The 2084 Precept (13 page)

"But they don't," said Fred.

"But they don't," I replied, "at least often
enough they don't. Our guy is now hunting for the tool in several
of the different factory areas where he knows from experience it
might be."

"From experience?" Charlie this time.

"Oh yes, this happens to him quite a lot," I
said, "but this time he got lucky. As you will see, he'll be back
in another two minutes."

I retriggered the video and, sure enough,
our guy eventually reappeared on the screen and continued working
until his set-up was complete. It had taken him forty minutes. He
turned and waved at the camera and strolled off in the direction of
a coffee machine. I stopped the film again and told them that we
had then formed a small group with this guy, two of his colleagues,
and a lady from administration, just to analyze this single set-up
operation.

“Why a lady from administration?” asked Ron
immediately. ”Because ladies can have good ideas just as often as
men, and sometimes better ones too,” I said, “and because people
working in other areas might also see the woods that the others
can’t see because of the trees.

They met twice a week for one hour—no more
time available—with the goal of introducing improvements to reduce
the time needed for this set-up operation. The costs of the
improvements were not to exceed £4,000 maximum. We placed a factory
floor office at their disposal for the meetings, and made sure that
coffee, tea and biscuits were available.

And after only four weeks they had not only
come up with a lot of ideas but they had also implemented them.

"This, gentlemen," I continued, "is how the
set-up looks now." And I triggered the video again.

The set-up took about eight seconds.
Unscrew, slide into place, lock, screw.

"Miss it?" I asked, "I'll show it
again."

Eight seconds.

"That's it. They had some clever ideas and
they hardly cost any money. One of the ideas was to create a forced
locking point for the measurement gauge, no more need to keep
adjusting it until it's right and," I added meaningfully, "the
additional benefit is improved quality, which not only means
happier customers, but also less scrap or rework. This gauge is now
accurately placed to the millimeter, automatic each time, no trial
starts to a production run, no re-feeding, no throwing defects
away. Want to see it again?"

I showed it to them again. Eight seconds.
Nobody said anything.

"And now to my recommendations, gentlemen.
You may wish to consider setting up small groups of employees, each
group being tasked with reviewing a single operation from the
schedule I have given you. They will only be able to meet for an
hour or so each week but, believe me, they will be really
motivated, they will enjoy it, they are being asked to do something
requiring a lot of thought, and they are away from their routine
tasks. It's creative, and it is also pleasant for them to be able
sit in an office once a week and have the company supply them with
refreshments."

I paused, waited for comments or questions.
There were none, so I continued again.

"My second recommendation is that we also
study which of these set-up operations can be performed
outside
of production hours
, i.e. either before or after production
hours. That would further add to our production volumes and at the
same time we wouldn't have a lot of employees hanging around doing
nothing until someone has set up their machines for the next
production run."

I paused again but nobody was saying
anything.

"And my third recommendation is—remember the
example of the guy and his screwdriver—that we set up an employee
suggestion scheme. A permanent one. But a permanent scheme must be
properly managed. Every employee must always receive an immediate
answer to his or her suggestion, and be regularly informed of the
situation until a decision is taken. And if the suggestion is
accepted, he or she must be informed of its completion. With a big
thank you. You may also wish to create a prize for the best
suggestion or two each quarter, or once a year if you prefer,
nothing expensive, perhaps a weekend for two persons in Paris via
the Eurostar—or whatever. But, frankly, a prize is not necessary.
Money is not the real issue here, money is not why most people make
suggestions. Most of us make suggestions because it makes us feel
we are contributing something, it makes us feel useful, and like
everybody else, we like to know that we are at least being listened
to, and we also enjoy receiving a small show of recognition from
time to time."

Nothing could be truer. I paused and looked
at each one of the attendees, whose own particular enjoyment of
recognition was usually to be found in the receipt of bonuses,
stock options and so on.

"But a word of warning," I continued, "most
employee suggestion schemes eventually collapse, and sometimes
fairly quickly. The schemes slowly cease to be managed and
controlled properly. Management interest declines or wasn't
sufficient in the first place, employees note the disinterest and
the logical result is that the schemes just simply fade away. If
this you think this might happen here at Clark's, if you are not
convinced of the value of such a scheme, if you are not going to
commit yourselves and some of your personal time on a continuous
basis, then I recommend you do not even start. You would avoid the
resulting loss of respect and confidence in management."

I looked around me, smiled and added, "As
and when our profitability is such that we can afford to invest in
more modern machinery, then obviously a significant portion of this
particular issue will resolve itself. In the meantime, we first of
all have to create that kind of profitability, and this is just
another of those areas in which, in my view, we can do some work to
achieve that."

I was finished, took a long swig of
water.

"Thank you gentlemen, I have kept it short,
and now your comments, thoughts and criticisms would as usual be
very welcome."

There was some stirring around the table and
a few sidelong glances at Fred.

"Ron?" said Fred.

"Hmm…well it certainly seems to be something
we should take a look at. I'd like to discuss it with my shop floor
supervisors. I'm not so sure about the employee suggestion scheme.
As you know we tried that about five years ago. It took up a lot of
our time and it didn't work."

I'll believe that, I thought to myself. Like
80% of all companies they probably had no idea how to run it, and
nowhere near enough top management involvement to ensure its
ongoing success. I would have to help them on this one, tell them
what needs doing, how to organize it, who has responsibilities for
what, and make it clear that they had to devote some personal time,
no matter how busy they were.

"Go ahead and talk to your guys, Ron," said
Fred, "but do it quickly please. It seems to me that this is
something we should get moving on fast. Peter's examples appear
downright convincing to me."

He looked meaningfully at his production
boss and then turned to me.

