insights you can use |
|
|
"Poor management can increase software costs more rapidly than any other factor." (Barry Boehm) Behind Closed Doors: Secrets of Great Management (Pragmatic Programmers) Archives Dec 2008 Nov 2008 Oct 2008 Dec 2007 Nov 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2006 November 2006 October 2006 September 2006 August 2006 July 2006 June 2006 April 2006 March 2006 February 2006 January 2006 November 2005 October 2005 September 2005 August 2005 July 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 January 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 November 2003 October 2003 September 2003 August 2003 July 2003 June 2003 May 2003 April 2003 March 2003 February 2003 Contents (c) 2003-2008 Esther Derby I also publish an occasional newsletter for people who manage in software organizations. If you'd like to receive the newsletter, drop me an email. It's on paper, so please include surface coordinates - name and full address.
Syndicate this site (XML)
|
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
A change story
![]() I’ve been noticing a problem in my office lately. My dog, Pudge, spends a lot of time in the office with me. She has a blanket in the corner where she hangs out and naps or chews her nyla bone. The only problem is that the blanket tends to spread out and cover a large expanse of the hardwood floor right across the entrance into my office. Then I come in and step on it and go flying. Plus when it’s spread out, it’s not very cushy for Pudge. So I had the bright idea to improve things and make things better for both of us. I sent away for a fine, cushion-y, and washable dog bed. I measured Pudge, and I measured her other favorite spot (a chair in the living room) to get the right size. I was sure she’d love it. Why wouldn’t she? The new bed would be much better than the ratty old yarn blanket, much cushier and more comfortable. And her nyla bone wouldn’t get snagged in the yarn and all tangled when she pawed the blanket around. When the new dog bed arrived, Pudge was curious about the box. She was even curious about what was in it. But when I took her ratty yarn blanket away, her curiousity vanished. I put the cushy new dog bed down and urged her to try it. She sniffed at it, then took her nyla bone into the kitchen for a good chew. Over the course of the day she moved all her chews and toys to a new location, far away from the new bed. The next day, instead of hanging out in the office on her fine new dog bed, she sat in the kitchen on the hard floor. After a while, I enticed her onto the new bed with a biscuit. She stepped gingerly onto the bed, picked up the biscuit and left. Later, I picked her up and put her on the bed. She stayed as long as I was scratching her belly, then headed back to the kitchen. Eventually, she accepted that her ratty yarn blanket wasn’t coming back and started lying on the cushy new dog bed. We’re in a new status quo. She’s content in the corner of the office, all her nyla bones have migrated back, and I’m not tripping on the blanket. So what can a story about my dog tell us about change? So don’t take someone else’s lack of enthusiasm as an indictment of you or your ideas--but look at how you introduce your ideas. Labels: change | |