Critical Chain - Eliyahu M. Goldratt [2]
After awhile he echoes their thoughts: "A development time of two years, when we have to launch the fruits of our development every six months, means only one thing. The question is not ‘are we going to miss?' The question is ‘when are we going to miss?' And remember, we cannot afford to miss even once."
They sit silently, digesting what has been said. Finally Levy speaks up. "Your mission is to find a way that will enable us to drastically cut our development time. For years we have been looking everywhere for the answer, and have not found it. You are what we have left. You are the ones who must find the answer."
"But, how?" Mark's face is red.
"That's the whole point, Mark. We don't know how! You'll have to tell us."
"What help can we expect?" he desperately asks.
"You will continue to be in charge of the A226. You will use that project as your test ground. You can choose anyone you like as your backup. Ruth and Fred, you are released now from all your other duties. If you need to visit other places, to attend conferences, or even to register for a formal Executive MBA program, just ask. No budget restrictions."
"To whom do we report?"
"Directly to me, and I do expect periodic progress reports."
"The A226 is scheduled to be ready in sixteen months. I expect it to be completed on or before time. By the way, think tank, if you come up with a good answer, there are a lot of shares waiting for you."
"How many are a lot?" Fred can't hold himself from asking.
"Ten thousand shares each," Levy answers. "Good luck."
After they leave, Mark says, "Good luck is appropriate. I guess we have about as much chance as winning the lottery."
"The reward is like the lottery, too," Ruth comments. "Ten thousand shares is a fortune. We are going to be millionaires."
"Fat chance."
Chapter 2
I pick up the memo and read it again, for the hundredth time.
Dear Rick,
You have been assigned to teach a course in the Executive MBA program.
We need to determine which course it will be.
Does Monday at 2 P.M. suit you?
Jim.
Only three sentences, but the implications . . . The implications...
I teach at a business school. But I am no longer at the bottom of the academic hierarchy. A year ago I was promoted from the doormat level of assistant professor to the semi-respectable position of associate professor. Frankly, it was a miracle, considering the abysmal number of academic papers I have had published. On the other hand, it wasn't, not if one takes into account the name I've built for myself as an exceptional teacher. It's no small effort turning each session into a learning experience, but it pays off; my courses are always the first ones to fill up.
Here, in black and white, is the latest proof. Just three sentences. This time I read the memo aloud.
"You have been assigned to teach a course in the Executive MBA program."
The words sound like a symphony. No wonder. Being assigned to teach in the Executive MBA program is a sure sign that next year I will be recommended for tenure. And tenure is Shangri-La. It's having a permanent position. Whatever you do, or don't do, you can't be gotten rid of. It's being in; it's security.
And security is what I need. And so does my wife. Like everybody else who wants a place in academia I was, listen to this, I was "accepted on probation." I think that only paroled criminals and young professors are formally on "probation." The difference is that professors are on probation for a longer period. Five years to prove myself as a good teacher. Five years to prove myself, to the other faculty members, as a team player.
"Does Monday at 2 P.M. suit you?"
Jim, buddy, it definitely suits me.
Two o'clock seems an eternity away. I decide to take a walk. It's cold outside. There's over a foot of new snow on the ground, but the sky is clear and the sun is high. It's almost one o'clock.
The