An Incorrect Measure of Success

As a small business owner, customer acquisition is my biggest challenge. How do I make sure people can find me, understand what I do, and see how my services could help them?

In the early days of running my own business, I was thrilled to have clients who were willing to pay me to help them improve their business processes. I’d meet them at their facility, map out improvement opportunities, and aim to secure a paying engagement.

Sometimes, I’d get the purchase order. Other times, I wouldn’t. It was all on me. If I could paint a clear picture of how I could help, and it resonated with their needs, I’d land the job. If I couldn’t make that connection, the opportunity slipped away.

When I did win the business, I was ecstatic. It felt like a validation. People valued what I brought to the table. And if I did a good job on that first engagement, surely more work would follow. It didn’t always work that way.

I can still remember an engagement with a steel slag producer. Steel slag is the waste product from steel mills, repurposed for things like roadbeds and other construction uses. I facilitated a value stream mapping session to support their strategic planning process.

The team was extremely engaged. My sponsors seemed satisfied with the outcome. Although there were some challenging moments during the week, I thought we’d worked through them together and ended with a great result.

Surely, they’d bring me back. But they didn’t. I followed up multiple times—emails, phone calls, check-ins but got little to no response. The crickets were chirping.

That’s when I realized that acquisition is not the objective. Customer retention is the true measure of success. When you can align your approach to the needs of your client and design to fit their needs and not yours, there is a much better chance for continued collaboration.

Over the years, I’ve had my fair share of “one and done” clients. And while I’m grateful for those opportunities—and I’d like to think I helped them in a meaningful way—they’ve been some of my greatest learning moments.

Fortunately, I’ve also developed a few long-term client relationships. These are the ones where there’s alignment in approach, trust in the process, and a shared belief in the power of continuous improvement. These partnerships are where the real magic happens.

At the end of the day, quality beats quantity. If you focus on alignment, collaboration, and shared outcomes, you won’t just win business, you’ll build something that lasts.

Shining Like a Star

I love facilitating Kaizen events. They can be life-changing. Some team members grow so much over the course of a single week, it’s hard to believe they're the same person by Friday. This is the story of one such transformation, a moment that left people amazed.

Our team was working on a critical issue in the maintenance shop and support areas. It took over 20 minutes to find the parts, tools, or equipment needed for a repair. That might not sound like much, but when a maintenance technician has to go back and forth seven times for different tools or parts, the time adds up fast. It has a direct impact on equipment downtime.

We chartered and scoped the event to cover the inside maintenance shop, an upstairs storage area, a heavy-duty outdoor rack, and a shipping container (about 50 feet long) sitting on the pavement behind another building. Along with improving safety, our goal was to reduce "find time" by at least 75%, with a goal of 5 minutes or less.

The team consisted of four hourly maintenance technicians, their leader, my sponsor, an engineer, a maintenance planner, and the HR leader.

We kicked off bright and early at 6 a.m. Monday, which was the team’s normal shift start. They were quiet, skeptical, and clearly not ready for what was about to happen. I brought the energy, and a few of them perked up a bit during our Lean and 5S overview. We would be utilizing 5S (Sort, Set in Order, Shine, Standardize, Sustain) as the approach to meet our goals.

During our Gemba walk, everyone was jotting down ideas on Post-its. The spaces were packed with clutter. I could already tell we’d hit our goals easily, but the team wasn’t so sure—they were still stuck in their current state mindset.

When we walked out to the shipping container, I noticed Steve, one of the mechanics and a big, strong guy, writing furiously.

Me: “Steve, looks like you’ve got a lot to say about this container. What’s on your mind?”

Steve: “Adam, I’m in here all the time—sometimes at night, in the rain. Look at me—I sweat just walking in during summer. And it’s pitch black at night. I can’t see anything.”

Me: “What are you usually looking for?”

Steve: “PVC parts. There are thousands of them. They’re all mixed up. Sometimes it takes me hours to find what I need.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. Some of these parts were barely an inch long, mixed in boxes with all kinds of unrelated items. I wasn’t sure why they were even stored outside, but I hoped we could fix that.

After our walk, we got together to share improvement ideas. Our first step was Sort. We broke the team into three groups: one for the shop, one for the upstairs storage area, and one for the shipping container.

I volunteered for container duty. Most folks were happy to avoid it. The weather was cold but clear. The engineer joined me, and we got direction from Steve and the maintenance lead on what to toss and what had to be kept.

We filled two dumpsters with obsolete filters. It turns out a vendor handled all filter replacements now with their products. This was an easy win.

Next, we tackled the PVC parts. We loaded them onto carts and brought them inside. It was a job that took the remainder of Day 1 and part of Day 2.

Steve couldn’t believe we were actually following through on this. He started to envision a setup with labeled bins in the upstairs storage area. That night, he volunteered to present our progress update. When he stood up in front of the group, jaws dropped.

Apparently, Steve never spoke in meetings or even said much to his coworkers. He was friendly and hardworking, but mostly kept to himself. No one remembered him speaking in front of a group during his time at the plant.

The rest of the week, the transformation continued. Steve was laughing, cracking jokes, and fully engaged in every discussion. He found his spark.

By Friday, the container had been repurposed for outdoor equipment. Signage was clear and easy to follow. All the PVC parts were inside, organized, and labeled in bins. We did a test with six people who didn’t know the space, and their average "find time" was under three minutes.

During our final report-out, Steve shared what the changes meant to him. “I don’t have to go out in the dark, in bad weather, and dig around. I know exactly where everything is now. We need to do this in other places, too.”

Steve and the rest of his team will never look at clutter or wasted time the same way again. His growth didn’t just help the team, it made a difference for him personally. And that’s what Kaizen should be all about.

Value for the Customer

I’ve been helping a leading consumer brand company through their Lean journey since I started my business over six years ago. These days, they’re mostly independent. They don’t call me unless the topic is complex, strategic, or I help them see a major opportunity they hadn’t noticed.

