A friend chided me the other day about some of my musings about strategy. To paraphrase, “all that strategy stuff is nonsense.” Well, she might not be far off the mark.
Writing about the most overused word in business can be a tricky affair. So instead, let’s talk about the some of the most overused and worst bits of strategic advice out there.
My all-time favorite? FOCUS.
“Focus, focus, focus!” Two oft-repeated syllables that are supposed to cut through the complexity and ambiguity of markets and point directly to a pot of gold. Simple, epiphany inducing clarity. “If we just focus on the widgets, all will be well!”
Well, for one, it’s the wrong word. Focus is about clarity NOT concentration or narrowing of tasks. The opposite of focus is blurry.
While no one wants things to be blurry, blurry is the nature of life and a prevalent feature of our markets, customers and competitors. 20/20 vision is only available for looking backwards. Sadly, there are no corrective lenses that give us this clear a view into tomorrow.
Second, the idea of concentrating and narrowing of tasks can be great for improving an activity, work process or system. Concentration may be essential to bring off a strategy. But as a strategy itself, it is fairly close to useless.
Most of us do not operate in a narrow world or market. And most of our businesses grew and prospered because we broadened, expanded and made our propositions more complex. We made benches. Customers liked them and started to ask for tables. Then they wanted more colors. And so on.
Complexity is, in fact, what makes the whole ball of wax work. Because we humans CAN walk and chew gum at the same time, and because eons ago we learned how to harness the division of labor, we don’t do narrow particularly well. We are wired to multi-task, to expand, to experiment, to broaden, to increase, to decentralize, to dis-aggregate.
So why, in a room of 6 and 7 figure executives, does the word “focus” cause such a flutter? Why is the winning advice always “stop chewing gum, and concentrate on walking”?
Step back and think just how impossible this really is.
In the real world of uncertainty, ambiguity and complexity, to not undertake experimentation, prospecting, or leading an increase in complexity –in a phrase, “risk taking”- is actually to surrender. Who wants to do that?
Further, we build organizations full of talented individuals based on the premise of the division of labor, believing their talent and ambition is a foundation of “capability.” These people don’t want to “focus on the widgets.” They have dreams, abilities and desires to “make a difference.” They want to “find, fix or change” the problem.
The logical requirement of “focus” strategies is “fire everyone” not making the widgets. But typically those executives who jumped on “focus” shrink from this task. What too often follows is a sad, inexorable march through disappointing results and restructurings. Those not making the widgets end up losing their jobs anyway … just in a more painful and exhausting way.
Think about poor Radio Shack. Choice is the often cited “essence of strategy,” and Radio Shack faced a difficult one: liquidate or do something very different. Instead, they chose to focus. Under-performing stores were shuttered. Inventories and product selection were reduced. Technically skilled employees were cut.
But no amount of focus or narrowing could save an idea that’s time had passed us by. The end was delayed, but it has come nevertheless.
You might blame Wall Street for the popularity of “focus” as a strategic answer. After all, the financial markets can be pushy about getting their returns. But I’m not sure that’s quite fair.
Financial discipline can be cruel and motivated by wrong or ill-informed expectations. But the problem is deeper. Rather, it has to do with that opposite element of our nature. Despite our unstoppable urge to do, to expand and to change our world, we seem equally drawn to the idea of permanence.
Permanence, of course, is a chimera. So when someone sells you on the idea that “focus” will preserve and extend your franchise, I suggest you say “no thanks.” Instead, it is time to roll up your sleeves and look for a more exciting, even risky, course of action.