PULLING THE RELEASE LEVER
When the leader of a corporation gets his or her head out
of the machine, the creative force of capitalism is liberated to
move in a new direction. Take John Akehurst, the former CEO of
Woodside Petroleum Corporation, which is a publicly traded
Australian oil and gas production company. Now, Akehurst
certainly doesn't look like someone you'd identify in a lineup
as a revolutionary. He looks more like a mild-mannered
behind-the-desk man—and yet there is an ease and openness
about him that suggest far more than the fact that he's enjoying
his retirement. John Akehurst, if you hear him tell it, is a
transformed man. And his transformation led to remarkable
changes within Woodside Petroleum.
As a tough-minded “command-and-control”
executive, Akehurst joined Woodside in 1994 to cut operating
costs and improve performance. He reduced the workforce by
twenty-five percent and, using the best practices known within
the mechanistic model, Woodside's performance definitely
improved. By 1999, the company had doubled in size and was a
very high performer on the Australian stock exchange. Their
vision, “to be the best operator of oil and gas facilities
in the world,” says Akehurst, “proved to be very
inspiring for people in the workplace—for a few
years.” While he doesn't know why—perhaps his
employees burned out, or maybe the time had simply
come—the momentum driving Woodside to be the most
efficient oil producer possible came to an abrupt halt.
“We ran out of steam,” he says. “All of a
sudden, I heard people saying, 'What are we really doing all
this for? What's the meaning of all this? Is it all about
slaving away to reduce costs by another two or three percent per
year for the next decade? What's the purpose of life at
work?'”
Akehurst was confounded. And no matter how hard he
tried, he couldn't come up with a new vision for the company.
They were stuck. Unbeknownst to him, he was hitting the walls of
the machine—reaching the limits of his own way of
thinking. Through surveys, the top managers discovered that the
employees felt that the management didn't trust them and that
they were not given an appropriate level of autonomy. “My
first reaction as chief executive was to say, 'Well, that's
rubbish. Bunch of wimps—tell them to read the authorities
manual and get on with it.' Only when this persisted did I start
to recognize that there were some more underlying issues to
address,” he says. “The behavior that we exhibited
in the office was quite inefficient. People used knowledge as
power. The interpersonal behavior between individuals was often
competitive. We could see the problem, but we were at our wits'
end to know how to address it. We knew that we had to pull the
'people lever'—people and values—but the question
was How?” “Pulling the people
lever”—a mechanistic metaphor if there ever was
one—meant that Akehurst and his team decided to change
Woodside's culture to bring about greater cooperation and
creativity. Little did they know that pulling that
“lever,” if you are sincere about creating change,
can release you from the mechanistic mindset.
John Akehurst found himself and his top management team in a
workshop with Michael Rennie, a partner at the global consulting
firm McKinsey & Company, and Gita Bellin, a leader in the human
potential movement. The effect of the workshop, which was like
nothing they had ever done before, was profound. “Perhaps
the biggest and most simple thing that we recognized was that
our behavior as leaders was creating the things that we were
grumbling about in the rest of the organization,” he
recalls. “Other people were not being creative and were
not acting autonomously because we thought we knew all the
answers and kept telling them what to do instead of giving them
directional guidance and coaching them so that they had the
space to grow, express themselves in the workplace, and deliver
the product of their ideas and efforts on time.”
For Akehurst, the experience was a personal revelation.
“I was a bit of a bully,” he confesses, with
disarming frankness. Like any modern manager, he says,
“I'm very good at analytic things. This is very useful in
business. But in our 'command-and-control' environment at the
time, I also used my intellect to brutalize people without fully
recognizing what I was doing.” Akehurst began to seek
feedback from his subordinates: “I'd ask people to point
out to me after a meeting if I'd slipped back into some of my
angry and bullying ways.” But more significantly, he
discovered something about himself that stunned him. “The
big thing for me was recognizing that I had not felt joy in my
life for a long time. I walked around with this cloud of
anxiety: Were we going to make our business performance goals?
Had I made the right choice about this, that, or the
other?” he tells me. “I recognized that this was not
good for the business, and I also had a personal yearning for
things to be different. I just knew, 'I cannot go on like
this.'” During the workshop, when he finally let go of the
“shield” that he had built up on his way to becoming
a CEO, “there was a huge sense of togetherness as a
team.” Akehurst says simply, “The external
environment is not different; it's just that I've chosen a
different way of being.”
The machine is not simply a metaphor. It is a state of
consciousness. A new creativity can be released when leaders
reach beyond the numbers and controls to find out what moves the
human beings inside organizations. “What we found was that
if you ask people to stretch to reach for a higher human purpose
and meaning,” Akehurst explains, “they will be more
courageous about what they are doing. Then miraculous things
happen that are well beyond the previous expectations of the
individuals and the company.” For example, discovering
that many in the organization felt ashamed about working with
nonrenewable resources (even though the company was also engaged
in developing sustainable forms of energy), they faced the issue
straight on. “We were able to take on a far more
challenging vision. We had the temerity to see ourselves as a
service provider to humanity.” Akehurst tells me,
“We decided that we were only going to do things if we
could be proud of them, which really caught the imagination of
the workforce. Someone would say, 'Wouldn't it be exciting for
us to go to another country, produce their first oil and gas,
and do it in a way that is profitable and actually
enhances the unspoiled environment and the economy of that
terribly poor nation?' Then people would get really excited,
realizing that they could make a real contribution to
humanity.” By stepping outside the corporate mindset,
Akehurst made possible a new kind of capitalist creativity that
is generative.
So the leader goes first. When he or she abandons the
command-and-control outpost at the top of the corporate
hierarchy and begins to engage in authentic relationships that
include shared learning, commitment to a vision, and a deeper
integrity, then the blood begins to flow in the organization.
But transformation cannot stop with the leader. The machine
needs to be dismantled. The whole system needs to change.