About a year into their journey, they rolled out daily Gemba walks, which they call "Board Walks." These walks got leaders out of their offices, connecting with the people doing the work, surfacing issues, and strengthening engagement and alignment across the organization.

For a few years, these Board Walks looked the same across every location: a group of managers would visit a manufacturing line, listen to an operator or mechanic report on the past 24 hours, ask a few questions, and move on to the next area. It was a start, but something critical seemed to be missing.

I spoke to contacts at several locations about the current state of their Board Walks and what the next level could look like. One local contact told me his plant manager didn’t want to change anything, he was happy with the results and approach.

But another contact, who I’d worked closely with before, called to share his frustration. He knew they had made progress but couldn’t seem to reach the next level of performance.

We talked about the Board Walks and confirmed they hadn’t changed since they started. I suggested we run a Kaizen event focused on making those walks more effective, with the goal of improving safety and productivity.

He was intrigued. I told him I’d seen this work before at an Armstrong plant, where we’d redesigned the Gemba walks to serve our true customers: hourly production operators and mechanics. It resulted in an immediate improvement to safety and productivity.

It took nearly a year of conversations to gain enough momentum and alignment. Eventually, we got support for the Kaizen and invited representatives from four plants, with the intent that they’d take the results back home.

We kicked things off early Tuesday morning. Everyone aligned on the charter and objectives. I had hoped for more hourly participation, but we had one production operator and one maintenance technician on the team. Luckily, they were well chosen.

At 8 a.m., we joined the daily Board Walk and took notes. Everyone was scribbling on Post-its, so I expected a decent mix of observations.

Back in the meeting room, the team shared their ideas. There were plenty of suggestions, but something was missing. It didn’t feel like we had touched the core issue of customer value and engagement. I pivoted and started asking more pointed questions.

I asked, “Who is the Board Walk for?”

The manufacturing manager quickly responded, “It’s for the operators and mechanics, of course.”

Then the operator on our team spoke up. “For us? I always thought it was for management. The Board Walk does nothing for me.” That was the turning point. There were many shocked team members in the room.

We created a Current State Value Stream Map of the Board Walk, identifying every step and evaluating which ones added value from the operator’s perspective. The results were clear and painful. None of the steps provided value for the actual frontline team members.

That created a realization that the Board Walk had to be redesigned to deliver true value to the customers. Now, it became apparent what the improvement priorities would be. Any changes must improve the customer experience.

The team selected three areas to focus on: the agenda, the ground rules, and the follow-up process. During the week, they trialed these changes on one production line.

The biggest shifts in design were:

1.      A smaller, dedicated group focused on that area.

2.      The discussion shifted to what needed to happen in the next 24 hours, not just rehashing the past.

3.      Critical issues that came up would receive rapid follow-up and clear feedback.

The results were immediate. Operators felt heard. Managers were more focused. The Board Walks started to serve their true customer. Alignment and engagement skyrocketed.

Two months later, the new process had been rolled out to every line in the host plant. And at least one of the visiting sites took it back and implemented it with similar success.

This is the kind of transformation that happens when we pause to ask the right question and are willing to listen to the answer.

Does Continuous Improvement Work Have to Be Industry-Specific? You Decide.

I often meet people who are interested in the work I do, and sometimes, these conversations turn into future business opportunities. One statement I hear quite frequently goes something like this: “I see you’ve made great strides working with manufacturers in [insert industry here]. But we’re different, so I want to know what experience you have in my industry.”

Most of the time, I have to tell them that I don’t have direct experience in their industry. I know that’s not the answer they’re hoping for, so I explain that many of the principles I use are applicable across industries and situations.

The first principle I rely on is that people want to win. If there’s a problem affecting them, they want to solve it—they don’t want to be adversely impacted by it. I tap into this natural desire to win and facilitate the team toward success by engaging them and building a team-based approach to problem-solving.

All the work I do before, during, and after Kaizen events is designed to set teams up for success. I create plans tailored to tackle the specific challenges they’re facing. I also design activities and experiences that allow team members to participate, share their ideas, and take ownership of the solutions. To me, that’s the essence of winning.

Another principle I follow is that all industries involve processes that require people. As long as the team can map out the processes they’re working with and identify the waste, they have the potential to make meaningful changes. My job is to help them spot that waste and equip them with the tools and techniques to reduce or eliminate it.

My third principle is that people will always rise to the expectations we set for them. Throughout my Kaizen events, I aim to set the bar as high as possible for the team, and they almost always meet or exceed those expectations. When they do, I raise the bar even higher, and, unsurprisingly, they rise to the occasion once again.

There are many other principles I use, but in my experience, these three are enough to allow me to work effectively in any industry—no matter the complexity or my prior experience with it.

I’ll admit that I’ve missed some opportunities to help prospects just because I haven’t worked in their specific industry. But I also believe they’ve missed out on the chance to work with me and see how I could help their teams solve critical business problems in a sustainable way.

My best advice to anyone considering hiring outside help to solve critical business problems is this: rather than focusing solely on past experience, consider the approach. Make sure it fits with—and enhances—your people engagement goals and leadership style.

Hope is a Precious Commodity

In a previous story, I described how a strategy session for a building products company led to several reliability improvement Kaizen events. This story focuses on one of those events in Mississippi.

I’m passionate about helping teams improve the reliability of their processes, using basic yet effective techniques to immediately boost the performance of their manufacturing lines. The best part is that the team can see and feel the results, and the techniques I teach are easy to learn and transferable to other lines and processes within the facility.

I flew into Memphis early on a Sunday morning, with no plant commitments until the afternoon, so I decided to tour Graceland and learn more about Elvis Presley. Although I wasn’t a fan before the visit, I gained a lot of respect for the man, his philanthropic efforts, and his impressive cars and eccentric outfits. It was quite the experience.

