chapter 1
real conversations

Tuesday, 8.58 am. The Executive Team of O’Donnell's Jelly Bean Company assembled for what promised to be anything but the usual 9 am executive meeting.

Walking to the boardroom from their plush offices, the team members crossed a foyer dominated (tastefully) by two identical displays of three two‐metre‐tall crystal cylinders on either side of the automatic glass entry doors. Each cylinder was full to the brim with those monster O’Donnell's jelly beans — red closest to the street, then black, then blue.

As you enter the O’Donnell's building, those jelly‐bean cylinders escort you like a guard of honour towards Susan, the ever‐smiling receptionist. An inconspicuous glass lid sits firmly atop each cylinder to ensure that no‐one samples from the display. Floor lights project upwards to complete the striking effect.

By 9 am everyone was seated and attending to final emails on their phones and laptops. Cups of coffee and bottles of water sat on coasters to protect the lush, wood‐grained table, the compulsory three dishes of jelly beans in the middle of the expansive table and papers at the ready.

Like most businesses, the O’Donnell's Executive Team was made up of the heads of each of the six key divisions:

• Operations (manufacturing and logistics)
• Sales and Marketing
• Research and Development
• Human Resources
• Corporate Services (finance, information systems and administration)
• Customer Services (currently without a division head).

The other member of the team, Charles Enright, was appointed Chief Executive fewer than three years ago after two decades with one of the world's leading strategy consulting firms. The position had become available due to the sudden death of the previous CEO, and Charles had convinced a former colleague turned headhunter to recommend him to the board, who were impressed by his CV, but — in hindsight — missed his glaring lack of people leadership skills.

A highly experienced consultant — who for some reason had cultivated an English accent without ever having lived in the country — Charles had a reputation for providing brutal feedback to company boards on the quality of their business strategies and leadership. He was rumoured to have confirmed more than once to his Saturday golf colleagues that ‘O’Donnell's is extremely fortunate to have me’. No‐one needed a rumour to confirm Charles's arrogance.

Since Charles had arrived, O’Donnell's executive meetings had been unpleasant and unproductive, with each leader giving an update on performance in their division followed almost automatically by a flurry of sharp, critical questions from the CEO.

‘No excuses, no surprises, just results’, was Charles's mantra, and it effectively smothered any strategic conversation and caused everyone to fall into line like compliant children.

Despite the CEO's uncompromising need for control, things started to unravel last year when the multinational Jellicoe Candy Corp parachuted into O’Donnell's most important markets, dropping O’Donnell's sales by more than 25 per cent in just six months. Now, twelve months later, the sales graphs were still heading south and only the cost savings from the first round of bitter redundancies temporarily halted the slide in profitability.

Everyone sat impassively as Charles opened the meeting in his typical threatening tone, with eyes fixed on the wall ahead of him, addressing the air in the room rather than his team members in person.

‘Yesterday's board meeting was the most difficult in all of my time at O’Donnell's. The board is clearly of the view that the attempts to resolve the downslide of the past year have not been successful and unless this quarter's budget is achieved we will be compelled to cut 20 per cent of costs right across the company. I’m deeply insulted by the situation and have never in all my years in business seen a team that's worse at executing the business strategy.’

He paused to glare at the executives, one at a time.

‘Find answers or heads will roll’, he ordered while thumping the table for effect.

No‐one spoke. For Steve Edwards, head of Operations and the newest (and most articulate) member of the team, it wasn’t what he had expected on joining O’Donnell's six months ago, but the business challenge didn’t particularly faze him. This was a good company — with good people and good products — that was ripe for growth.

What concerned him much more than the numbers was Charles's leadership style and its impact right through the business. Steve had seen executives ‘burn the furniture’ to make the figures look good. Invariably they killed the culture and the company in the process. Charles was a furniture burner if ever he’d seen one.

Steve would bide his time. There were things that could be done, and after three years in a bigger and more complex job in London he, more than anyone else in the room, saw huge opportunities in the challenges confronting O’Donnell's.

Never one to miss a chance to push his agenda, Ron Grisham, head of Corporate Services and self‐appointed ‘finance guru’, took the opportunity while others were deep in thought to run through the numbers to support Charles, who he knew loved financial models.

‘Our sales are down by more than 30 per cent quarter on quarter’, he said, waving a complex‐looking spreadsheet, ‘and despite some minor productivity improvements in Operations I can’t see an upside. My recommendation is that we make cuts now in Sales and Operations and don’t wait until the April board meeting’.

Ron was pleased with how authoritative he sounded and looked to Charles for a nod of approval. It wasn’t there.

Jimmy Goh, the dynamic head of Sales and Marketing, peered at Ron with a mixture of contempt and anger. This would be a poor choice of timing to tackle Ron's relentless pessimism, but Jimmy was almost angry enough to take him on anyway. Charles's clipped manner broke his thoughts.

‘What's the real outlook on sales?’ he asked, not even referring to Jimmy by name.

A Singaporean national with a Harvard MBA, Jimmy's energy and track record of success with confectionery companies in the United States and Asia earned him respect from all but Ron. As he replied to Charles's question, more than one member of the team was pondering why someone with Jimmy's CV would put up with this.

‘The social media campaign has been revamped and is ready for launch early next month, and our multichannel partnering strategy is a potential game changer, so I anticipate a more than 20 per cent lift in revenue on the back of that in the US, Australia and Asia.’

He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.

‘The sales teams are up to the challenge, and if IT and Marketing get together and deliver on the channel partners’ platform, I’m confident that we’ll claw back what we’ve lost in market share and be ahead again within twelve months. It would be a mistake to overreact, particularly as the financial data we’re getting is way out of date and our in‐store and online customer numbers are already trending upwards.’

‘With the greatest of respect’, began Ron, running his hands through his thinning grey hair and bristling at the implication that his financial information was out of date, ‘you haven’t got within a mile of any of your sales forecasts for over a year, so why should we believe this one?’

Jimmy leaned forward and looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘If you had any feel for the market instead of gazing out the back window and telling us where we’ve already been, you’d know that forecasting over the past twelve months has been impossible because the whole industry is being upended by cost pressures and new technology. The real numbers tell us that we’re on the cusp of a breakthrough so only a fool would lose their nerve now.’

Ron was no match intellectually for Jimmy and certainly not in a verbal sparring match. He was fuming but knew enough not to take on Jimmy in this situation. He’d deal one‐on‐one with Charles and get those cuts in the Sales and Marketing budget that were long overdue.

Watching all of this unfold was Emma Tomkins, head of Research and Development, and the quietest member of the Executive Team. She joined O’Donnell's as a food technologist fresh from university and was appointed to her current role two years ago. Emma had been a superb number two in Research and Development, and very strong in project management and scientific rigour. A clever and insightful scientist, no‐one but Emma was surprised when, at the age of thirty‐two, she was appointed to an executive position, although to this day she preferred delving into an experiment to the cut and thrust of senior leadership conversations. Emma flicked documents across the screen on her laptop, hoping that someone else would break the silence.

‘Charles, are you saying that the board has given us a quarter to turn this around?’ enquired Judith Corrigan, Human Resources...