by Guest Blogger Charles Ziegler

I was a young Army Officer in Korea in 1981. We had marched most of a cold March night to meet some covered trucks for a ride back to camp. At dawn a raw, wind-driven rain greeted us at the pick-up point, and as the light came up it became apparent that our ride was late. Our leaders were huddled up away from the main body of soldiers, and in radio communication with the trucks. Not a word was passed from the leaders to the soldiers as an hour, then two passed, with the GI’s standing in the rain becoming slowly and completely miserable. Soon a murmur went up from within the mass of tired, wet and hungry GI’s. Someone said we weren’t going to be picked up. That a helicopter was coming for the more senior leaders, and that everyone else would be marching, actually back-tracking our previous night’s route, plus extra miles to boot. Word of these stories reached those in charge, who chuckled and wrote off the rumor-mongering to tired, wet GI’s. With no real information forthcoming, the grumbling in the ranks worsened and morale, already low, sank further. Soldiers swore about the situation, then about specific, individual leaders. The rumors grew more unreasonable, and yet still no word came from our leaders, who were in contact with the outside world and had information that might have squelched the complaining. Finally, around 11AM, the convoy showed up. Soldiers piled in, disgruntled and miserable, morale completely shot for the day. We spent a couple of cold hours, soaked and crammed into the cargo beds as we made our way to warm showers and hot chow. Continue reading…

The Ultimate Question: Driving Good Profits and True Growth

by Fred Reichheld (Book and CD)

A Book Review by Ed Ruggero

A storm knocked down the line providing phone, cable and internet service to my home. Although there was no interruption in service, the line itself lay across the yard and was a hazard. I spent a half hour trying to report the problem by phone, but the voice prompts kept taking me to dead ends. I went to the company’s website, described my problem in a comments box, and sat back to wait for the repair crew. Hours later I received an email telling me that an automated line-test—probably generated by my logging on—had determined that my service was working fine (which I knew) and that the company valued my business.

Forty-eight hours after the line went down, I finally got a human on the phone, and a repairman arrived a few hours later. He was a cheerful fellow, and in the spirit of being a good employee, asked me how I enjoyed his company’s highly touted fiber-optic service. I told him that if I had a viable option, I’d drop them in a minute. I’ve told this story several times to neighbors and will probably keep on telling it, not because I’m a curmudgeon, but because I feel that the cable company deliberately provides poor service (saving money on real customer service operators, for instance), overcharges me, and isn’t the least bit concerned about me as a customer.

This is the kind of dysfunctional customer relationship Fred Reichheld writes about in his book The Ultimate Question. Customers like me, who never fail to disparage this company, show up in the right place on a balance sheet but do not contribute to growth. In fact, a company with enough detractors inhibits its own growth. Continue reading…

by Ed Ruggero

An energetic new team leader proposes changes that will streamline a troublesome reporting chain. He subjects the decision-makers to scores of bullet-pointed facts, to slides laden with the latest numbers and colored bar graphs. But for all his efforts, he can feel the audience’s attention slipping away. They shuffle their feet and finger those ubiquitous blackberries. Afraid of squandering the opportunity, the new leader becomes distracted and nervous, which only makes things worse. He flips through his notes, looking for that bit of data he considers the clincher, the one fact that, he is certain, really does speak for itself.

Later, several people tell him, “You did a good job,” but he thinks they’re just being nice. He becomes sure of it the next day when no one remembers his key points, and no one has moved an inch closer to sharing his conclusion. Continue reading…

By Guest Blogger Mike Figliuolo

For many of us, screwing up is in our DNA. It happens. Call it Murphy if you like, but it happens. When this happens to someone on your team and you’re in a leadership role, however, the implications of a mistake can be far reaching. The most important aspect of these kinds of events, however, isn’t the incident itself. As a leader, the most important part is your reaction to these events. Those reactions are what end up defining you in the eyes of your team. Allow me to illustrate. Continue reading…