Afterwards, I met my contact at the plant, and we set up the meeting room for the upcoming week. He mentioned that many of the team members were hourly operators and mechanics who were skeptical about what could be achieved, and whether their voices would truly be heard. We walked through the plant, and he showed me the line we would be working on. Based on what I saw, I was confident we could make a real difference and engage the team in a way that would be meaningful to them.

On Monday morning, we kicked off the session with safety expectations, introductions, a charter review, and an overview of Lean and reliability principles. I quickly learned that most of the team members had no prior experience with Lean or Kaizen, so I had to start with the basics. This typically takes about 2 to 3 hours, and I present it using PowerPoint and activities. I know that people aren’t always excited about slides, but in my experience, some foundational understanding is necessary before we take our Gemba Walk. It used to take a full day, so I think I’ve gotten more efficient at it.

During the Gemba Walk, the team members were able to connect the reliability concepts I was teaching them to the issues on the line. If they were unsure about something, I could point out specific opportunities for improvement.

Back in the meeting room, we identified and prioritized the areas we would focus on. We broke into three sub-teams, and I worked with two mechanics and an operator to begin with the most basic tasks: centerlining and leveling the equipment.

They were shocked to see how much of the equipment was misaligned and out of level. The good news is that by the second morning, everything had been leveled and centered. The better news was that when we restarted the line, it ran better than anyone could remember.

Excitement began to fill the team, and improvements were happening across the board. By Wednesday, Jake, a mechanic who had been with the plant for over 20 years and was initially skeptical, came up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, “Adam, you messed up (not exactly what he said, but you get the idea)! You gave me hope!”

I told him, “I’d like to say I’m sorry, but I’m not! Now that you know what’s possible, your job is to share it with your coworkers on the other lines!”

The rest of the week flew by, and by Friday, we had achieved something we were all proud of. The difference between this line and the others in the plant was striking. Now, the only thing shutting the line down was planned maintenance.

Jake took on the role of Area Owner, proudly holding himself and others accountable for following all of the reliability and safety requirements on the line. During a recent visit to the plant, he even demonstrated the principles of reliability to my original sponsor, the vice president of manufacturing.

Skepticism had been replaced by optimism, and the plant has already begun transferring what they learned to other lines. Before long, they should have all of their lines operating at higher reliability levels.

Simpler is Safer, Lighter, and Better

I was in Florida, working with a residential building products manufacturer on our second Kaizen event together. This time, we focused on improving materials delivery to the production lines. The tasks were challenging, physically demanding, and slow, leading to high turnover in the material handling position.

Our ultimate goal was to make the job safer and easier, reducing turnover and its associated costs while boosting employee satisfaction across the organization.

We started the week with a Lean Principles workshop, followed by a Gemba Walk to observe the current processes. The good news? There were plenty of opportunities for improvement. The better news? Together, we’d brainstorm and implement solutions to reduce waste and achieve our goals.

The team divided into three sub-teams, each focusing on a specific area:

1. Delivery and loading of granular materials to the line

2. Organization of raw materials

3. Delivery and loading of rolled materials to the line

Granular Materials Team

This team observed workers shoveling materials into buckets, carrying them up a ladder, and pouring them into bins for processing—a labor-intensive and risky process. Could it be automated?

With creativity, quick thinking, and the repurposing of existing equipment, they modified a shop vacuum to draw materials directly from containers into the bins. They added a simple sensor to stop the vacuum when the bin was full and another to alert the operator when it was time to restart.

Organization Team

Using spaghetti diagrams, they mapped operator movements during daily tasks. The diagrams revealed a chaotic system: materials were stored wherever space was available, with no clear organization.

By rearranging the workspace, they created a visual and logical storage system, reducing unnecessary movement by over 75%.

Rolled Materials Team

This group tackled three main issues:

1. Placing rolls on a carrier

2. Placing the carrier on the production line’s framework

3. Moving and removing rolls when empty

To address the first issue, they replaced the heavy, cumbersome threaded rod and collar system with a smooth rod and spring clamps, similar to those used in weightlifting. This eliminated the time-consuming process of centering the roll and screwing collars into place. It also removed the need for heavy end plates, reducing the roll’s weight by over 10 pounds.

For the second and third issues, eliminating the end plates allowed them to redesign the system. They replaced the cradles on the framework with pinned locations, enabling rolls to slide directly into place and be securely pinned. This made centering effortless and eliminated the need to lift rolls over cradle points.

The Results

By the end of the event, every team had developed solutions that made the work safer, simpler, and more efficient. Even better, the changes were cost-effective and could be easily replicated across other lines in the facility.

Early feedback has been overwhelmingly positive. Employees report higher satisfaction and engagement, and we anticipate this will lead to significantly lower turnover in the material handling role.

Sometimes, the simplest solutions really are the best.

Know Your Niche

As a Kaizen Ninja, I like to believe I can help any team solve any problem. Maybe I can, maybe I can’t—but believing it was causing me to dilute my message to my target audience. Let’s face it: no one believes you can be all things to all people.

While I’ve helped businesses across many industries tackle a variety of problems, my message wasn’t resonating with the people I truly wanted to reach. It wasn’t until I came across The One Page Marketing Plan by Allan Dib that I realized the issue. Dib makes a compelling case for knowing your niche and target market. Without that clarity, it’s impossible to craft a message that will attract the right people.

I had to dig deep and figure out who I really wanted to help. It didn’t take long to land on an answer that, in hindsight, should have been obvious: I was built to help manufacturing companies.

But not just any manufacturing companies. Running a Kaizen event requires team members to dedicate 100% of their time and energy to solving a critical business problem in a sustainable way. For smaller companies, pulling key people off their regular jobs for several days can be a dealbreaker. The business might grind to a halt.

