The Three Best Answers, Ever

These days everybody's looking for answers.

What's the right way to . . .?

How can I . . .?

What do I need to do to . . .?

When you get asked questions all the time (or even some of the time) it's awfully tempting to think you're supposed to know the answers! After all, people wouldn't be asking you these questions if they didn't think you knew the answers. And if you stop giving the answers, then they'll stop asking the questions, and then you no longer qualify as a full-fledged guru.

Lately I've found three answers that make the most sense to me. I try to remember to use them as often as I can, when I'm out giving a talk or just chatting with friends over dinner.

When the question comes your way ("What do you think we should do about . . .?" "Do you have a solution for . . .?), here are the three best answers, ever:

1. I don't really know.

2. What do you think?

3. I'm still thinking about that--I'll get back to you once I've done some more work on it.

Why are they the three best answers, ever? Because they're honest, humble, and hospitable. They invite discussion, they create dialog, and they open up discussion.

Try it next time: I don't really know; what do you think?; I'll get back to you on that.

What Does It Mean to "Win"?

I was sitting at WeMedia in Miami last week, listening to an eloquent presentation by TCK TCK TCK.

TCK TCK TCK had just won a Game Changer award and its representative was explaining what the organization had done. Set up in advance of the Global Climate Change summit in Copenhagen, TCK TCK TCK created a giant tent under which all of the organizations in favor of a "fair, ambitious, and binding" agreement could gather.

TCK TCK TCK got more than 16 million people to put their names on a petition calling for a "fair, ambitious, and binding" agreement.

It got hundreds of thousands of people out in the streets to demonstrate. It did important work to change the conversation about climate change.

And in the end, it failed. There was no agreement worth talking about, much less one that was "fair, ambitious, and binding."

But did it fail? Or did it win--without winning everything.

We're living in times where political issues are rarely over, even when it looks like something's been decided.

Every issue, every problem, every cutting edge concern is in play, all the time. Yogi Berra had it wrong; it's never over, not even when you think it's over.

So I'd say TCK TCK TCK has a lot to teach us about getting into the game, about organizing and articulating for our causes, about building coalitions that cross conventional boundaries, about establishing goals, about measuring impact--and about keeping after it. They didn't fail. They're still out there arguing their case for what they believe in.

We need to think differently about winning--it's the only way we'll stick with the causes we believe in, and recognize that it's not even about winning. It's about caring enough to get into the game--and then staying in the game all the way.

How Many Times?

I'm starting a new blog category: The How Many Times? category of catastrophe.
As in the old Bob Dylan lyric, "How many times can a man turn his head, and pretend that he just doesn't see?"

Apparently the answer is: All the time.

Take today's NYT story on the decision by the Kansas City, Missouri school board to close 28 of its 61 schools, all at the same time.

According to the reporter, Susan Saulny, ". . . a closer look at the school board's history reveals a chaotic, almost nonfunctioning body that put off making tough choices and even routine improvements for generations. (my italics added) Experts said that in the board's years of inaction is a cautionary tale for school districts everywhere."

School districts? A cautionary tale for school districts!

How about for companies and countries?

How about the cautionary tale of GM that put off making necessary decisions for decades, until the nation's largest manufacturing giant woke up one day and found itself in Chapter 11?

How about the cautionary tale of Wall Street firms that put off making necessary decisions about the fundamental un-sustainability of their over-leveraged financial operations, until one day they woke up, well, dead.

How about the cautionary tale of the United States of America that continues to put off making necessary decisions about energy policy, our addiction to foreign oil, our un-sustainable transportation policies, our subsidies to the highway lobby--almost a guarantee that we'll wake up one morning wishing we'd had leaders with more courage and wisdom, who were willing to price oil at its actual replacement price (or closer to it) and invest ahead of time in mass transit and other alternative energy sources.

Choose the issue that keeps you up at night. Education reform and the sorry state of public schools in the US? The high school drop out rate? Obesity? Decaying infrastructure? A lack of jobs for kids coming out of colleges and universities?

There is much that needs doing today.

