A few months ago I visited a potential customer, a high-tech startup, which like many Boston-area tech companies is developing astounding products that would have been considered science fiction only 10 years ago. The parking lot was half full at 8 a.m., but the entrance was locked to visitors, and no one was in the reception area.
ADVERTISEMENT |
As I waited in the cold to snag the attention of a passerby, an employee with a key card passed me and opened the door. I asked, “Could you let Mary B. know I’m waiting outside?”
Apologetically, he replied, “I’m sorry, sir, I’m just a maintenance man.” Before I could think to respond, these words spilled out of my mouth: “Dude, without you this place would not function.” He smiled and let me in, again apologizing that he didn’t know a Mary B.
Once inside, I waited until another employee connected me with Mary B., the engineering manager. The purpose of my visit was primarily to observe work in the factory, but I had the opportunity on the way to the factory to catch the Gen Z motif for office employees: open spaces, glass everywhere, bean bag chairs, a coffee bar, and a stocked fridge. “Pretty sweet area,” I said to my host.
“Yes,” Mary said, “we’re competing for a talented workforce.” Only a few employees were visible. It was Friday, an office-optional day. “We’re hybrid,” Mary added.
“How about the factory?” I asked.
“Two shifts,” Mary said. “We’re having trouble finding good workers. People just don’t want to work.”
This comment seemed inconsistent with her earlier praise of folks from the office. It also struck me as a bit ironic, since the factory workers were actually working in the factory, while many of the office employees were, well, hybrid.
Once in the factory, I took note of the work: light electromechanical assembly, system integration, and testing. Mary said, with some frustration, “We’re building our products while we’re still developing them.”
The factory looked more like a messy engineering lab than a shop floor. While I peppered Mary with questions about product mix and volumes, material and information flow, and supply chain issues, I also took note of the behavior of production employees, in particular the way they answered questions. Their responses were friendly but resigned—powerless—like the maintenance man at the front door. They were only assemblers in a high-tech startup pecking order.
And Mary was only an engineer. As we walked past a large department euphemistically labeled “Touch Up,” Mary said sarcastically, “This is our busiest department. Our first-pass yield is pretty low.” Trying to strike a more positive tone, I offered, “You have a remarkable product, and I think we can help with the first-past yield problem.”
“Yes, we’d like to get to that at some point,” Mary said, “but first we need to quickly make this look more like a factory. We have potential buyers.” This last bit of information put everything in perspective. Once again, before I could think, I blurted out a response. “So, in the words of David Lee Roth, ‘It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how good you look.’”
Mary chuckled. “Yes, kind of.” Ultimately, the company wanted a proposal only for 5S and visual control. They wanted the factory to look as good as the office.
My reflections
Putt’s Law: “Technology is dominated by two types of people, those who understand what they do not manage, and those who manage what they do not understand.” In this case, I suppose the second group was a venture capitalist; Mary and everyone else I spoke to was the first.
Technology can create astounding products, but if people are powerless there will be more rework than work.
Published March 28, 2025, by Old Lean Dude.
Add new comment