"Peter," he said, "Many thanks for the
presentation. I recall your first one, about three or four months
ago I think, when we were all wondering what this 'consultant' with
no experience in our industry could possibly bring to the table.
Your subject on that occasion was product mix. That had us
scurrying around checking up on your statistics and confirming what
you had already told us: namely, that these were our own sales and
marketing people's opinions in the first place. And, as you know,
we took some important decisions as a result."

Thus proving that yet another definition of
consultant
was alive and well. A consultant is a person who
is paid a lot of money to tell management what their own employees
have been trying to tell them for years.

"Since then you have made several
presentations and recommendations, and although we have not chosen
to implement
everything
," and here he paused for a moment
and grinned, "we have certainly chosen to implement
almost
everything. And you have also done a lot of the implementing for
us."

He paused again and looked around the table.
There came an 'indeed', a 'hear, hear' and a couple of nods. Oh
we're all the same, I love the recognition too, exaggerated or not,
don't we all? Good for the soul if, as I always say, you happen to
know what a soul is.

"And," continued Fred, "regarding today's
subject matter, I think we will pursue your recommendations
ourselves. I believe there are one or two other items you are still
working on?"

"Yes, Fred," I replied, "There are still a
couple of areas where I believe I can contribute, but due to the
postponement of Friday's H.Q. meeting until next Monday, I have no
idea whether the bosses will wish me to continue or, if so, for how
long. In the meantime I'll be spending a few days at home in
Germany."

"Well, with the hours you've put in here, I
am sure that none of us will be grudging you that. No problem,
we'll wait to hear either from you or from Roger himself—but in the
event you are not to continue, you would hopefully drop by to say
cheerio?"

"Fred," I said, "I wouldn't dream of not
doing so. All of you guys, and your staff, have been incredibly
cooperative, courteous and friendly towards this disruptive
intruder here. You have made my stay a really enjoyable one. I
would hope that the very least we can do is sink a couple of pints
before I disappear into the mists of time."

"We'll do our best on that Peter, but let's
hope you will be with us for a while longer. Any more questions or
comments, folks, before we adjourn?"

There were no more questions or comments.
Best wishes for an enjoyable few days in Germany, see you soon, and
that was that.

I grabbed a coffee at the machine, chatted
with a couple of staff members while drinking it, and stepped
outside. The rain had stopped and the sun was even shining. I
smoked a cigarette and got into my car. Checked my watch, 11.45. I
decided to take the slow road back to London, relax, see what's
going on in suburbia, and stop for lunch at a decent restaurant I
know on the river. The A4 takes you past the turn-off to Windsor
and its castle, past the M25 ring road and past Heathrow airport.
It takes you through commercial centers, some looking O.K., and
others looking extremely
not
O.K., and it takes you through
different ethnic areas, some with only a few white faces, the world
is global sure enough.

I stopped to tank the car. The petrol pump
didn't work. It's the electricity, I was told, it doesn't work
sometimes. I drove on to the next station. Their pumps worked but
their automatic carwash was defective. Nor did their machine accept
my Maestro card. It's a foreign card, said the cashier and I wasn't
about to tell him that it works throughout Europe and it works
everywhere else in England. It is not a good idea to start up that
kind of conversation in the U.K.

I paid cash and drove off. Immediately after
passing a Hindu temple, I saw a manual carwash operation. I drove
in. There were about eight dark-skinned employees dealing with a
small queue of cars and cleaning them inside and out. The boss man,
who wore a turban, took the customers' money—cash only, but only
£6—and I had the cleanest exterior and interior I've had in a long
time. The interior, you understand, is always a problem for us
smokers.

I turned off after passing Chiswick but
before reaching Hammersmith, found a parking spot in one of the
side roads close to the river, and walked on down to the
restaurant.

I smoked a pre-meal cigarette, went inside,
ordered a chicken salad and a glass of red and looked out at the
river, with the amateur joggers trotting by—the fat and the obese
ones staggering and swaying along in their desperate and doomed
attempts to achieve they know not what, and the real runners
getting in their training time. What a way to earn another €1,200
today—I will just have to add in another few hours 'analytical'
work on the good old time sheets. The time sheets are neither
necessary nor required of course, but good old Peter O'Donoghue
always hands them in together with his invoices—it shows honesty
and transparency to the guys who are forking out the money. And
that analytical work is honest enough in its way, I sometimes
do
do some thinking about the day's issues or finish
creating a couple of statistics. And why should anyone care if I
happen to do it in a pub, so what?

My meal arrived quickly. I got to thinking
that I could be out of here by about 2 o'clock, which meant that I
could drive straight to the M25 and be in Dover at 4 p.m. or near
enough, and therefore home before midnight. Or soon after, you lose
an hour on the time zone difference.

But…why kill myself? Back to my nice hotel,
enjoy the evening, up early tomorrow—but not too early—drive down
to Dover, lunch on the ferry, pretty ghastly food but they do serve
mushy peas, and home at around 8 p.m. And another €1,200, they pay
my travelling time.

Unless…unless I go and take another look at
Jeremy Parker. A waste of time of course. But also interesting. And
fun of course. And then, there is that chance of the €100,000
payment. About the same chance as my lottery ticket back in
Germany, with its odds of 140 million to one for the jackpot, but
I'll be checking up on it nevertheless, oh yes, you never can tell
with the mentally damaged.

Well, I don't know, we'll see. So…tonight is
decided, I am going back to the hotel. And tomorrow it will be
either Jeremy Parker and Germany, or just Germany. Depends how I
feel.

I woke up at 8 o'clock, had my poached eggs,
toast and coffee and decided to take a cab for another chat with
friend Jeremy, see what he had to say for himself this time. Pure
curiosity. Curiosity kills the cat, they say, an aphorism of such
brutal punishment for a totally harmless sentiment that I ignored
it as a child and have continued to do so ever since.