And in almost every case, the single greatest obstacle to getting after the work that needs doing is an institutional, systemic unwillingness to deal with the hard facts of life and make tough decisions that need to be made. The longer the situation festers, the worse it gets. Just ask the students and parents who depend on the Kansas City public schools.

How many times can a man turn his head and pretend that he just doesn't see?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind--and not just in Kansas City, Missouri.

Go Tom Go!

There is only one Tom Peters!
Actually, one is enough! As long as it is the original Tom! Accept no substitutes!
(Why all the exclamation points? Because that's how Tom talks! It's how he writes! It's how he lives! Show up full of energy! Give it your all! All the time!)
Just got my hands on Tom's new book: The Little Big Things: 163 Ways to Pursue Excellence.
I can't wait to dig in, to savor all that Tom Peters raw unadulterated smart-as-a-whip, I-wish-I'd-thought-of-that energy and insight.
For as long as I've known Tom (full disclosure: Tom was one of the first-round investors in Fast Company; in fact, it was his phone call to me, out of the blue, one Friday evening after a dis-spirited week of trying to get the magazine going, that lifted my weary spirit. The call went something like this: "Webber! It's Tom Peters! I've just read your business plan for Fast Company! We've got to do this! We absolutely have got to do this! The world needs this! I'm in!" Talk about getting a lift.) he has combined an insatiable appetite for information, insight, and innovation with a willingness to talk with everybody and anybody who's doing anything cool.
And then think about it with that amazing brain of his, and re-frame it in a way that brings it smack dab down to earth in a way that's useful and fundamentally human.
There is only one Tom Peters!
Here's to the one and only!
Keep on truckin' Tom!
We need you!

Oh, Canada!

I was lucky enough to sit at dinner tonight with a group of Canadians, including a very talented woman who works in the Canadian health care system.
A few interesting questions and comments:
"Why do Americans think we don't have MRIs in Canada? We've got all the technology you have!"
"Why do Americans think we don't get to choose our own doctors in Canada? Who tells you this stuff?"
"Why do Americans think it's ok to be the richest country in the world and leave 30 or 40 million of your own people without health care or health insurance?"
The questions weren't antagonistic. Or hostile.
They were asked in the spirit of genuine concern. Concern for the mis-perceptions that continue to cloud the US understanding of how health care actually works in Canada, and concern for a system in the US that the Canadians genuinely think is, well, unthinkable.
Here's what we came to agree on.
Canada's system treats everyone equally. Rich and poor alike. This is, perhaps, fair, but only guarantees that wealthy Canadians game the system.
America's system has incredible highs--if you're wealthy--and incredible lows--if you're poor.
Both systems would benefit from meeting somewhere in the middle: letting wealthy people pay more for faster access to health care, or better quality health care, if they want it, while guaranteeing at least a standard of health care for all, even the poorest citizens.
Kind of like Germany, it turns out, where, once you reach a certain level of wealth, you have to move into a private system, and your higher costs go to subsidize the care of the poorest citizens. The wealthy get what they want, and they have to pay for it. The poor get what they need, and while it isn't as good or fast or accessible as what they wealthy get, it is provided to them as a public good.
Oh, Canada!
There's a lot to be learned on both sides when we sit down to talk as friends!

Aetna Welcomes You To The Grand Canyon!

