I am called the King. If you use familiar terms, I am a consultant. More precisely, I am the owner of a new-style consulting company. I devised a scheme in which my company guaranteed very decent earnings while, strangely enough, benefiting the client.
What do you think the essence of my business scheme is? You will never guess. I sell factories their own programmers and their own automation. Much more expensive, of course.
As you understood from my previous story, I was quite a successful director. Many of you might not believe me – but with due diligence, you can find my old publications, where you'll discover my real last name and read about my successes. However, I prefer not to advertise myself.
I realized the value of an automated system and programmers a while back. I emphasize – not the value of automation as a process. The truly remarkable automation system is the one you have. And the programmer you have is pure gold. But you will only realize this in one of two cases: either they leave you (the probability that you will understand this is low), or I sell them to you.
Let me start from the beginning. First of all, when I decided to engage in this business, I chose the market. I didn't think long – because I had experience managing a poultry farm. If you abstract it a bit, it results in such parameters: an old enterprise created during the Soviet era, many employees still from that time, a new owner with no understanding of this business, a hired director – importantly, not one of the former employees, and, most importantly – the provinces.
The idea to choose this particular field of work is not mine; I picked it up from two guys. One was engaged in implementing ISO at a time when everyone thought that this certificate meant something. The other was involved in automating factories on 1C around 2005-2010, when it was scary for any factory to work with something else (which is, in general, also inexplicable).
These guys had different reasons for their choice. Firstly, the distance from the owner and his rare visits gave local directors a certain freedom. Secondly, there is a problem with personnel in the provinces, which means one can keep "on board" someone for quite a while. Thirdly, the same personnel shortage primarily affected management. Various unique individuals led these factories.
Perhaps that’s why they were easily swayed by any fuss, except for hunger strikes. ISO, then ISO. 1C, then 1C. Website, then website. And so on.
These guys actually prepared a great market for me. Where ISO was implemented, no one understood how to work properly. Previously, there were no processes, factories were moving, even developing, and they didn’t think badly of themselves. The ISO standard is the perfect tool to create a feeling of guilt out of nothing. They wrote up documents with processes, but they operate on some average scheme—most importantly, they do production, sales, logistics, etc., just as they always have, while all the paperwork, like contracts and approvals, is done according to ISO.
Those who work according to ISO occasionally reproach the "old believers" for being stuck in the Stone Age. They all understand intellectually that they shouldn't work according to ISO, but subconsciously they think—no, guys, you're just clumsy, that's why you can't work with processes. Ideally, they shouldn’t have known about ISO at all.
Automation has prepared the ground even better. Any software product, website, or service at a provincial factory can be described in one word: under-implemented. Gentlemen engaged in automation do not want to notice this, although it’s a huge market if approached correctly, but that’s their business.
But there is one particularity: the product is under-implemented by just a little bit. However, to understand this, one must delve into it. And only a programmer can, wants to, and will delve into it.
If you want to check if the information system is implemented at a factory or not, ask a simple question: show me the report that collects all the currently missing materials and purchased semi-finished products. It is important that it is specifically in the system, not in Excel, and not calculated by economists for the beginning of the month or week, and not entered manually (some do it that way).
If the answer is "no," then the system is underimplemented. If you are a programmer, you understand that there is just one step left until victory – to gather all the data in one form. And the data is already there. It is a simple task of distributing one table to another, considering consumption priorities and material interchangeability, and voila – you have a complete and accurate list of what needs to be purchased.
But this last step is never taken. The supply manager just complains that something hasn't been automated. The director is already tired of hearing this and simply ignores it. And the programmer doesn't care because he is constantly being criticized – whether it’s one bucket less or one bucket more, what difference does it make? When you're being criticized, it's better to keep your mouth shut – you'll end up with more than you can handle. Everyone has grown feathers like geese – it all flows while you walk from the meeting to your den.
So, here is our factory. It works somehow, but it thinks of itself as doing poorly. The processes are bad, there is no automation, and the website brings no benefit; it’s even embarrassing to visit it. If you enter the factory at this moment, you could catch them off guard. But unfortunately, this moment passes very quickly – the local scale of "kvass patriotism" kicks in.
