Excerpts

CHAPTER THREE What Everybody Knows Is Frequently Wrong MY FIRST CLASS with Peter Drucker met in the fall of 1975. I didn't know what to expect. Drucker was a world-famous celebrity. I was a young man with limited business experience. Needless to say, I was more than a little intimidated with the thought of dealing with this prominent professor face-to-face. I was actually taking two courses with Peter that first term. The other class had yet to meet. It was to meet Wednesday night in the faculty club, and Peter and the dean, Paul Albrecht, were teamed as instructors. It was open only to the ten students in the new doctoral program for practicing executives. However, this was Monday night, and the class was entitled "Module 300: The Management Process." This particular course, and even the course numbering system then used, no longer exists. Peter taught it by himself. There were no other professors, and no graduate students assisting him. The class was open to both master's students and the ten doctoral students and was taught over a seven-week period. In the Claremont system, there were three semesters a year with two seven-week modules in every semester. This allowed students to take a variety of courses. In later years, Drucker classes met in Albrecht Auditorium, and other ultramodern complexes built long after my own graduation. However, since the larger and more modern facilities didn't exist then, Module 300 met in probably the largest room available on campus in Harper Hall. It held fifty or sixty of the old-style seats for students with a table top that folded over your lap to allow notetaking. I arrived early. About half of the class was already there. I didn't know anyone. We were all working professionals, and there were no orientation programs for new graduate students in those days. However, I discovered that many of these students weren't new to Claremont, and had taken classes with Drucker previously. "What's he like?" I asked. "Oh, Peter's fine, you'll like him" seemed to be the most common reply. I noticed that just about everyone called him "Peter" not "Drucker" or "Professor Drucker." I discovered that this was his preferred form of address. He seemed to dislike any form of honorific or deferential treatment. I don't want to describe him as modest, but rather I would say that he considered himself beyond any special behavior and thought that this sort of thing was a waste of time. This does not mean to imply that he was timid in any way or encouraged disrespect. I never saw anyone ever treat Peter with disrespect, and he absolutely was not bashful about correcting any student. After several minutes Peter strode confidently into the classroom. He was in good humor and engaged several students in conversation who apparently had been his students previously. He was of medium height, wore glasses, and was balding. He was energetic and appeared to be in excellent health. He had a copy of a thick book under one arm. As the time for the class to begin approached, he removed his jacket and held a copy of Management: Tasks, Responsibilities, and Practices aloft with one hand. "This is your textbook," he said with a heavy Viennese accent. "Anyone wanting me to autograph it, please line up over here to the right side of the classroom near the window." There was a scrambling as maybe fifteen or sixteen students formed a line to get the coveted autograph. I did not. I didn't know what to make of this action at the time. Somehow it rubbed me the wrong way. I guess I thought it egotistical. The rest of the students continued their conversations while the autographing took place for another ten minutes or so. Then Peter went to the front of the classroom and began to lecture without reference to notes or his book. The Story of the Two Vice Presidents Peter began with a story about a company he had observed. As the president of the company grew older, he knew that he should begin thinking about succession. Fortunately, he had two vice presidents, both equally outstanding, and of the right age, and each with a record of outstanding prior accomplishments with this firm. He increased the responsibility of both subordinate executives and gave them each the new title of executive vice president. He called them in together and announced that he intended to retire in five years and that one of them would be named to succeed him as president. Both men thanked the president for the opportunity. The president had confidence that he had picked the right candidates. Although both were ambitious, he knew that both would put the company before themselves in whatever they undertook. He knew that either would make an excellent replacement. Over the five years of their apprenticeship a differing pattern began to emerge from each of the prospective presidents-to-be. Although both men did well in every task given them and were equally successful in accomplishing their assignments, the process each followed was quite different. One would be given a task by the president. He would request the information needed and would ask when the job was to be accomplished. He would go off, gather his subordinates together, and would invariably present the president with a completed job well done days, weeks, or months later. Unless he needed some specific information or permission to do something a little out of the usual process, he would do this without ever bothering the old president. The other executive vice president took an entirely different approach. Given a project by the president, he too would organize his subordinates to complete it successfully. However, there was a big difference. The first candidate worked independently and didn't bother the president with the details of what he was doing unless specific help was needed. However, the second candidate met periodically with the president to discuss the project and frequently requested additional meetings, continually seeking the president's advice. "Now," asked Drucker, "When the president retired, which candidate did he pick to succeed him, the executive who was always successful without bothering him or taking his time, or the one who continually seemed to seek his help and approval?" Many hands shot up, including my own. Drucker called on several students. Each stated his opinion that the president picked the executive who was able to succeed on his own without having to report back until the job was done unless there was a specific problem. This was my opinion too. Our thinking was that the new president would need to operate on his own and would not have the old president's counsel to fall back on. Peter asked for a show of hands as to how many agreed that the president selected the executive who demonstrated that he was able to operate independently and without the president's ongoing approval. A large majority agreed with the students Peter had previously called on. Only a few thought that the second executive who constantly bothered the former president had been the one selected. Peter stated the results: "Most of you are wrong. The former president selected the candidate who continually consulted with him." The class was in an uproar. This went against everything we knew about management and leadership. Everyone knew that the candidate who demonstrated that he could make decisions on his own should and would be selected. Drucker's Lesson: Question Your Assumptions "What everybody 'knows' is frequently wrong," Peter responded. "We are dealing with human beings. Most top managers want to feel that their policies and legacies will be continued. The constant contact and interaction with the second manager gave the president that confidence. "Both executives were outstanding, but while the president felt that he knew and understood the executive who maintained contact, he was less certain about the other executive and he was less invested in his success. After picking candidates based on accomplishment, he went with his gut instinct, a perfectly correct way in which to make such an important decision after considering all the facts. Unless the president's preferred style was to let those who reported to him operate independently, the first executive should have tried to adapt his preferred method to what his boss preferred, even though 'everyone knows' that continual consultation with a higher manager is less desirable." Drucker was right, and I should have known better. I was in the process of losing the confidence of my then boss by behaving exactly like the executive who operated independently. That in itself is an important lesson, but the idea that what everyone knows is frequently wrong proved even more important to me, and I think many other of Drucker's students. Over the next few years, I heard Peter say this quite a few times. Maybe through repetition I finally began to think more deeply about what the words really meant. This seemingly simple and self-contradicting statement is amazingly true and immensely valuable, and not only in business. What Drucker wanted to emphasize was that we must always question our assumptions no matter from where they originate. This is especially true regarding anything that a majority of people "know" or assume without questioning. This "knowledge" should always be suspect and needs to be examined much more closely. In a surprisingly high percentage of cases, the information "known to be true" will turn out to be false or inaccurate, if not generally, then in a specific instance. This can lead to extremely poor, even disastrous management decisions. Things Once "Known to Be True" Are Now Known to Be False Of course there are many old "truisms" once thought by everyone to be true which we laugh at today. "The world is flat." "The earth is the center of the universe." The ancient Greeks knew that everything was made up of only four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. Of course, in modern times we learned that they were mistaken. When I took chemistry in high school, I learned that a Periodic Table of Elements had been formulated by a fellow named Mendeleev and that it had been established that there were exactly 93 elements, no more, no less. We got an "A" if we could name them all. Today, there are 102 elements--or so "everybody knows." Excerpted from A Class with Drucker: The Lost Lessons of the World's Greatest Management Teacher by William A. Cohen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. 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