When our plane touched down in Changi Airport, Singapore, my emotions over the upcoming meeting with my franchisors, to explain why our numbers had not grown for two quarters in the year, were a jumbled mix of anxiety in equal measure with my hope for a positive outcome. I hoped I would be understood, and feared I would not.
I had bought an educational franchise from a Singaporean company three years previously. Our contract included detailed performance measurements, report deadlines and review periods. I had signed the papers easily, without realising that I would be held strictly accountable to the numbers and conditions – in spite of mitigating realities. In our case, the trouble that had gotten me summoned (to explain myself to the vice-president of franchise operations) was a markedly lower performance during an election year, a point I had not thought necessary to capture in our agreement.
We had done well, actually. In two years, I had recruited five sub-franchisees (per target) and enrolled 7,000 students (beyond target). But the pace of student recruitment, and signing up of new franchisees slowed down in the run-up to the 2002 elections that transitioned Kenya from the oppressive (including economically) regime of President Daniel arap Moi to Mwai Kibaki’s.
“Economic slow downs are normal in our part of the world,” I had tried to explain.
Their response: “That statement is not in our contract.”
I tried to explain to my franchisors that the lull during the campaign year was temporary; that Kibaki was a brilliant economist; that all indications were that he would win and that his regime would usher in an era of prosperity.
Their response: “You promised to grow the the numbers — every quarter!”
We had talked on phone and exchanged emails to no end, and to no avail. Now, I was at Changi on my way to their office, to explain myself face to face…on their orders. I had been given an appointment: a date and a time.
Then a new problem arose… “Sir,” the immigration official asked me, “may I see your yellow fever vaccination certificate?”
“I am sorry, sir. I forgot it at home…”
“We need it, sir.”
Bummer! Yellow Fever vaccination certificate. Hardly anyone asked for it anymore in the developed world.
“Please step aside, sir. We need to process other visitors.”
I stepped aside. And when, after some time someone came to attend to me, I tried to explain that, yes, I had the certificate; just forgot it at home. I showed him all the countries I had travelled to, explaining that I could not have been allowed in those countries without the vaccination.
“I am sorry, sir,” the super-courteous airport official explained. “The rule here is that you must show the certificate.”
“But, look, officer. I have been to Singapore before – three years ago.” That was when I had jetted in to sign up to the franchise.
“Then you must have shown your certificate.”
“Yes, I did, officer,” I said, hopefully. “That proves I have had the jab.”
“It could have expired in the meantime. You must show the certificate upon each entry, sir. No exceptions.”
No exceptions. Reality, at last, sank in. In my country there were many exceptions.
“Does that mean I go back?”
“Either that, or we give you the jab.”
“Are there any side effects since I already have had it?” I asked
“Not any that I know of,” said the officer.
So I got the jab.
“You will stay in quarantine for an hour and a half,” the administering attendant explained.
My heart sank again. One and a half hours. That would mean that, most likely, I would be late getting to my appointment, and I already knew of the fixed positions my partners held to. A five minute delay in starting a meeting could see it cancelled.
I started to plead again — that the quarantine period be shortened — but quickly realised I was just wasting time. No exceptions.
Putting my mind to work, I turned to preparing for my meeting: went to the bathroom; freshened up; changed into official dress. Then I came out and checked through my presentation…. And as soon as my isolation period was up, I dashed off from the airport, opting to take a taxi instead of the train ride (I did not know then that the train service in Singapore is super-efficient, coming in at exactly 5 minute intervals).
“Excuse me, sir, would you please move a bit faster,” I urged the taxi driver. That is why, in my imagination, I had hoped to gain time. “I have an appointment at 9 am that I cannot miss by a minute.”
The taxi driver looked at his watch and continued at the same pace.
“I asked you to please drive faster,” I prodded, and getting no answer, I asked unnecessarily, “Do you understand English?”
“Yes, sir, I do,” the cab driver answered at last. “But I cannot overspeed. If you wish, I can drop you off at the next point to take the train.” Ouch!
“I understand,” I said, forced to understand.
As we drove on the cab driver showed me the cameras. They worked automatically, he explained, snapping the details of your number plate and automatically reporting your crime to a system that sent you a fine. “I could lose my driving licence, and my job. Do you see?” I did. Now I understood. No exceptions.
The traffic was smooth (The reason, I learned later: most of the population uses the super-efficient train service), and, whew, I made the appointment on time.
I also learned something else: whether on phone, via email, face to face, interaction with immigration and with officials cab drivers the reactions were consistently the same: no exceptions when it came to the execution of the law or contracts. A culture. A shared world view.
I lost the franchise; and the company was unable to find someone else in Kenya who would implement it in strict adherence to the no exceptions Singaporean rules. I also understood why Singapore, whose GDP trailed ours in 1960, now leads us 5 laps ahead.
Well, why this long story? The short answer is that as an entrepreneur you will be well-advised to understand the impact of culture in your business. At one level, your country’s culture, or that of the community in which your business is based: if people don’t keep time; if the community expects everyone to attend funerals of near and distant relatives; if payments are not expected to be based on quantifiable outputs. Those attributes, the sum of which create a shared worldview among the people you employ from that community will, invariably, creep into your business – and create, de facto, your organisation’s culture.
The winning approach, however, is for you to create your organisation’s culture — the values, practices and behavioural expectations among its leaders and workers. To that end, consider a few companies: Google has topped the list of Fortune 100’s “Best Companies to Work for” now for a grand total of four times. The company’s culture: innovation in the search and mapping business. Toyota, on the other hand, boasts a culture of commitment to continuous improvement. And Microsoft is known for its workforce resilience.
So how do you want your company to be described? Strive to answer that question and you have just defined, to a large extent, your desired organisation’s culture. But to make it happen, you will need to proactively recruit people who fit those intentions (I use a tool, available at http://www.pdpworks.com, which matches people’s personalities with job types); You will use data from your staff’s performance and behaviours to make decisions on training, transfers and firing of people. And you will set up structural facilities to aid the proliferation of the behaviours that you want to promote, for example, a casual, democratic atmosphere (a flat organisation) vs a hierarchical authoritarian institution; innovation.
The other set of deliberate “creations” towards the creation and maintenance of your organisation’s culture have to do with its vision, mission and values. Once crafted, they need to be communicated to employees and also lived out by its management. If you claim honesty to be one of your values, for example, you must practice transparency and open-door environment to demonstrate it. If you claim to value people, do you recognise small and big contributions by your employees?
In brief, the creation an organisation’s culture can either de facto, derived from the cultural context in which you do business, or it can be created through deliberate formative actions and ongoing reinforcements through teaching, practice, reward and sanctions.
Haron Wachira 