Read the Helen Demarco case . This situation may be new to you, or it may identify an all-too-familiar dilemma that you may have experienced in your personal and/or professional life. Some might a
When Bosses Rush In
Helen Demarco arrived in her office to discover a clipping from the local paper. The headline
read, “Osborne Announces Plan.” Paul Osborne had arrived two months earlier as Amtran’s new
chief executive. His mandate was to “revitalize, cut costs, and improve efficiency.”
After 20 years, Demarco had achieved a senior management position at the agency. She had
little contact with Osborne, but her boss reported to him. Demarco and her colleagues had been
waiting to learn what the new chief had in mind. She was startled as she read the newspaper
account. Osborne’s plan made technical assumptions directly related to her area of expertise. “He
might be a change agent,” she thought, “but he doesn’t know much about our technology.”
She immediately saw the new plan’s fatal flaws. “If he tries to implement this, it’ll be the worst
management mistake since the Edsel.”
Two days later, Demarco and her colleagues received a memo instructing them to form a
committee to work on the revitalization plan. When the group convened, everyone agreed it was
crazy.
“What do we do?” someone asked.
“Why don’t we just tell him it won’t work?” said one hopeful soul.
“He’s already gone public! You want to tell him his baby is ugly?”
“Not me. Besides, he already thinks a lot of us are deadwood. If we tell him it’s no good,
he’ll just think we’re defensive.”
“Well, we can’t go ahead with it. It’ll never work and we’d be throwing away money.”
“That’s true,” said Demarco thoughtfully. “But what if we tell him we’re conducting a study
of how to implement the plan?”
Her suggestion was approved overwhelmingly. The group informed Osborne that they were
moving ahead on the “implementation study” and expected excellent results. They got a
substantial budget to support their “research.” They did not say that the real purpose was to buy
time and find a way to minimize the damage without alienating the boss.
Over time, the group assembled a lengthy technical report, filled with graphs, tables, and
impenetrable jargon. The report offered two options. Option A, Osborne’s original plan, was
presented as technically feasible but well beyond anything Amtran could afford. Option B billed
as a “modest downscaling” of the original plan, was projected as a more cost-effective
alternative.
When Osborne pressed the group on the huge cost disparity between the two proposals, he
received a barrage of complicated cost-benefit projections and inscrutable technical terms.
Hidden in a fog was the reality that even Option B offered few benefits at a very high cost.
Osborne argued and pressed for more information. But given the apparent facts, he agreed to
proceed with Option B. The “Osborne plan” was announced with fanfare and widely heralded as
another instance of Paul Osborne’s talent for revitalizing ailing organizations. Osborne had moved
on to work his management magic on another organization by the time the plan came online,
and his successor had to defend the underwhelming results.
Helen Demarco came away with deep feelings of frustration and failure. The Osborne plan,
in her view, was a wasteful mistake, and she had knowingly participated in a charade. But, she
rationalized to herself, she had no other choice. Osborne was adamant. It would have been
career suicide to try to stop him.
