pple's package-design team had just
returned from its presentation to Steve
Jobs, and the faces told the story – they had
that "things didn't go exactly as we planned"
look.
"The suspense is killing me," I said to the
project leader. "How'd it go this morning?"
"Well," he said, "Steve hit us with the Simple
Stick." Translation: Jobs had rejected their work
– not because it was bad but because, in some
way, it failed to distil the idea to its essence.
The person leading the project had directed the
team to create packaging for two versions of the
same product. Jobs had decided this was brain-
dead. "Just combine them," he said. "One
product, one box." There was no need to
explore the idea of a second package.
He was right. It was simpler, quicker, better.
The conversation was over in minutes, and it
left one very smart and talented group of
people wondering why they hadn't thought of
that before.
The Simple Stick symbolises a core value within
Apple . Sometimes it's held up as inspiration;
other times it's wielded like a caveman's club: a
deep, almost religious belief in the power of
simplicity.
If you're prepared to do battle with complexity,
you'll have no trouble finding a fight. Chances
are you're surrounded by it. Unless you work
in the rarest of environments, complexity lives
inside your organisation's hierarchy, its goals,
and probably most of your colleagues as well. If
your company ever fails, you can be sure it
won't be the fault of simplicity – it will be the
result of its absence.
Think brutal
Clarity propels an organisation. Not occasional
clarity but pervasive, 24-hour, in-your-face,
take-no-prisoners clarity. Most people never
perceive that this is lacking in their
organisation, but 90% of the time it is. Just open
a few random emails, activate your "brutal-
vision", and read. The muddying messages are
rampant. If people were brutally honest in their
emails, the time we spend sorting through our
in-boxes would surely decrease by half.
Steve Jobs demanded straightforward
communication from others as much as he
dished it out himself. He'd cut you off if you
rambled. He ran his business as if there were
precious little time to waste, which well
reflected the reality for Apple – as surely it does
for any company serious about competing.
This is probably the one element of Simplicity
that's easiest to institute. Just be honest and
never hold back. Demand the same from those
you work with. You'll make some people
squirm, but everyone will know where they
stand; 100% of your group's time will be
focused on forward progress – no need to
decode what people are really saying.
There is a general perception that Jobs was the
nasty tyrant who demanded allegiance, barked
commands, and instilled the fear of God in
those around him. While Jobs certainly did
exhibit these behaviours, this portrait is
incomplete. The man could also be funny,
warm, and even charming. There is a huge
difference between being brutally honest and
simply being brutal.
You can't let yourself be talked into going along
with something when you know it can be
better. Ever. To settle for second best is a
violation of the rules of simplicity, and it plants
the seeds for disappointment, extra work, and
more meetings. Most disturbing, it puts you in
the worst possible business position: having to
defend an idea you never believed in.
Your challenge is to become unbending when it
comes to enforcing your standards. Mercilessly
so. If you submit only the work you believe in
100% and approve only the work you believe in
100%, you own something that no one can take
away from you: integrity.
As often happens in life, one must often suffer
the consequences of doubting before becoming
a believer. I'm not proud of it, but that's the
way I learned my lesson about standards.
There was a certain amount of theatre that went
on inside Apple. The rules were well known,
and a number of dramas played out with
predictability. That Jobs was intolerant of
stupidity is a matter of record. He wasn't at all
polite when stupidity reared its ugly head. He
especially wasn't fond of employing stupidity,
so if you were on Apple's staff and wanted to
retain that status, it was wise not to display
your lack of smarts in a meeting with him.
You'd just set him off and get it right between
the eyes.
A former Apple senior staffer remembers a
routine that he saw played out often during his
time as a direct report to Jobs. He calls it "the
rotating turret". There was no predicting when
it would happen, as it depended on how
conversations evolved. But in some meeting, at
some random time, some poor soul in the room
would say something that everyone in the room
could tell was going to light Jobs's fuse.
First came the uncomfortable pause. The
offending comment would reverberate in the
air, and it would seem as if the entire world
went into slow motion as Jobs's internal sensors
fixed on the origin of the sound wave.
You could almost hear the meshing of gears as
his "turret" slowly turned toward the guilty
party. Everyone knew what was coming—but
was powerless to stop it.
Finally, the turret would lock on to its target. In
a split second Jobs would activate his firing
mechanism, and without a second thought he'd
unload all his ammunition. It was
uncomfortable to watch and even more
uncomfortable to experience, but at Apple it
was just a fact of life.
Think small
How many overpopulated meetings do you sit
through in a year? How many of those meetings
get sidetracked or lose focus in a way that
would never occur if the group were half the
size? The small group rule requires
enforcement, but it's worth the cost.
Out in the real world, when I talk about small
groups of smart people, I rarely get any
pushback. That's because common sense tells us
it's the right way to go. Most people know from
experience that the fastest way to lose focus,
squander valuable time, and water down great
ideas is to entrust them to a larger group. Just
as we know that there is equal danger in
putting ideas at the mercy of a large group of
approvers.
One reason why large, unwieldy groups tend to
be created in many companies is that the
culture of a company is bigger than any one
person. It's hard to change "the way we do
things here". This is where the zealots of
simplicity need to step in and overcome the
inertia.
One must be judicious and realistic about
applying the small-group principle. Simply
making groups smaller will obviously not solve
all problems, and "small" is a relative term.
Only you know your business and the nature of
your projects, so only you can draw the line
between too few people and too many. You
need to be the enforcer and be prepared to hit
the process with the Simple Stick when the
group is threatened with unnecessary
expansion.
In one iconic technology company with which I
worked I found a framed sign in every
conference room designed to nudge the
employees toward greater productivity. The
headline on the sign was how to have a
successful meeting. The content read like it
came right out of a corporate manual, which it
likely did. It featured a bullet-pointed list of
things like: "State the agenda at the start of your
meeting," "Encourage participation by all
attendees," and "Conclude your meeting with
agreement on next steps".
What these signs really said, though, was:
"Welcome to a very big company! Just follow
these signs and you'll fit in well." It's not hard
to imagine Jobs, who actively fought big-
company behaviour, gleefully ripping these
signs off the wall and replacing them with
Ansel Adams prints that might provide a
moment of reflection or inspiration.
If you ever work at Apple there will be no signs
on the wall telling you how to run a meeting.
Likewise, there will be no signs telling you how
to tie your shoes or fill a glass of water. The
assumption is that you are well equipped with
brains and common sense and that you're a
fully functioning adult. If you're not already a
disciple of simplicity, you'll become one soon.
Either that, or you'll decide you'd rather not be
part of such a thing, which is okay too.
Simplicity prefers not having to train a bucking
bronco.
If big companies really feel compelled to put
something on their walls, a better sign might
read:
How to Have a Great Meeting
