老闆行為失常 是企業衰敗主因
摘錄自：天下雜誌 經濟學人電子報 2013/12/20
2013-12-06 Web only 作者：經濟學人
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| 圖片來源：flickr.com/photos/ru_boff/ |
還會在早餐時讀報紙的人，最近有些非常不錯的選擇：是要從布拉福德的衛理公會教徒開始？還是要從多倫多的毒癮客開始？前英國合作銀行董事長、衛理公會牧師佛勞爾斯（Paul Flowers），被控購買古柯鹼和甲基安非他命；多倫多市場福特（Rob Ford）也終於承諾自已有吸食快克古柯鹼。
佛勞爾斯並不是銀行家，他是在政治架構中升遷，福特則是個民選政治人物，但他們仍舊反映了商業界常常忽視的問題：你要如何看出老闆出現了失控跡象？該怎麼避免老闆失控？
角落辦公室有如個人問題的製造廠。景氣正好時，執行長已承受著極大的績效壓力，更何況景氣不好的時候。此外，權力還會腐化人心；社會科學家在實驗中發現，隨機給予受測者凌駕於他人之上的權力，就算只是一點點權力，都會。
執行長行為失常可能會導致企業崩解：WorldCom、Hollinger、蘇格蘭皇家銀行等企業的內爆，都讓人不禁聯想到老闆的行為。但就算是在沒有嚴重失能的企業，高層主管的一時奇想，也有可能為企業帶來傷害，或是引來下屬的逢迎拍馬。
老闆步向失常的最明顯跡象就是浮誇。他會將企業成功完全歸功於自己，沈迷於自我推銷，或是要求更多奢侈的獎賞；有項研究顯示，出現在商業雜誌封面上的執行長，發動愚蠢併購的機會也比較高。第二個跡象是過度控管；老闆在身邊放滿了唯命是從之人並打壓異議，試圖掌控所有的細節，而非建立強大的管理團隊。第三個跡象則是決策扭曲；老闆將個人和企業的資產合併，沉迷於收購其他企業，或是專注於怪異的細節。
執行長在位時間越久，就越有機會臣服於這些虛榮之中。他習慣了其他人向自己搖尾乞憐，也習慣將自己與其他高位者相較。老闆可能會覺得自己實在太聰明，拒絕為離職作計畫，或是打壓可能的接任人選。西方石油公司（Occidental Petroleum）的哈默（Armand Hammer）就曾要求董事會同意一份長達十年的紅利方案，當時他已經九十幾歲了。
企業該如何制止失常的老闆──理想一點的話，企業該如何在老闆失常之前就制止他？獵人頭公司MWM在最近的研究中指出，董事會必須將「行為風險」列為選才的標準考量。董事長也該在執行長上任時和他聊一聊工作的私人層面，而且得持續這麼做。
然而，最好的答案在於執行長自身。執行長必須認清，成功的最大威脅可能就是自己。他們必須培養看清自己的能力；生技公司Amgen的前老闆夏爾（Kevin Sharer），每年都會在直接提交給董事會的報告中列出自己的強項和弱項，還在辦公室中放了一張卡斯特將軍（General Custer）的畫像，警醒自己千萬不要過於傲慢。
企業界已經開始認真看待這些問題。哈佛商學院最熱門的課程之一，就是克里斯汀生（Clayton Christensen）開設的課程，其主題即為教導商業人士如何避免沉迷於短期成功。FTSE 100企業中，約4成的企業老闆雇用了「個人導師」。平均來看，目前的執行長任期是十年前的一半；這或許會讓執行長不太安心，但也讓他們比較不會沉醉於權力之中。
話雖如此，看見黑影就亂開槍仍屬不智之舉。老闆有權保有隱私；最近幾年，波音和惠普都犯下因外遇問題而開除執行長這樣的錯誤。古怪和天才之間的界線十分模糊，老闆們本來就是怪人：比你我更有野心也更有自信。有些最具創意的商業人士確實是怪人，例如亨利．福特（Henry Ford）就非常喜愛惡劣無比的陰謀論。一如過往，最重要的企業決策仍舊與複雜的人格特質脫不了關係。（黃維德譯）
©The Economist Newspaper Limited 2013
The Economist
Schumpeter
Going off the
rails
By The Economist
From The Economist
Published: December 06, 2013
Nov 30th 2013 | From the print edition
Companies need to keep an eye on their bosses for signs of destructive
behaviour.
THOSE of us who still read newspapers over breakfast have had a
delicious choice of late: do we start with the story about Bradford's crystal
Methodist or the one about Toronto's stuporman? Paul Flowers, the former
chairman of Britain's Co-operative Bank and a Methodist minister, allegedly
bought cocaine and crystal meth for a "drug-fuelled" orgy. Rob Ford,
Toronto's mayor, has finally admitted, after months of denials, that he smoked
crack cocaine—before adding the comforting proviso that he only did it in
"one of my drunken stupors".
