understand and that it insults their intelligence. Simple it is. And insulting it is. Even allowing for the child-like drawings of cheese (you know… Swiss-style wedges with holes) that are strategically placed as filler between thoughts, there is not enough substance here to fill a… well… a ham and cheese sandwich.

The author claimed that it is not what is in the story of Who Moved My Cheese? but how you interpret it and apply it to your own situation that gives it value. I hope so, because there is virtually nothing in the story. If you are determined to part with a twenty, find a homeless person in the street and hand it over. Look closely at both your circumstances and see if you come away with anything of value. It is likely you will and, best of all, the twenty you part with is almost assuredly money better spent than had you bought the cheese book.

Cheese is touted as the world’s #1 book on change and Johnson the world’s #1 business author. Ridiculous hyperbole…unless you are referring to sales $. Then it’s just ridiculous.

Here’s the Poop

We move from the paper thin veneer of pop business culture to the thicker one of poop culture. Kirk Weisler, who is managing to carve himself a neat career as a motivational speaker, also draws from real life in his narrative, The Dog Poop Initiative.

The ‘essence’ of the story, done in rhyme, is that a dog poops on a soccer field. Coaches, refs and little tykes play around it. Finally, one coach takes the initiative and picks up the offending lump. To quote, “The Scoopers take the initiative and are the ones who lead the way. They make the field a better place for all the rest to play.” There you have it. All of it. Leadership in a nutshell, so to speak.

At least the drawings are cute.

I admit to having attitude. But then I also admit to having standards. I probably shouldn’t be so crotchety about this thing, but I believe that if business people are going to commit valuable time and hard-earned money to reading, they should be rewarded with substance, something that passes for original insight, and at least a smidgeon of scholarship.

I’ve nothing against best-sellers. But spend the time with those who’ve taken the time. You want to change your life? Try Stephen Covey. You want to change your company? Read Jim Collins. There are just too many good books, serious writers and deep insights out there to waste your time on poorly written pap put out by cynical publishers.

Where lies the future of management? Are the days of top-down management over? Is hierarchy dead? Has Catbert used up the last of his nine nasty lives? Gary Hamel thinks so.

In The Future of Management (Harvard University Press, October 2007), Hamel makes the case - showcasing several companies that have abandoned traditional models - that we are slowly but inexorably moving towards more democratic, bottom-up systems of management.

One example given is Whole Foods which has the people in, say, the vegetable department, managing the vegetable department. Managing includes hiring, buying, pricing, merchandising and selling. The theory is that the people at ground zero would be in the best position to know who would fit comfortably in the group, what products people are looking for and how best to serve them.

Of course, one might argue that hiring in these circumstances would be self-serving. A traditionalist would claim that buying is best done by professional buyers who understand the dynamics of pricing in the context of a global supply chain, who keep close tabs on the fluctuating prices of commodities (including vegetables), and who are skilled negotiators. Old style marketers would protect their turf by pointing out that the value of the Whole Foods brand is predicated on convincing consumers that they are buying non-industrialized foods and that this image requires careful nurturing and merchandising. Pricing would be particularly sensitive since consumers buying into the Whole Foods positioning strategy are generally willing to pay more.

Senior managers protecting their creaky hierarchies would insist that building an organization requires a broad accounting of human resources, that hiring, developing and rewarding staff must be seen - and managed - globally. Those who cannot escape their administrative and financial roles would want to centralize reporting, perhaps impose an ERP system, track GMROIs and the like. All in all, it would be tough to keep old style managers at bay.

Over the years, I have seen companies decentralize and then, some time later, recentralize. I have witnessed, first-hand, the effectiveness or lack thereof of a variety of organizational models, including something that on paper looked vaguely like a pizza. I have lived through corporate de-layering or flattening (take your pick). In the end, none of it means anything unless everyone, at all levels, executes.

Trust me on this: if an organization’s head is screwed on straight and each person does his or her job properly, the old management system works just fine.