The sweet spot? Manufacturing companies with at least 50 employees. These companies typically have enough resources to pull six or more people from their daily roles without shutting everything down. With proper planning, resources can be covered through overtime or other adjustments, making it feasible for the team to focus entirely on the Kaizen process.

This realization was a game-changer. While I’ve facilitated successful Kaizen events in non-manufacturing settings, the immediate, tangible results from manufacturing events are hard to beat. On the factory floor, you can literally see the impact:

• Lines run more smoothly.

• Tasks require less effort.

• Employee feedback is positive and immediate.

There’s something uniquely gratifying about helping people in ways they can see and feel right away. That’s why I’ve honed my focus on manufacturing companies with more than 50 employees. When I visit, I can provide clear, specific examples of where I can help and the results they can expect using my Kaizen approach:

• Safety risks reduced by more than 50%.

• Changeover times cut by more than 50%.

• Productivity increased by at least 5%.

• Costs reduced.

• Quality and customer satisfaction improved.

Even better, I can share real success stories from other manufacturing teams and show how I use the Wheel of Sustainability to ensure those results last.

From time to time, I still get inquiries from non-manufacturing prospects. I’m happy to help them if there’s a good fit, but they’re no longer my target audience. I don’t actively market to them or invest extra effort trying to get their attention.

This approach has made me more focused and intentional, and for that, I’m incredibly grateful to Allan Dib and his team. Their insights helped me find—and fully embrace—my niche.

Creative Problem Solving Happens at Any Age

Problems are everywhere. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and give up, thinking there are more problems than solutions. While it’s true we can’t solve everything—and some things are simply out of our control—my advice is to focus on the problems you can solve and be willing to experiment until you get the results you’re looking for.

If you have small children, once had small children, or were a child yourself, you know they approach problem-solving in their own way. Want to build a fort but lack proper materials? A sofa and a bedsheet—BOOM—instant fort. Scribble wildly with crayons and declare it’s the solar system? Why not?

Growing up, my parents encouraged me to experiment and try things. My father was a patent examiner, and he often shared stories about the inventions he reviewed. He was also an inventor himself. Most of the time, I thought his ideas were silly, but that didn’t stop him from coming up with new ways to solve old problems.

We had a blue 1965 Dodge station wagon (yes, I’m that old). This was before seatbelt laws, and it wasn’t unusual for kids to stand up in the back seat to get a better view of the road. Honestly, it’s amazing we survived. We used the station wagon for family trips, with Mom and Dad in the front seats and my brother and me in the back. Dad had put foam mats back there to “protect” us from the road’s bumps and potholes.

Cars in those days were noisy, and it was hard to communicate from the back to the front. My brother and I, being little boys, spent most of the ride fighting, playing, and constantly needing something: snacks, drinks, bathroom breaks, or help breaking up fights. Mom and Dad couldn’t hear us over the road noise, so Dad decided to invent a solution.

After a few failed attempts, he cut a long vacuum hose down to an eight-foot length and ran it from the back of the wagon to the front seat. If we needed something, we’d speak into the hose, and Mom or Dad could (hopefully) hear us. Amazingly, it worked. For years, we had a cutting-edge communication system that no other car—or wagon—could match.

Eventually, cars got quieter, and the need for the hose disappeared. More likely, we got too big to ride in the back of the wagon, or someone finally realized tossing two boys into the back of a car without restraints wasn’t the best idea.

These days, when I facilitate Kaizen events, I encourage my team members to think like kids: try new things, embrace curiosity, and don’t be discouraged if an idea doesn’t work on the first try. There’s always something to learn, and often, they solve problems no one else has been able to tackle. Who knows? Maybe they’ll even come up with the next advanced communication system.

A Good Story Provides a Good Opportunity

I’ve always been a storyteller. Some people enjoy my stories, while others wish I’d get to the point faster. I get it—my approach isn’t for everyone. But storytelling is how I communicate my ideas. Sometimes, it even helps me get my way or stumble into an interesting adventure. Here’s one of those adventures.

I was working with a team on a project at Armstrong’s St. Helens, Oregon, plant. Our goal was to reduce changeover time across the facility using Lean techniques and some capital investments. Things were going well, but the project required the team to spend many weeks away from home.

When you travel a lot, routines develop—familiar hotels, restaurants, bars, and, of course, the facility you’re helping. But sometimes, you just want to break out of that routine. One trip, we flew into the Seattle airport, arriving midday, and didn’t need to be at the plant until the next morning.

Someone suggested dining at the Space Needle, about 30 minutes away. It seemed like a great idea, even though we didn’t have reservations. Fueled by a spirit of adventure, we decided to drive over and see if we could talk our way into a table.

On the way, we tracked down the phone number and called to see if there were any openings. Unsurprisingly, dinner was fully booked. But we weren’t deterred.

I decided to try my hand at persuasion. I told the host a bit of a half-truth: “We’ve just arrived in Seattle, traveling all the way from Pennsylvania specifically to dine at the Space Needle. Isn’t there any way you could find seating for four people who have always dreamed of dining with you?”

To my surprise, the response was warm and accommodating: “Of course we can. You’ve come all this way; we’d hate for you to be disappointed.” Thrilled, I asked for a contact name so we could personally thank them when we arrived.

Thirty minutes later, we walked into the Space Needle, where it seemed everyone knew about “the four travelers from Pennsylvania.” They were impressed that we had flown 3,000 miles just for dinner.

We stuck to our story the entire evening and soaked in the experience. The dinner was fantastic, the views from 500 feet above Seattle were stunning, and it became a memory we’d treasure for years.

As a bonus, the experience brought our team closer. We worked together more cohesively, and we started seeking out new adventures to share throughout the project.

These days, I encourage my Kaizen teams to create shared experiences during event weeks. Whether it’s through solving problems together, team dinners, or happy hours, I’ve noticed these moments rapidly build engagement and camaraderie.

