Switch - Chip Heath [40]
They were right. Epogen became Amgen’s first blockbuster drug and, at that time, was the most successful drug of the whole biotech industry. In 1990, Shearson was ranked at the top of the Institutional Investor All-America Research Team. In just three years, Shearson had leapfrogged from fifteenth to first.
The call on Amgen was something that Rivkin never could have anticipated, and it would have been pointless to try. He focused on what he could control: He provided a destination postcard (“I.I. or Die”), and he scripted some moves that would give his people a head start. He had the beginning right and the ending right, and when the Amgen situation popped up in the middle, the team was ready.
8.
So far we’ve learned a great deal about the Rider and his many strengths and weaknesses. On the plus side of the ledger, the Rider is a visionary. He’s willing to make short-term sacrifices for long-term payoffs (which is why he fights so often with the Elephant, who generally prefers immediate gratification). He’s a clever tactician, too—give him a map and he’ll follow it perfectly. But we’ve also seen plenty of evidence of the Rider’s flaws—his limited reserves of strength, his paralysis in the face of ambiguity and choice, and his relentless focus on problems rather than solutions.
Here’s the good news: The Rider’s strengths are substantial, and his flaws can be mitigated. When you appeal to the Rider inside yourself or inside others you are trying to influence, your game plan should be simple.
First, follow the bright spots. Think of the Vietnamese children who stayed well nourished against the odds, or the Genentech sales reps who racked up sales against the odds. As you analyze your situation, you’re sure to find some things that are working better than others. Don’t obsess about the failures. Instead, investigate and clone the successes.
Next, give direction to the Rider—both a start and a finish. Send him a destination postcard (“You’ll be a third grader soon!”), and script his critical moves (“Buy 1% milk”).
When you do these things, you’ll prepare the Rider to lead a switch. And you’ll arm him for the ongoing struggles with his reluctant and formidable partner, the Elephant.
MOTIVATE THE ELEPHANT
5
Find the Feeling
1.
In 1992, Target was a $3 billion regional retailer, a pip-squeak compared to its competitors Kmart ($9 billion) and Wal-Mart ($30 billion). But it aspired to be different. Even in those days, the chain’s advertising was hip and fashionable. Unfortunately, the store’s merchandise didn’t deliver on the advertising’s promise. Customers complained: I see all these great ads, but when I come to the store, you’ve got the same boring stuff as Wal-Mart.
You already know how this movie ends. Over the following fifteen years, Target became “Tar-ZHAY,” the $63 billion giant, the Apple of the retailing world, the keeper of the beloved bull’s-eye, the champion of design. The new era started with the iconic Michael Graves teakettle and expanded over the years to Todd Oldham bedding and Isaac Mizrahi shower curtains and Mossimo sweaters and countless other products that combined the holy duo of hip and cheap.
The beginning and end points of the Target tale are pretty well known. But we suspect you don’t know much about the middle, and that’s a shame, because what happened in the middle was the change. It didn’t happen in the boardroom. It happened because of people like Robyn Waters.
Waters had no intention of working for Target. She was a self-described fashion snob, and she’d vowed not to come back to Minnesota, where she was raised, and where winter takes over much of fall and spring. She certainly had no intention of working for a discounter. She had an enviable job at the posh Jordan Marsh department store and was living in high style: “I was going to Italy and attending meetings with Armani and Versace and rubbing shoulders with all the fashionistas, and that was