Just as a person gradually convinces themselves that everything is fine, so does the enterprise, especially the director. At first, it’s out of anger that nothing changes, not even with obvious problems. They simply abandon any initiatives and work as they can. Then humor emerges, fueled by numerous amusing stories about unfortunate consultants, false silver bullets, and failed change implementation projects. This is when patriotism appears. It’s as if we are who we are, and all this nonsense is from the devil, and there’s no use in it.
It is very difficult for a director of such a factory to sell any consulting. Most likely, he won't even agree to meet with you. He hasn’t read books or articles in a long time. He doesn’t attend conferences. Almost all paths to his mind and soul are closed off to consultants. And at this point, I came up with an interesting solution.
To understand its meaning, recall Christopher Nolan's film "Inception," starring Leonardo DiCaprio. They have the ability to connect to a sleeping person, enter their dream, and implant an idea. They refer to this process as "inception." The essence is that when the person wakes up, they believe the idea is their own, rather than imposed from the outside. Only in this case will they take on the implementation of it.
Of course, I don’t know how to enter dreams, but I found a solution. I implant ideas through a factory of "idiots" — I have an entire division of them. The "idiot" is the IT director.
Strangely enough, provincial factories love to hire metropolitan IT directors who, by chance, find themselves in their midst. We’ve thought of everything – we even provide him with a local residence permit, creating a legend that his grandmother lives here, or he always dreamed of living closer to the river, or he’s an unfinished downshifter (in the sense that he still works), plus a few other options. The main thing is that the "idiot" doesn't look like an outsider but seems like one of their own.
And so he arrives at the factory, brings his diplomas, which I generously supply all the "idiots" with, and he is happily accepted for the job. He has real recommendations because between his "idiot" roles, he works as a "rescuer" (more on that later), so no HR can find fault, especially the rural ones.
Next, the "idiot" has a simple task – to be an idiot. Similar to Prince Myshkin from Dostoevsky. I got this idea from the internet book "Career Steroids" — there, this method is called "Gabbler," but I’ve modified it – I have dumb gabblers. A gabler is someone who openly points out the problems of the enterprise but knows how to solve them. It's a way to attract attention, and once they succeed, they brilliantly solve the problem. But a dumb gabler doesn’t know how to solve anything.
Imagine an ordinary weekly meeting. The director asks everyone, one by one, how it's going. Everyone complains about something minor. For example, the production team points fingers at the supply chain – they're missing a tiny part, which is causing a delay in assembling the product. Well, the suppliers dropped the ball and didn't order it on time. Usually, everyone stays silent; at most, they might put a request to the supply manager, something like "take this on personal control." But our clueless staff member raises their hand and, like a character from a play, says, "Hold on, friends, let's get to the bottom of this!"
And starts asking intelligent questions with a silly look on their face. How could something as simple as a part not have been purchased? If it were a complicated part coming from Korea under sanctions, that would be one thing, but this is something that can be made in any garage. And production is halted because of it. How could this have happened?
Since our "idiot" is new on the job, they aren't sent away immediately. They attempt to explain, but it doesn't go well. The supply manager rambles on about how people are working in a multitasking mode, are constantly distracted, and the funds aren't coming through on time, resulting in a significant creditor situation that everything is hanging by a thread. It comes to the point where the production manager starts to defend them – seeing that this person is in an awkward position. Meanwhile, our idiot just sits there, batting their eyelashes, nodding their head, and asking new guiding questions. It helps open up the discussion.
As you can see, the primary goal of this interview is the director sitting there listening. He isn't used to hearing such conversations – it's not like they're arguing, and they're discussing routine processes, but from an unusual angle. Gradually, he becomes interested, as he himself hasn't asked such questions in a long time – since he became a patriot.
The situation repeats itself several times in various forms. Finally, our 'idiot' starts to annoy people – they stop justifying themselves and go on the offensive. Just as expected. The 'idiot' immediately raises his hands in surrender and tries to calm everyone down – saying something like, why are you attacking me, I just wanted to understand the causes of the problems. I'm with you, we're one team, blah blah blah. He throws out a few memorized phrases, like 'we need to talk openly about problems,' 'if the problem isn't addressed, it won't be solved,' etc. After such a diversion, he is almost always supported by the director.