I wouldn’t necessarily recommend stretching the truth often, but this felt like a victimless crime—unless someone lost their reservation because of “four travelers from Pennsylvania.” If that’s you, this story never happened!

What do you do when you’re the Industry Leader – you Improve!

Armstrong World Industries is the global leader in suspended ceilings. That might not seem like much to you, but when you sell over a billion square feet of ceiling tile and the grid to suspend it every year, you’re making a big impact in the construction and housing market.

One of the things that sets Armstrong apart is innovation and forward thinking in all of the things they do. Although other competitors are trying to influence building codes, Armstrong has the strongest presence and is leading the way in making sure office and other spaces are the healthiest, most energy efficient, and quietest they can be.

Paul, the head of codes and standards, was a big fan of my support to other areas of the technology department. We had many conversations on how Lean was helping his colleagues improve their processes and we often wondered how I could support his team’s efforts.

One day, we were talking about codes and standards and how Armstrong’s competitors were making inroads influencing the critical changes for building health and safety. Paul said it seemed Armstrong was losing its leadership position. People were participating on committees and submitting white papers, but weren’t moving the needle in the right direction. He felt we needed a breakthrough to retake our leadership position.

We both realized, almost at the same time, a strategy session could help drive the changes that would maintain our leadership presence. We agreed a Value Stream Mapping (VSM) session was the approach to take.

We plotted and planned. We chartered the event. We invited critical team members, including our internal customers, Sales and Marketing, manufacturing plant representatives, selected engineers and scientists, and members of Paul’s staff.

Our CEO kicked off the event and gave his support to the team. He told us what we were doing would be vital to the successful future for the company. No pressure at all! The team was enthusiastic and energized. But many of them wondered how using Value Stream Mapping would help them create a future that was any different than the path they were on.

There are two critical moments in any VSM event. The first is when you take a Gemba Walk (going to see) through your process. During this walk, the team saw many aspects of the current process that were overly complex and had opportunities for improvement. Many ideas were written down and shared.

The second critical moment happened when the team visibly mapped the current state process on a wall. There were so many steps and delays. There was waste and opportunity beyond anything they had imagined. Now that they could see it, they could do something about it. The ideas flowed even faster. There were so many things within the control of the team, and they prioritized the ideas they thought would make the most difference and could be implemented.

We built plans to attack the most impactful opportunities to drive codes and standards leadership. By the end of the week, we had a roadmap to distance ourselves from our competitors. Everybody won, as the changes would strengthen the health and safety of everyone who inhabits the office, school, and other business spaces. And, because of the alignment of the team and their sponsors, their customers would receive those benefits quickly.

My first VSM for a non-manufacturing process

I applied Lean thinking exclusively to manufacturing processes for many years of my career. I wasn’t able to stretch my thinking beyond what I could see – the production of a physical product and how it impacts the customer, business, and employees. I conducted Value Stream Mapping (VSM – a strategic planning approach based on the view of the customer) sessions for many  manufacturing facilities and we were able to identify countless opportunities to significantly improve safety, productivity, quality, and customer service. I developed a reputation for my ability to engage teams and facilitate complex sessions.

I was approached by Henry, a coworker, to see if I would be willing to use my VSM approach and apply it to his marketing department. This was an intriguing request and a risky one. He had a strong Lean background and the vision to take what he learned beyond the manufacturing arena. I told him that if he was willing to take a chance, then so was I.

I took a session plan for a manufacturing VSM session and started tinkering with it to make it apply to a non-manufacturing process. It didn’t take long to realize the approach didn’t have to change much. The challenge was to help the team visualize their process in a way that would expose the waste, pain, and opportunities for improvement.

During a typical VSM, we take a Gemba walk of the process, to go and see what’s happening and what gets in the way of delivering for the customer. For the marketing department, the process wasn’t something we could easily see. How would I deal with that, I wondered. I talked it through with Henry and we bounced many ideas back and forth.

Then one of us (I’d like to say it was me, but I really don’t remember) suggested we didn’t have to physically see the process in order to visualize it. We had the experts in the room who knew what role they played in the overall process. We could have them talk us through their part, map it on a wall, and then visualize the entire process once all the experts had their say. As long as we started with the customer and worked our way back to the beginning, we could find the waste, pain points, and opportunities.

This was a brilliant revelation. Now the true test was to try it out in a real situation. And that’s what we did. The team engaged and gave their all. We visualized the current state of the marketing process and identified many wastes, pain points, and opportunities to provide an improved customer experience.

My mind opened to the possibilities. I could now apply Lean principles and Kaizen events to any process, not just manufacturing. Through the years, I learned the benefits in non-manufacturing settings can be multiples of manufacturing processes, as most groups haven’t pursued Lean thinking in these settings. There is so much opportunity it’s almost too easy to provide a winning experience for the teams I support.

I now apply VSM visualization to any process teams are trying to improve. It generates many “a-ha” moments and I often get comments like, “I didn’t realize our process was so complex. Now, by seeing it, I know what to do about it.” I recommend using Lean and VSM when you’re improving a process. You’ll be glad you did.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help

I had many stops in my corporate career. I worked in furniture, ceiling grid, ceiling tile, ceramic tile, and vinyl flooring all over the world. My most challenging assignment was working for Dal-Tile in Dallas Texas. I was the environmental, health, safety, mining, and industrial engineering liaison for the twelve manufacturing locations around the country.

It was challenging for many reasons, not the least of which was the negative environmental history Dal-Tile had in the state of Texas. In the 1980’s, they were given the highest environmental fine in the history of the state. The next reason was I had no background in environmental, health, and safety (EHS). The final reason was that the corporate EHS department didn’t want to help me, my boss, or the facilities with compliance. It was an extremely difficult situation to navigate.

