In his famous essay "Notes on Nationalism," written
at the end of World War II, George Orwell outlined the realities
that various nationalist groups denied, as these contradicted
their goals.
His examples included English pacifists living in a free
society only because others were willing kill Nazis and British
traditionalists whose empire had nearly dissolved and who now
depended on the United States for security against the Soviet
Union.
This concept applies in the business world as well. There are
often contradictions "in front of your nose" (the title
of another great Orwell essay from that period), which we
resolutely ignore until too late.
Perhaps the biggest impact of our knowledge economy and
networked society is the increased speed at which conflicted
business models shatter. This is a broad trend, manifesting itself
in society and business.
By conflicted models, I am not referring to Monday-morning
quarterbacking, using the benefit of hindsight to point out how
obvious the winners are. In 1990, who would have predicted that
IBM, Dell and Microsoft would be dominant, and that Digital
Equipment, Compaq and Novell would be shadows of their former
selves?
No, I am speaking of true oxymorons, businesses whose reality
contradicted their very purpose.
Guardians of the empire
For example, consider Arthur Andersen's laxity in intertwining
audit and consulting services in its final years, before its
involvement in the Enron scandal and subsequent implosion.
The Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), established by
Congress after the financial meltdown of 1929, mandated that all
publicly traded companies have annual independent financial
audits.
Arthur Andersen in particular made its reputation by the
rigorous probity of its founder and his successors. Their audits
often challenged corporate executives. The auditing firm's name,
and the names of some of Andersen's competitors, became synonymous
with trust.
Over the next 50 years, the leading accounting firms grew into
global powerhouses. These "Big Eight" had a de facto
monopoly on the auditing of public companies worldwide.
Increasingly, as computers became central to financial
management, these accounting firms grew into consulting firms as
well, intertwining business strategy, software integration, and a
host of other services. By 1990, all had multibillion-dollar
consulting practices spanning the globe.
Until about 1990, the conflict of interest between auditing and
consulting seemed negligible. Big audit clients had often been
with a firm for decades, and audit partners were loath to do
anything that threatened those relationships and the
"annuity" they represented.
But software integration consulting began to dwarf the annual
audit in revenue. Arguments arose between the accountants and the
consultants over how to split the revenue -- the consultants
wanted to keep their larger share; the accountants felt it was
built on their relationships -- and how aggressive the corporate
culture should be.
The firms began to see a split between the consulting partners,
who could make millions of dollars annually, and the accounting
partners, who had to "get by" on the $250,000 or so that
their auditing services produced.
Consulting Spinoff
In 1989, Arthur Andersen, the largest and most prestigious of
the firms, spun off its consulting divisions into Andersen
Consulting, although it took a decade of acrimonious negotiation
to conclude the terms of separation. Andersen Consulting, now
called Accenture, continued to grow rapidly during the 1990s,
becoming a $9.5 billion firm by 2000. It handled only the largest
projects of the Fortune 500, leaving plenty of room for Arthur
Andersen, the accounting firm, to regrow a consulting division.
As the 1990s bull market expanded, accounting firms became much
more aggressive -- enabling the financial manipulations of rogue
CEO's at Sunbeam, Waste Management, Enron and others and playing
an active role in pressuring Congress and the SEC to lightly
enforce accounting regulations.
In retrospect, Arthur Andersen spent its final 10 years
squandering the trust and moral capital the firm had built during
the previous 70 years.
The Warning Signs
Is there any way to recognize these conflicted dynamics before
they crash and burn? Look for what I call the Six Stages of
Business Oxymorons:
A + B = D. The core mission of the organization or process
is contradicted by its current actions. If your life depended on
it, you could not create a flow chart or software program
describing logically, step by step, how these actions fulfill your
stated mission.
Complexity. These dynamics tend to arise in esoteric, niche
domains that are overseen by specialists. For example, think of
Enron's energy-trading operations and the California power
shortage.
From exception to critical mass. Often these contradictions
grow slowly over time. They might begin as unregulated behavior
appropriate in exceptional circumstances, and slowly grow until
they become the norm, even though they now violate the very
purpose of the organization. For example, the "special
purpose entities" whose abuse ultimately sank Enron are a
valid tool when used sparingly to mitigate risk, rather than to
hide losses.
Stakeholders in denial. In the short term, most of the
people or organizations affected benefit from avoiding the
unpleasant conflict.
Cushion of boom. An economic boom creates a state of mass
euphoria in which pointing out the contradiction is derided as
pessimism or negativity.
Crisis. As in the Roadrunner cartoons, when the coyote
looks down and sees the abyss, he plunges into it.
Business oxymorons have surfaced in the equity analysis
industry, the mutual fund industry and are at play in the debate
over expensing stock options.
"People can foresee the future only when it coincides with
their own wishes," Orwell wrote in another essay. "And
the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are
unwelcome."