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May 8, 2001

letter image Secret CIO image Your letters to my print column and this E-mail forum raise some serious issues about managing information technology in today's world. Since today's world is essentially absurd, my serious responses may sometimes sound a little whimsical, and my occasional whimsical ones, serious. In any case, if you want to participate, or comment, write to me at lovelace@home.com. I reserve the right to edit for size and content. Just sign your E-mail the way you want it to appear online.

Pet Peeves Shed
Question

Dear Herb,

I loved your article, "Maintain Your Enthusiasm," especially the part about the notes you'll never look at again and Joe who doesn't remember what he said, but you quoting him. The whole thing was funny, but true.

My own pet peeve is the guy who gives me a binder full of material that goes in the trashcan as soon as I get back to my office. Do they really think anyone has time to read this stuff?

I am relieved to know that even the secret CIO is bored with these insipid meetings.

Regards, Rod

Dear Rod:

Since we spend so much of our lives attending these meetings, in the interest of personal sanity, it's important to look at their value to each of us. For me, they've been useful for column ideas. A friend of mine designed his entire home-theater system during a series of budget meetings.

The point about the handouts is very true. It's fascinating how many trees we're willing to kill, just to burden our audiences with the printed version PowerPoint presentations. Think about the havoc that can descend on an organization.

You and I throw away the paper, but what about the people who actually pass them along to their subordinates? Ron Stagweg, whom you've read about in the column, is a practitioner of this little stunt. Perhaps it's because he's unsure of what's actually valuable, or maybe he wants his troops to know what's going on in the company. The result, though, is that some members of his staff actually feel compelled to read the droppings from the meeting. Then, they pass the stuff along to their own subordinates. A few of them are such packrats that they have copies made so that, just in case Ron asks them a question, they can refer to it quickly. Of course he never does, so then they have their secretaries go through the additional waste of storing the nonsense for future reference, which never happens.

I frequently wonder what the mathematical formula might be to figure out how many duplicates are made and the total amount of time squandered because some dolt in the board room decided to give us our own copies of his or her words (which were stupefying to hear in the first case). I have a vision of the corporate headquarters building tilting like the leaning tower of Pisa if all these pages were filed simultaneously on the same side of the structure.

What's After Project Management?
Question

Dear Herbert:

I read your column, "The Joys Of Project Management," and I have no doubt that it describes the typical project. But one thought that occurred to me is: If project manager is the worst job in the entire company, then if one botches it and has to be given another job, wouldn't that ensure that it had to be a better job?

I mean, sure, there's a cost to failure, but the upside is the likelihood that at least it won't be a project-manager job again, right?

Jim Mork

Dear Jim:

You've reached a brilliant conclusion and have shown a keenness of mind indicative that you can handle something bigger than project management, say, corporate strategic planning.

It's an interesting premise. If you mess up as a project manager and don't get fired, then what? Your next assignment has to be better, right?

Unfortunately, I don't think that's the scenario. Here's what really happens. The powers-that-be look at what you've fouled up and figure it must have been incredibly hard. If it were easy, then your failure is a reflection on them, and executives don't like that idea one bit. They already know you've alienated everyone with whom you work and just wish you could fade away into the dusk.

So are you allowed to go gently into that good night? No way. Instead, the bosses figure you must have learned something out of all that travail, so you are given a new assignment that's equally arduous and risky (maybe even more so than the last one, since you are cannon fodder waiting to be fired).

You, of course, work like mad to make the new job a success. If you don't succeed, the leaders righteously trash you, explaining that they gave you every chance in the world, and bring in a new recruit. If you succeed, they take the credit for "turning you around."

And what's your reward for working even longer hours and getting this new impossible job accomplished? You guessed it. You get to manage another project.

Sustained Abuse
Question

Dear Secret CIO:

Once again, your column hit the nail squarely on the head. I can think of no other job in IT (or within a company generally) that comes in for more sustained abuse than that of project manager. On the other hand, I get paid to lead a team of fine people who do the actual work while I run around placating upper management, customers, other departments, etc. This is like getting money for old rope!