My boss and I decided to tour all of the plants, establish relationships with their staff, and identify areas where we could help. Most of our visits started out the same way. Plant leadership would be wary of us, having been “burned” by the corporate EHS staff in the past. Once we showed we were genuinely interested in helping them stay compliant, they warmed to us and let us see the critical issues they were facing. Wayne, my boss, was exceptionally adept at getting people to warm to us. He was a true gentleman who cared about the people he served.

We realized we needed to understand the various rules and regulations governing the plants, especially in Texas. Instead of reading many books, we decided to travel to seminars hosted by OSHA and the EPA. I was in Austin Texas at an EPA seminar when the presenter asked each of us our names and who we worked for. When I introduced myself from Dal-Tile, the room fell silent. I felt a bit embarrassed, so I blurted out, “but we’re trying to get better!”

At a break, another participant introduced himself to me and told me he used to work for Dal-Tile many years before. He said, “don’t feel bad, when I used to go to seminars, they used to hold up the front page of the Dallas Morning News that showed the headline, ‘Dal-Tile fined millions for environmental transgressions.’ Then, they’d say, ‘don’t let this happen to you.’ They’d go around the room with introductions and I’d get booed!” I felt bad for him and me too, but I was resolute in my belief we could do better and improve the company’s reputation, even with all of the obstacles from the past.

After many more seminars, research, and building relationships with plant leadership, I started to get pulled in to help plants resolve environmental issues and even prevent them. This was a breakthrough.

One day, Al, the Dallas plant manager, called me and asked for my help. I went to the plant to find out what was going on. He showed me a letter saying they were being fined for too much zinc in the wastewater. We walked the inside process to see where the zinc could be coming from. In raw material form, there was less zinc in the product than they were being fined for.

We walked outside to look at the water that was being treated before going into the drains. It looked clear and had no debris in it. The EPA testing point was about 100 yards from the outflow point and the treatment process. Somehow zinc had to be entering the water between the treatment process and the testing point. Where could it be coming from, I wondered?

Then, I saw it. The fence separating our property from the factory next door was shiny for most of its surface, except for a 50-yard length that was a dark brown. It was a drastic difference. Al told me that the neighbor was an electroplating company and they always turned off their smokestacks whenever they were being inspected by the EPA.

I knew what I had to do. I would invite the EPA to visit the plant and help us solve our “zinc problem.” When I shared my idea, Al looked worried. I said, “Al, do you trust me?” He said, “you haven’t let me down yet. Don’t let me down this time!”

I scheduled a visit from the EPA for two weeks from our conversation and they seemed surprised that someone from Dal-Tile would invite them to the plant to help resolve an issue. I guess they were used to defensiveness, rather than cooperation. This gave us time to get everything in the plant in the best possible condition and find all of the materials information that might be requested during the visit.

Edward, the EPA inspector, joined me and met the leadership team early in the morning. I took him on an inside plant tour, showing him all of the possible locations where zinc could be coming from. He agreed with me it was highly unlikely our materials were causing the unusually high zinc levels in the wastewater.

Taking his cue, I took him outside to the wastewater treatment process and showed him how clear the water was. He agreed it didn’t make sense to have high zinc in the water. I then asked him if he could help me clear up a mystery. He seemed intrigued. I showed him the fence, with the shiny and brown areas and asked him what could be causing it? He looked at the fence, then saw the neighboring factory. Once the realization of what was happening hit him, he told me, “Adam, the zinc isn’t coming from your plant. I’ll rescind the fine and the EPA will deal with the real cause of the problem.”

Relieved, I thanked him for his help. I found Al and told him what had happened. Al responded, “Adam, you had me worried, but I was hopeful you would pull it off.” Al then invited me to have a beer with him and it was the coldest and tastiest one I ever had.

Raising the bar for quality

Armstrong World Industries and Worthington Steel combined forces to create the number one ceiling grid manufacturer in the world. It didn’t start out that way, as employees of both companies were feeling their way through the combination of cultures.

I had been a team manager (shift supervisor) at our plant near Chicago. We shut down the plant and I moved to the Baltimore facility as the Industrial Engineering and Quality manager. It was a critical moment for our new company and my career. We had to establish ourselves as a quality leader, in order to build consumer confidence.

I spent many hours on the factory floor, understanding where we stood in regard to production reliability and quality control. We had each line leader measuring the grid that was being produced and comparing it to  product standard drawings. My early observations were that each person was interpreting the drawings differently and also measured based on their “feel” for the product. This meant somebody might think a product was within tolerance limits, even though the customer didn’t agree. This was reflected in a higher than industry standard return rate. We were at risk of losing customers unless we corrected our quality problems quickly.

I reviewed the product quality drawings and realized they were confusing and written for engineers, not production workers. Also, depending on how hard the measuring device was handled, people could make their measurements vary by up to .020” (twenty thousandths of an inch). This was a huge problem for ceiling grid, as tolerances could be as small as .010”.

I reviewed my plan with the plant manager. I would reformat the product quality drawings so they would be easy to understand and interpret as intended. At the same time, I would develop a measurement training program to help all employees measure the same way, with the same “feel.” I got approval for new measuring equipment, that was more repeatable and accurate than what we currently had at the plant. I was off and running.

I did an informal survey of many of the production technicians to help me understand how to format the product quality drawings to be easily understood by them. Specifically, I wanted them to understand the tolerance limits for any critical measurement. Previously, an example measurement would say 24.025” +/- 0.15”. This forced employees to add and subtract and sometimes make errors. Through their feedback, I changed all measurements to look like this (for the prior example): 24.010” – 24.040”. Now there was no confusion. As long as the measurement was within the range shown, it was a good product.

There were literally dozens, if not hundreds of drawings to correct, so I prioritized my work by the products that ran the most frequently first. Then, time permitting, I would correct the lower frequency products. Sometimes, I would have to change my process, as a rare product would be ordered, and we didn’t want to take the chance it would be measured incorrectly.

