If I were one of the BCG strategists, I wouldn’t have done anything different. The client, Clark Equipment, was clearly struggling. And I had data, evidence, and insights to prove that change was in order. So, the only rational move for the leadership and me would be to impose a strategy that would allow Clark’s to survive in a hyper-competitive environment.
When Clark’s brought in the master strategists from BCG, they weren’t looking for a band-aid but a long-term strategy to help them out of the hole. The financials weren’t great; production costs were way too high due to the feature-rich machinery they were using, and they were losing to rival products that were far cheaper and far more basic.
Naturally, the strategists noticed the discrepancy — why build products with so many features when people don’t even want them? Switch to something in line with market demand, lower production costs, bring down the retail price, and give the competition a run for their money.
The next-best alternative was to let the company bleed out into bankruptcy.
What they missed was the human reality of implementation — heavily influenced by organizational inertia and culture. They had a bulletproof plan to help the company bounce back, but didn’t account for the culture of proud engineers whose mission was to build the best machine. Features, convenience, superior technology — all of which cost money.
That’s like asking Picasso to draw a stick figure, frame it, hang it on the wall at the Louvre, and call it his life’s work.
Two invisible forces were quietly running the show. For the consultants, the arrogance of intellect is the assumption that brilliant analysis is unquestionable. For the engineers, organizational inertia and cultural identity, the deep belief that building a better machine is always the right thing to do, regardless of how it shows up on the bottom line.