And now he is almost ours, just one last step remains. The director starts to think that the 'idiot' understands something and can help solve the problems he himself uncovered. A normal sycophant would do just that, but we have a particularly dense sycophant here. The director calls him in for a chat and asks – dude, you're great, let's solve the factory's problems. I'm only ready to work with you; the others are sitting around, their tongues in their backsides, just worried about their own positions. But you, I see, fear no one and nothing, you can take on responsibility, I will give you a blank check.
The 'idiot' has turned the director against the rest of the 'patriots,' just as needed. Now he must fail. He takes on some short-term transformation project, not necessarily related to IT, and fails spectacularly. It has to be with a bang, noise, and smoke. There should be no impression that it was 'almost successful' — it has to be utterly disastrous.
Here, the equation fully shapes up. The director still remembers that there are a ton of problems in his factory. He still believes that the entire team comprises sycophants who don’t inform him of difficulties, hiding them under the rug. He still dreams of solving the problems. But he now realizes that no one at the factory will help him. Not even the 'idiot' – the IT director who helped him see the real picture. The most important thing is that the director remembers all the problems to the last one. Literally, he has a list written down in his notebook.
Naturally, he fires the 'idiot' – for his idiocy, of course. We lead him to this. Sometimes the director hesitates with the termination – then our 'idiot' plays the honorable role and leaves voluntarily – saying, I didn’t manage to do it, I don’t want to burden you anymore.
And here it is – the Moment. The director is approachable. This is when I come into the picture. I'll explain what I bring later. First, let's talk about the programmer.
Working with a factory programmer is not straightforward. They typically play one of three roles – the nerd, the aloof one, or the indifferent. The nerd is the one everyone yells at, always blamed for everything, does nothing, just hangs around. The aloof one has learned to show his teeth, so no one really bothers him, except for new managers, and he goes about his own business – like side jobs. The indifferent one does what he's told, even if it's complete nonsense.
The outcome is always the same: the programmer contributes nothing useful. The nerd might not even realize this – he's too busy. The aloof and indifferent ones quietly, and sometimes openly, laugh at the incoming tasks, yet they bring no benefit either. Programmers even take pride in this situation – claiming they are smart while everyone else is foolish, but they won’t say that to their faces.
What I need is a programmer; without one, the results will suffer. In the past, I took a simple approach – my 'idiot' would talk to him honestly, explaining my 'idiotic' mission. The results were disastrous – the programmer would expose the IT director. Mostly out of fear, to avoid keeping a secret that could later cost them. After a couple of failed attempts, I changed the approach for the 'idiots.'
Now they behaved even worse in front of the programmers than with fellow managers. Essentially, they presented themselves as even bigger fools, especially since that’s not difficult – the programmer is surely smart. Just slip up a few times with some nonsense about automation, programming code, refactoring, etc. Even better – start putting pressure on the programmer, create tight deadlines, external audits, shift blame onto him. Generate maximum hatred towards yourself.
I think you understand why. When things start heating up for the 'idiot,' the programmer is among the first to throw a stone at the drowning man. But while others just gloat, the programmer wants to trample the 'idiot' into the mud. And he reveals everything, thinking he's dishing out information as a parting gift.
He honestly talks about all the automation problems that the "idiot" failed to recognize. He lists all the interconnections of people that hinder the company's development – who is related to whom, who knows nothing, who sets the most ridiculous tasks and then doesn't use the results of the automation, etc. He spills everything with the sole aim of showing that he, the programmer, is smarter than the city’s IT director. One even wrote an article online.
All this happens before the "idiot" is fired, and then his moment arrives. There’s no time for reflection, and more importantly, there’s no reason for the programmer to divulge a secret since the IT director is leaving. The "idiot" honestly shares his mission – either in person or by letter. The one who wrote the article also received a response in the form of an article. It doesn’t matter to us how it’s done, but what matters is that the message gets across.
The message is simple: you, the programmer, are doing nonsense, whereas you could be doing real work. Come to us. We’ll arrange your relocation, rent you an apartment for a year, and pay you a decent salary in Moscow, higher than the city average.
And most importantly – you will automate the enterprise from which you were fired. But for much more money, in a team with experienced programmers, just like you, and with those same "idiots" who sometimes act as "saviors." So far, no programmer has turned it down.
After that, everything is simple. While the "idiot" was working at the factory – which was a maximum of half a year – we gathered all the necessary information about the enterprise's problems. We don’t need a copy of the information system or data – it’s enough to know the version of the system and a verbal description of the modifications made and the processes being executed.