Now it was time to improve measurement reliability. Some people had a “hard” hand, meaning they would squeeze the measuring device against the bar of grid with much force. Others had a “soft” touch, meaning they barely touched the bar with the measuring device. I had to come up with another way to consistently find the correct measurement and then verify the variation between operators would be acceptable.

After many tests and trials, I developed the 2-step touch technique. Basically, the technician would squeeze the measuring device to find the bar, then back it off, and then bring it back to just “touch.”

No matter how hard or soft a hand people had, they were very consistent when it came to the second touch. In fact, the variation between operators was reduced from .020” to .003”. I instituted an audit and follow-up process to ensure we sustained our consistent measuring technique.

Over time our returns rate was reduced drastically, and we became the number one grid producer in the world. I learned that systems must be designed for the people who use them, rather than the people who create them.

Never tell someone their baby’s ugly

I have been influenced by many pop-culture references over the years. During my Kaizen events, words or phrases come out of my mouth that are my attempt to make the situation relatable to the team and make them feel better about the situation they’re in and the problem they’re facing. I want them to realize it’s not the first time something bad happened in business and their problems aren’t insurmountable. I wasn’t always this way – maybe you can learn from my mistakes!

Many years ago, I was taking a Gemba walk with a team from Armstrong’s Pensacola plant. During the walk, I saw build-up, dirt, and clutter on and around the production equipment. It really bothered me and I said out loud, “we should be ashamed of the way we are maintaining and operating our equipment.” I was immediately taken off to the side by the plant Lean manager and told I shouldn’t say these things out loud. I, of course, got respectfully defensive. Not really. I said, “Look at the state of the equipment. What does it say about how we feel about our employees, by setting such a bad example of leadership expectations?”

That didn’t sit well, and he walked me to the Plant Manager’s office. We had a mostly one-sided conversation. I was told I needed to watch my words and not make people feel bad about their working conditions. It wasn’t productive and brought down the mood of the team.

To this day, I still feel the same way about difficult working conditions, but I don’t speak my feelings out loudin front of the team. Instead, I think about how to get them to see their situation as unacceptable and motivate them to do something about it.

I am reminded of one of my favorite Seinfeld episodes, “The Hamptons.” The gang (Jerry, George, Kramer, and Elaine) goes to the Hamptons to see the new baby of their mutual friends, Carol and Michael. The baby is so ugly that upon seeing him, Kramer does an exaggerated double-take and says the little girl looks like Lyndon Johnson, who wasn’t attractive. The rest of the episode is about the gang trying to not make the parents feel bad about their baby. Hilarious, but it shares a parallel with my approach to improvement teams.

I want my team to see their baby, their process, as ugly, and then do something to it to make it beautiful. The way I do it now is to show an outrageous photo from the internet (there are so many of them) of a group of people doing something obviously unsafe. When I show the photo, I have the team members describe the safety risks they see. There are obvious ones, such as don’t put a ladder on top of another ladder  on the forks of a forklift, in order to change a light bulb  thirty feet in the air.

After they laugh at the absurdity of the photo (many of these are real situations), I point out the people doing the work think what they’re doing is ok and if we were to tell them we think it’s unsafe, they would probably run us off or worse. Then I tell the story of the Seinfeld episode and make the analogy that we can’t call the baby “ugly.” Once we make that connection, I tell them by the end of the Kaizen event, we will see our original process as the “ugly baby” and our job is to turn it into something beautiful we can be proud of.

This approach has improved the alignment and engagement of the team and has kept me from making my team members feel bad about their processes. By the end of the week, they’re talking about how they made their baby a beauty to behold and they own the changes that made that transformation.

You can’t help people if you don’t build trust

Right before the pandemic, I was asked to conduct a site assessment by one of my clients. The twist here is that it wasn’t for one of their own plants. Rather, they wanted me to assist one of their key suppliers, who was a co-packer (someone who packages and labels products for its clients and sometimes manufactures products using the clients’ brand). I should have seen the warning signs sooner.

The evening before the assessment, I attended dinner with a team from my client’s company. We had a good discussion about how the next day would go, but I got a vibe that they were skeptical of my ability to assist their vendor. My sponsor hadn’t traveled with the rest of the team.

The next morning, we met with the vendor in their conference room. I waited for my client to start the meeting, but they decided I should do it. I jumped right in, made introductions, and described my site assessment process. We would talk about any current or critical issues they were experiencing, then take a Gemba walk to see the process and the issues as they were occurring. Finally, I would share my findings and explain how I could help resolve any of the issues.

The vendor team didn’t look thrilled to have visitor(s) they didn’t know, and spoke about their issues in a vague way. Then, they reluctantly assigned two team members to walk around the plant with me: the plant manager and an engineer. One of the client’s team members joined us for most of the tour.

As we walked around the plant, I tried to point out helpful improvements that could be implemented without outside assistance. For example, there was a production line where the technician would grab completed packages and stack them on a pallet on the floor. This forced him to bend over every time and put his back at risk. I shared images of a spring-loaded pallet-lift, that could be installed for under $10,000 and would eliminate the need to bend over, as the lift would come up to a safe height for stacking and then lower naturally as the stacks got bigger.

After a few more examples, my tour guides opened up and showed me the most critical issues they were facing. I felt I could help with many of those issues, and they seemed to like my approach. We built a nice rapport and even traded business cards.

When the tour was over, we reconvened in the conference room and shared a light lunch. I was asked about my findings and described the top three issues where I could help. The team was more engaged than earlier in the morning, but still seemed skeptical I would be able to do what I said I could do.

I realized they had no experience with me and  were just going from my word and possibly the word of my sponsor, who hadn’t attended. Without him there to add credibility to the discussion, I felt like I didn’t have a chance to help this vendor.

