Let me tell you about my friend Gary. I met him in the 1980s. I was in school at Oklahoma City University. Gary was a several years older, about 25 at the time. He had a family, a house, and a full time job working in a small print shop. I looked up to him and occasionally I would drop by and visit with him at his shop. This was in the era before Kinko’s, and Gary’s little print shop did a very large volume. He was always busy. Gary’s shop had state of the art duplication equipment including one giant printing machine that flared so brightly that Gary would cry “flame on!” before he pressed the button to make it go. Anyone who happened to be standing nearby would cover his or her eyes. It was great.
One afternoon I dropped by to say hello to Gary. He was busy of course but for once he wasn’t printing anything. He was sweeping the floor. Now there’s sweeping, and there’s sweeping. Gary was sweeping like he cared. He was just an employee but he was sweeping the floor as if he owned the place. Each stroke of the broom was careful. He left no inch of floor untouched. It was mesmerizing. Perfect. Zen-like. In the back of my mind I was thinking, “This is it. This is work ethic like my Dad is always telling (yelling at me) me about.”
This went on for a long time, Gary sweeping, and me watching and talking about something or other. Suddenly it hit me. Something was wrong. The dirt on the floor, and there was only a tiny bit of dirt, contained two or three little white Styrofoam packing peanuts. No matter where Gary went with that broom those peanuts went too.
“Gary!” I said. “You are sweeping the same dirt around and around aren’t you?”
“Sure am.” He replied.
“Isn’t that kind of silly?” I asked.
Gary stopped sweeping. He put his hands on the top of the broom. In a low voice he said, “I don’t have anything to print right now, Mark.”
“So?” I said.
He whispered, “So, the boss is in the back room.”
“Yeah?” I said. “So what?”
Gary gave me a wise, 25-year old smile. “So, you got to look busy at all times.” He resumed his methodical peanut sweeping pattern.
Sometimes I tell this story during MBM seminars. I ask this question at the end. Do you suppose we have people who are “sweeping peanuts” in your operation? Just looking busy? Just working for time? The answer is always yelled back at me. “YES!”
Once I even got a “peanut sweeping” confession during a break. It was from an operator at a facility that shall remain anonymous. He said, “My boss told me that some VIPs were coming in for an all day meeting. The boss said the VIPs would pass by my station several times during the day. He said ‘I know it’s a slow day for you but for heaven’s sake look busy when they come around.’ That’s what I did too. I put a piece of metal on a grinder and you better believe it that every time the VIPs walked by the sparks flew. I looked busy as H----!” The operator laughed and then shook his head.
I tell these stories to make the point that sweeping peanuts or making sparks fly might fool some folks some times but it certainly does not create value. Our customers do not care how hard we work or how busy we look. They care only about the value they receive from the products and services we provide.
Value creation is common sense. All of us must re-evaluate our work, get rid of the peanuts and the sparks, and focus on doing those things that create real value for our customers, our company, and ourselves. We can’t afford to waste a minute “looking busy.”
I heard another one this week! A supervisor told an operator that any time a VIP walked by during a particular visit the supervisor was going to stand in front of the employee, shaking his finger at him and as appearing as if he was giving the employee a first class chewing out!
Posted by: Abby | 28 November 2008 at 09:32 AM