An article in the Harvard Business Review (“The Ambidextrous CEO,” June 2011) highlights some of the challenges contemporary chief executive officers face. As successful organizations grow and age, the authors say, they develop systems and structures that sometimes make it difficult to adapt to change. Paradoxically, the more successful and stable the organization is, the greater the tendency to hold on to practices that have proven successful.
That makes perfect sense. The risk, of course, is that by focusing only on the present, there can be a tendency to ignore trends and underestimate the scale of change needed to be equally successful in the future. The solution: an ambidextrous CEO to drive organizational transformation that allows for both “exploitation” of the current business and “exploration” of new business. You can read the full article here (registration or subscription required).
It is something I think about a lot, especially as we begin our strategic planning process. I know change is hard, and was reminded of just how much so a couple of weeks ago when the extended family headed to the local farm to select this year’s Christmas tree. It would be difficult for the casual observer to distinguish my selections from year to year, but for me each tree has had unique character: spindly and sparse, often tall but sometimes not, sometimes fat and sometimes thin, usually fragrant, and always, always a balsam fir.
Even though my Jones family roots are in Maine, I spent most of my school years in Pittsburgh where Scotch pine Christmas trees were abundant and the norm. Finding a balsam fir meant going to the local nursery and paying twice the normal price.
So when I saw the elegant, fluffy Christmas tree on the lot this year, I knew it was time to break with a 64-year-old tradition and get back to my Pittsburgh roots. I think the Scotch pine tree looks pretty cool in our living room, but I will likely never hear the end of it.
Among the complaints from the chief decorator-in-charge (my Maine-native husband): the branches are too wimpy to hold ornaments; the pitch is seeping onto the rug; the needles are yellow; the lights are practically invisible; it’s too thick to put ornaments on it; and -- the ultimate insult -- it’s not fragrant.
When the tree started to tilt and to look a little limp last week, I accused him of accelerating its demise by withholding nourishment. I haven’t heard any complaints in the last few days, so just maybe he’s warming up to the change.
Next year this aspiring ambidextrous CEO might return to tradition if only to keep harmony in the family. But here’s the lesson: if changing a Christmas tree was this painful, just imagine what it’s like to change something really big and important.
May you find peace and joy this holiday season, and may we all look forward to a stable and rewarding new year -- pines, firs, and all.