While the "idiot" struggles, we are preparing the solution. As you have already understood, it’s not some abstract "we will solve all your problems," like other consultants do – it’s a specific, clear, contextual solution to the specific problems of the specific enterprise. Our experience and expertise allow us to do this very quickly.
If the factory faces issues with timely supply – and this is about 90% of our clients – we prepare and configure a special module for calculating needs. If the main problem is cash gaps, we set up a system for their timely detection and prevention. If the factory's pain point is overly long approvals, we provide a configured process controller equipped with an Iceberg, along with a motivation system that guarantees to eliminate process downtime. Importantly, it takes us only a few days to perform these tasks, no more. We don't spend six months fiddling with the code, as we know that the problems are mostly solved in the client's information system.
But we leave the cherry on top for the programmer. Usually, no more than a few days pass between their relocation to us and my meeting with the director. This period is enough for the programmer to integrate the company's information system with the frameworks we've prepared. Sometimes one day is sufficient, as our tools are abstract and integrate easily, and the programmer understands the specific system better than anyone.
This is where I come in. I write or call the director and request a meeting. I've never been refused, because I choose the right moment.
Now I'll try to explain this so that you understand. Each of you has seen contextual advertising on the internet. You probably have an approximate idea of how many people click on it. It's not difficult – remember how many times you clicked. The rest click roughly the same amount. Now think about when and on which ad you clicked.
Let's skip the cases when the advertised product isn’t needed, just because the banner was cool – that rarely happens. I don’t know about you, but I only click when a product that I specifically need at that moment is being advertised. A product without which I feel pain.
For example, I have a toothache. I've already taken the pills I usually use for pain, but they're not very effective. I can't go to the doctor right now for a number of reasons. And then I see an ad – pills that supposedly relieve tooth pain amazingly and also reduce inflammation. Yes, I understand that I saw this ad because I recently searched for similar information on the internet. But I don’t care because I have pain – and I click on the ad.
The same goes for factory directors. They are soft and warm because my "idiot" has caused them pain. He has reopened old wounds, which have festered under 'sour patriotism.' He has stirred them up with his idiotic, naive, but pointedly accurate questions. He has salted the wounds by taking on a change project and failing at it. The wound for the director is not just painful – it is bleeding, reminding him of its presence every minute.
Here I come out, like contextual advertising. Hello, dear so-and-so, my name is King, I'm from such-and-such company, and I can solve your problem with the supply of warehouse No. 7. Or your difficulties with cash gaps in government contracts. Or reduce the contract and documentation approval times from two weeks to one day. Do you understand?
I’m not Google; I don’t need to work with probabilities of hitting the problem. I hit not in the brow but in the eye. With specific positions, names, locations, figures, processes, products, etc. The effect is amazing.
Especially when I step away for half an hour to the IT department and then show the results on the factory's information system. Usually, more time is spent getting the director to log in – he never remembers his username and password since he hasn’t logged in since installation. And after that, he perceives everything as a miracle.
Of course, he asks where I got information about their problems. I say with wide eyes that it's from open sources. Your programmers asked on forums, supply staff consulted my acquaintances, and employees who were laid off shared during interviews at new workplaces, etc. There are plenty of places if you look.
But the main thing is that we have extensive experience solving problems for companies just like yours. Here, we can be honest and list specific factories along with the contact information of their directors. Often, the list includes acquaintances of his, and after a phone call, he won't be able to back out.
We launch change projects. Those so-called 'idiots' come in to lead them, but from different factories, so that there’s no need to sift through a pile of accumulated grievances against a specific person. The 'idiots' continually switch roles – one moment they’re dazed, the next they’re saving the factory. Resumes fill up quickly.
The essence of the project usually isn't about developing some kind of technology, like an IT system, but rather about implementation, i.e., restructuring processes, changing motivation, controlling new metrics, etc. Typically, it takes no more than six months, since we arrive with a ready system.
And when the job is done, we leave. Staying behind to extract money from the factory is not our method. The charge, the potential that we leave, is enough for the factory to enjoy several years of independent development. Of course, there will come a time when everything stalls, the swamp grows again, and pain resurfaces. But by then, not consultants, but a Gnome will be needed.
I'm curious, who is the Gnome at this factory? I would love to hear his version.
Source: habr.com