What does any of this have to do with Schumpeter's home territory of
chief executives? Mr Flowers was no banker: he rose through the co-operative
movement's political structures. Mr Ford is an elected politician. But they
nevertheless illustrate a problem too often ignored in business, where people
are much happier talking about dollars than dolour: how can you tell when a
boss is showing signs that he may go off the rails? And what should be done
about it?
The corner office is almost a factory for personal problems. Chief
executives are under greater pressure to perform at the best of times; how much
greater in periods of economic turbulence. Yet at the same time power corrupts.
In experiments social scientists have shown, by giving random subjects power
over others, that even in small doses it produces overconfidence, insensitivity
and an urge to associate with other people with power.
Chief executives' oddities can lead to complete corporate breakdown: it
is impossible to read about the implosions at WorldCom or Hollinger or the
Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS) without being astonished by the bosses' behaviour.
But even in less dysfunctional firms the whims of the man at the top can cause
damaging depression or sycophancy below. Chief executives are the nearest
things democracies have to sun kings.
An obvious sign of a boss breaking bad is grandiosity. He attributes
the company's success wholly to himself, indulges in endless self-promotion or
demands ever more extravagant rewards. Jean-Marie Messier, who transformed
Vivendi from a staid water utility into a media conglomerate that ran up huge
losses, borrowed his nickname—"J6M", which stands for
"Jean-Marie Messier Moi-Même-Maître-du-Monde"—for the title of his
autobiography. One study shows that chief executives who appear on the covers
of business magazines are more likely to make foolish acquisitions. A second
sign is over-control. The boss surrounds himself with yes-men and crushes
dissent. He tries to control every detail of corporate life rather than
building a strong executive team. A third sign is distorted decision-making.
The chief conflates personal and corporate assets, is obsessed with buying
other companies, or focuses on bizarre details. Mr Messier spent $17.5m of
Vivendi's money on a New York apartment for his personal use. Fred Goodwin,
boss of RBS, micromanaged the building of a £350m ($630m) head office, called
"Fredtown" by his underlings, and found time to redesign the bank's
Christmas cards.
A chief executive becomes likelier to succumb to these vanities the
longer he stays in the job. He gets used to people fawning over him. He
measures himself against other inhabitants of Planet Davos, not those Barack
Obama calls "regular folk". Percy Barnevik, the boss of Asea Brown
Boveri, an engineering conglomerate, was widely hailed as "Europe's answer
to Jack Welch". But the comparison went to his head: he pursued ever more
reckless acquisitions and got himself awarded a tax-free pension of $87m. A boss
may think himself so brilliant he refuses to plan for his eventual departure or
undermines possible successors. Armand Hammer, of Occidental Petroleum, asked
his board to agree to a long-term bonus plan, with a ten-year payout, when in
his 90s.
What can companies do to stop the boss behaving oddly—ideally, before
he starts? In a recent study MWM Consulting, a firm of headhunters, argues that
boards need to make "behavioural risk" a standard part of their
agenda. This might well include taking soundings from senior management.
Chairmen also need to start talking to chief executives about the personal side
of the job when they are first appointed, and keep talking afterwards.
Remember the Little Bighorn
However, the best answer lies with chief executives themselves, who
must recognise that the biggest threat to their success may lie within. They
need to cultivate the art of seeing themselves as others see them. Kevin
Sharer, the former boss of Amgen, a biotech company, used to get his direct
reports to list his strengths and weaknesses annually for the board. He also
kept a painting of General Custer in his office as a warning against hubris.
The business world is starting to take these problems seriously. One of
the most popular courses at Harvard Business School is Clayton Christensen's
course on how businesspeople should guard against an obsession with short-term
success. About 40% of the heads of FTSE 100 companies employ "personal
coaches". Chief executives last half as long in the job, on average, as
they did a decade ago. That may be bad for their nerves, but it makes them less
likely to be become marinated in power.
That said, it is foolish to treat a cold as a cancer. Bosses have a
right to privacy. In recent years Boeing and Hewlett-Packard have erred in
disposing of chief executives after consensual affairs. The border between
eccentricity and brilliance can be blurred. Bosses are peculiar anyway: more
ambitious and more self-confident than the rest of us. Some of the most
creative people in business have been very peculiar indeed: Henry Ford loved
conspiracy theories of the blackest hue; Thomas Watson of IBM commissioned
company songs in his own honour. The most important business decisions are
still, as they have always been, nuanced ones about character and its
complexities.
©The Economist Newspaper Limited 2013