Last summer as my wife and I hiked from rim to rim in the Grand Canyon, I found myself thinking about the powerful experience of walking through mile after mile of natural history. It turns out, I should have been thinking about health insurance. Here's why.
In the early days the Grand Canyon was pretty much private property. If you wanted to go down into it you had to buy a ticket from a tour operator who controlled access to it. If you couldn't afford a ticket you couldn't go down. Kind of like a toll bridge. Or, come to think of it, health insurance.
Then along came Teddy Roosevelt and the whole notion of national parks and the rest, as they say, is history.
Today if you want to see the Grand Canyon you can even stay in an incredible structure on the north rim that was originally built as part of Franklin Roosevelt's program to put people back to work at the time of the Great Depression. The CCC, the WPA, and other projects created by FDR resulted in work for the unemployed--and also the creation of some spectacular structures and works of art.
I thought about that legacy as I drove home from the Grand Canyon--on a freeway that was built as part of the National Defense Highway Act, a measure created under President Eisenhower.
What if, instead of having a federal highway administration, we'd just let private companies build the roads? They could lay them out as they wanted, and then we'd pay for the privilege of driving on them? Of course, they might not all match up. And some might be more expensive than others. But, hey, that's capitalism!
There'd been a bunch of tourists from Germany, France, Japan, even the Middle East at the Grand Canyon. I was betting they'd flown there.
What if we had competing private sector airports, each with its own privately held control towers? I wonder how safe that would be? At least it would open things up to competition! And if there were accidents, well, isn't that how the free market works?
Apparently we want national parks, and we want one highway system that is uniform, and we'd just as soon have a coordinated system for air safety.
But not for health. Or health care.
That's why we've got large insurance companies, like, say, Aetna, whose CEO, Ronald A. Williams, made $24.3 million in compensation last year. And $23 million the year before. For selling insurance.
Or Cigna's H. Edward Hanway, who made $12.2 million last year, and $25.8 million the year before that. For selling insurance.
Can you imagine what Mr. Williams could have made if, say, he ran the Grand Canyon? Or administered the free market in freeways?
He could have pulled down some really big bucks!
So remind me again: Why is there no public option for health insurance? And why is this industry, which is so fundamental to each American's health and well-being, allowed to operate with this kind of impunity?
I guess it's time for another hike in the Grand Canyon, and a chance to think some of these things over.

What If The Pilgrims Had Landed in California?

I know. It sounds like a frivolous question. Like trying to imagine the Salem Witch Trials as a giant LA surfing party. Or the first Thanksgiving as a celebration at the Ferry Building one Saturday morning in San Francisco, with 20 varieties of lettuces and artisanal cheeses.
But there's a serious side to my question. Because I have the deep and disturbing feeling that many of the attitudes one group of Americans have toward their fellow Americans is some kind of a nasty carry over of those dark, cold, depressing New England winters, a cultural vestigial remain of a period of hard scrabble times and close brushes with societal extinction.
How else to explain the data on American attitudes on poverty and the poor as reported by William Julius Williams in "More Than Just Race"?
What Wilson says is deeply disturbing; it's fundamentally a "blame the victim" national mindset: ". . . the popular view is that people are poor or on welfare because of their own personal shortcomings."
Wilson cites three different surveys conducted in 1969, 1980, and 1990. Analysts looking at the first two surveys found that most Americans believe that ". . . in general economic inequality is fair." That's right. Economic inequality is fair.
In all three surveys, Wilson reports, ". . . more than nine out of ten American adults felt that lack of effort was either very or somewhat important in terms of causing poverty."
In 2007 the Pew Research Center did another survey. That one revealed that "fully two-thirds of all Americans believe that personal factors, rather than racial discrimination, explain sy many African Americans have difficulty getting ahead in life. . ."
The kicker comes when Wilson compares these results to a 2007 survey of the EU. Only 20% of EU respondents agreed that poverty is a result of "laziness and lack of will power." 37% attributed poverty to "injustice in society."
No wonder Kentucky Senator Jim Bunning said, "Tough shit" when confronted with the impact his filibuster had on poor people. After all, it's their own fault!
No wonder there's even a debate about whether it's alright for America to be a nation where 40 million people don't have health insurance. If they'd go out and work their way out of poverty, they'd have the same lousy health insurance the rest of us have! It's their own fault!
Of course, if there were a terrible earthquake, or a natural disaster--something outside the control of each of us as individuals--and 40 million of our fellow citizens were suddenly homeless, needing medical attention, shelter, food, clothes, and a fair shot at a job, I'd like to think Americans would grab their cell phones and text millions of dollars of emergency aid to those in need. I'd like to think we wouldn't shrug and say, "Tough shit." Or blame those who got hit worst for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or deserving it.
At times like that, I like to think that if the Pilgrims had only landed in California, we might all be a little more generous of spirit, a little less morally judgmental, a little less likely to blame the victim, a little more likely to see that we're all in this together.