Goin’ To Gilley’s
This is a story about persistence.
Many years ago, I was involved in large-scale information system development — a far cry from today’s world of DevOps, microdeliveries, apps, scrums, and all the rest. In those days, given the state of mainframe technology, application development was a ponderous journey, and system launches were generally extensively planned and either anticipated or dreaded. A launch was considered “smooth” if it generated only a handful of “post-launch corrections,” accompanied by a mere handful of irate customers.
Some launches bombed right out of the gate.
The story I’m about to tell involves a launch supervisor (Irene) and a manager (Bob). I had the pleasure of working for both of these wonderful people. It is through Irene's eyes that I relate these events.
For months, work had been proceeding on a major federated system, due to have its first launch in our Dallas, Texas facility. If successful, it would greatly improve the efficiency of our parts logistics operations in that location. It would be the model for launches in other locations throughout the country.
To prepare for the launch, Irene flew to Houston from our Southeast Michigan office. For several days, she oversaw numerous steps needed to prepare both the people and the environment for the launch. Back in Michigan, programmers were feverishly working on last-minute corrections to go into the launch package.
At last, the package was delivered, and Irene began the launch process.
From the start, there were problems. The mists of time prevent me from accurately describing those problems, but Irene said they were numerous and persistent, and they kept her working day and night on resuscitation.
After days of herculean effort, she called her boss, Bob, and launched into a litany of all the issues. His response: “I’m coming down there.” Irene feared the worst: that Bob would think she’d bungled the launch, and that it was up to him to rescue it.
That evening, Bob showed up for a one-on-one with Irene. As Irene explained actions, counter-actions, potential ways forward, issues, and customer reactions, Bob didn’t say a word. Finally, in the midst of more rapid-fire thoughts from Irene (and you had to know Irene to know just how rapid-fire this could be), Bob held up his hand. He said one thing.
“We’re goin’ to Gilley’s.”
Irene started up again, and Bob held up his hand again.
“We’re goin’ to Gilley’s.”
Puzzled, Irene acquiesced, following Bob out the door and into Bob’s rental car and so over to Gilley’s, at that time a famous bar in Houston.
Once there, over beers he explained to Irene what experience had taught him.
He’d already figured out in the phone conversation that the launch was a lost cause. Nothing Irene had done, or was proposing to do, would fix it. Bob also knew that, given how customers could be (and, truth be told in those days, male customers having “fun” with a young female IT supervisor), he’d need to carry the message to those customers. It wouldn’t be pleasant. But better him than her.
Irene went on to become a respected manager, and I worked with her on enterprise projects, where her forceful wisdom saw them through. Bob’s confidence in her abilities was never shaken. In that Texas heat, Bob understood two crucial things:
You backstop your people when the going gets tough
You have to know when to quit
“We’re goin’ to Gilley’s” is a phrase we should all take to heart. We acknowledge the value of persistence, and we often reward it. After all, as leaders, we’re expected to persist in the face of adversity, that breakthroughs often come through hard, persistent work. Think of Thomas Edison, and his 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration. Would we have the light bulb if he had stopped only a few thousand filament trials in? Perhaps later. Perhaps not by him.
But there’s a downside.
We can be so swept up in what we think must be done, it becomes impossible for us to see what can be done.
We persist, thinking that in persisting we are demonstrating courage. That may be. But sometimes it takes even more courage to step back from the situation, reassess, acknowledge, lick your wounds, and live to fight another day. Sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is go to Gilley’s.
The world is full of stories where persistence paid off. The world is also full of stories where persistence led to unnecessary sacrifice. Think of Passchendaele, the massive World War I battle, where persistence cost countless lives on both sides. Should it have been called off? Some say yes, while others are more reluctant. No choice is easy. And all choices become clearer after the fact.
Strategy is a way forward, a choice among unknowns. It looks backward for perspective and forward for inspiration.
Michael Porter argued that the essence of strategy is knowing what not to do. In his book, Good Strategy, Bad Strategy, Richard Rumelt observed that a great deal of strategy is figuring out what’s going on.
I still remember the first question on my first exam in my MBA program: “What’s going on here?” It pays to ask, and ask again. Just as Bob did, when Irene couldn’t.
Rumelt further observed that you didn’t have a good strategy if your choice of action didn’t hurt. While that may sound pessimistic, what Rumelt was saying is that the best choices are often the hardest ones.
I can remember at Ford, when Alan Mulally chose to do away with the venerated Mercury line. Did that hurt? Sure. How many people had poured sweat and pride into Mercury? How many people were in tears as a result? But Alan and the team could see what others could not — that retaining Mercury, persisting in trying to make it succeed, would hurt far more than it would help.
The team had “gone to Gilley’s.”
I imagine similar thoughts and tears occurred at General Motors, when the decision to do away with Oldsmobile was taken. No leader or leadership team makes these decisions without understanding the impact on affected people, the healing that must be done. How to bring the wounded back into the fold is one of the great duties leaders must perform in these circumstances.
Today, as the automobile and other industries grapple with so many profound changes, “Goin' to Gilley’s” is urgently needed. “Goin' to Gilley’s” means cutting through the noise, understanding the deeper currents, taking stock. What’s really going on here?
Asking that question, and having the courage to answer it truthfully, can help leaders choose wisely among unknowns. It can help leaders make those hard choices that are the foundation of good strategy.
So, c’mon, leaders. Let’s go to Gilley’s.