One thing I avoid is the "high profile" project that will turn one into a "golden boy (or girl)." In other words, be one day late and your reputation/career at that company is ruined for life.

Always a pleasure reading your column in InformationWeek! Keep up the good work.

Hazel

Dear Hazel:

We have to remember that as much as we may hate the stress of being a project manager, the real kudos go to the people who actually get the day-to-day work done. Our jobs are to clear out the obstacles and, as much as possible, provide the guidance that will let the entire team navigate the shoals without too much trauma.

I am somewhat curious, though, how you have learned to avoid the high-profile project. If you can patent the method, you may never again have to work.

It's always seemed that the better the job you do with a project, the higher the bar is for the next one. The only way I could ever handle the problem of increased expectations was to try to calm people down before the actual work started. I have to say, though, that I was remarkably unsuccessful in pulling off that little trick the vast majority of the time. Regardless of what I said or did, the management would blithely assign its own target dates and cost projections. More often than not, however, because of the extra hard work of the team of dedicated people with whom I worked, we were able to muddle through and get the job done.

Sand Boxing
Question

Dear Herb:

Bravo! Thanks for the great article on project management. I became a project manager as punishment for doing such a great job with system analysis and demonstrating a natural ability to play nice in the sand box. I now struggle with reality on a daily basis and have forgotten the names of my family and friends.

Making money, chasing scope changes, and scurrying for executive decisions and signatures has made me an "interesting" person. Reading your weekly articles keeps me laughing, though.

Thanks! Kathleen

Dear Kathleen:

Playing nice in the sandbox is an admirable trait. Most project managers get the urge, at least sometimes, to toss that sand in the face of the user who insists on just one more change.

It is, however, perfectly normal for you to have forgotten the names of your family and friends. Unless you enter them into your project plans they really have no reasonable expectation that you will pay any attention to them until implementation is complete.

Dear Herb:

This is probably the 26,405th comment you've received on your "The Joys Of Project Management" column and it says exactly what the other ones do--Yes! That's it exactly!

John Boddie

Dear John:

Thanks for the note. Actually, I got a very large number of letters about this particular column. I suspect it struck a chord of familiarity with a lot of people. Certainly, I remember with no small knot in my stomach my own days of running large projects. I frequently felt like I was walking along the edge of a cliff and couldn't see whether my next step would take me over the brink.

I'll never forget one instance in particular. I had the responsibility to install a new system, which required untested hardware as well as unfamiliar and untested software. The head honcho, having just promised the executive committee that all would go well, called me into his office and explained the new accelerated unmovable deadline he had just committed to without consulting me.

Seeing the look of dismay on my face, he got up from his desk, walked over, put his hand on my shoulder, and said in his booming executive voice, "I have every confidence that you can pull it off!"

I looked at him and responded cheerfully in an equally loud voice, "Well, that makes one of us!"

The project was a success, but I have no idea how we got everything done on time. I do remember the night before we switched over to the new system, just sitting in my office and realizing that although all of the unit tests and integration tests had worked, there was no guarantee that the cutover wouldn't fail. It was a strange feeling to know that I, and the many people working with me, had done everything we could think of and it was either going to work or not. There simply wasn't anything left to check over or retest. I was so drained that when the production cutover went as planned, there wasn't even a feeling of elation, just a vague curiosity as to what modifications we would be asked to do on another ridiculous schedule.

Herbert W. Lovelace shares his experiences (changing most names, including his own, to protect the guilty) as CIO of a multibillion-dollar international company. Send him E-mail at lovelace@home.com.

NOTE TO READERS: As I've mentioned, I am planning to put my InformationWeek columns together into a book with a little bit of additional commentary around the events and people about whom I write. If any reader would like to be notified of such an event, please drop me an E-mail. Just use the word BOOK as the subject line.