I was right. Although they were appreciative and gracious, I never heard another word from them. I don’t think it was due to the pandemic. I do think it was due to the fact that I was “forced” on them, and it wasn’t their idea to bring in outside help.

Although I continue to learn this lesson at each engagement, I’ll still state it here: If you haven’t built trust through shared experiences, the odds of securing commitment to work together are very low.

Diving into the Deep End

Armstrong World Industries was forced to open a mineral wool plant, in response to the loss of a critical supplier of this vital raw material for ceiling tile manufacture. Because of this, they relied on more outside vendors to design and build the plant than they were comfortable with. They had never spun molten stone (slag) into fibers before and therefore couldn’t use their experience to reduce the potential for errors and inefficiencies in their process.

The plant started up late, over the capital budget, and at greatly lower performance than required to meet the demand of the ceiling tile plants in the network. Things got so bad that management was shuffled, project team members were removed, and highest-level management was getting involved on a daily basis.

I was “asked” to help the plant achieve budget performance. Knowing this was a politically charged situation and that people who were involved were under intense scrutiny, I convinced my manager to let me visit the facility before committing to the work.

I spent three days at the plant, getting to know the workers, managers, and the process. What I saw was a very concerned and engaged workforce, committed managers, and a process that was absolutely horrible to run. How did we get here, I wondered. I knew I couldn’t fix the past. All I could do was try to improve the future.

There were so many problems, but we identified the biggest one that was causing significant safety, quality, and productivity risk. The molten slag (rock with metal components in it) was designed to fall into a pit and then be scooped up and delivered into a bin. If the slag hit any moisture, it would superheat the water and cause small explosions within the confines of the building. And, the pit was exposed to the outside elements, which naturally allowed moisture in. Another issue was that the front-end loader used to scoop up the molten slag barely fit between the walls of the pit. I saw evidence of damage to the walls of the plant that was less than one-year old. Someday, someone was going to hit a wall with such force that the entire structure would come down.

I spoke with my sponsors and told them incremental improvement wasn’t going to help. We had to figure out a way to keep the slag from falling into the pit in the first place, eliminating the moisture and equipment issue. They looked at me in a way that felt like, “Well, duh, but how the heck can we do that?” I suggested we run a Production Preparation Process (3P) Kaizen in order to tease out and develop breakthroughsolutions to this problem. 3P is the most challenging kaizen event I facilitate. It forces structured minds to get unstructured, go to their childhood mindset (an 8-year-old can solve any problem) and use nature’s influence for ideas. Many engineers and scientists find this difficult to participate in, but their input is essential.

A month later, we assembled a team of operators, managers, engineers, and outside vendors to take the 11-step creativity journey that happens during a one-week 3P Kaizen. We framed the problem in this way: Deliver the molten slag directly to the process without any outside intervention by equipment or the environment. Initial skepticism gave way to creativity, and by the second day, everyone was in it to win it.

By the end of the week, there were two practical solutions for the business to choose from. Both looked promising and reasonably priced, and in the months that followed, one was implemented. From then on, molten slag never hit moisture and the building walls were spared further damage.

More impressive was the feeling of engagement, teamwork, and pride  permeating the workforce. They solved the problem, participated fullyand even identified other possible Kaizen events to run in the future.

The plant is still operating and is now the benchmark in the mineral wool industry. Armstrong was able to produce more mineral wool than internally necessary and then sell the wool to other companies. The workforce is highly engaged and continues to drive improvement on a daily basis.

I was amazed by the feedback of the team, who took on a monumental task and slayed their dragon. To a person, they were positively inspired by the effort and ready to take on the next challenges.

Experimenting in Europe

I was asked to co-facilitate a regional cost-reduction session with my Armstrong mentor, Fred, in Europe. He had facilitated many of these sessions over the years with great success. I was excited for the opportunity to work with him and tour around countries I wasn’t familiar with.

We planned the session together for a month before we left for Europe. It wasn’t unusual for these sessions to identify tens of millions of dollars of actionable improvement opportunities, so the investment of time was well spent. I was always impressed with Fred’s attention to detail and the way he was able to get strong engagement when he facilitated. I knew I was going to learn more about facilitation and strengthen my skills.

We flew to Europe on the weekend and spent a day looking at some castles and the little town we were staying in. Then, on Monday, we went to the corporate office and set up the conference room for the next day’s session.

Fred shared portions of the agenda with me to facilitate. He wanted me to gain experience leading this important session. He took most of the critical elements, including brainstorming and prioritization, as these were the areas in which he truly shined.

During the brainstorming session, I could tell Fred was getting a little tired and running out of ideas on how to draw more creativity out of the room. I suggested a short break and Fred was open to it. I asked Fred if he would be willing to let me step in for a few minutes, changing the tone of the session, by changing facilitators. He allowed me to do so, and I was able to squeeze a few more ideas out of the group.

Then, we took a lunch break. We were about to get into what Fred thought was going to be a lengthy session: the prioritization of the hundreds of ideas that had been generated. During lunch, Fred and I talked about his approach to prioritization. He was going to compare ideas against all others, generating an “A vs. B vs. C vs. all alternatives” matrix. Basically, the ideas that won the comparisons the most times would be the highest priority ideas to work on for the rest of the session.

I told Fred I thought it could take many hours to accomplish this and I may have a quicker way to complete the prioritization. He told me he’d like to try it his way first, but we could talk about adjusting if necessary.

After lunch, Fred drew a complex matrix on a whiteboard and explained his approach to prioritization. The team understood and was engaged as he took them through the initial stages of comparisons.

About thirty minutes in, I noticed some of the participants looked distracted and tired. I also realized we hadn’t finished the first set of comparisons. There were literally dozens more to be completed. I started thinking about how I could help get all these ideas prioritized in a shorter time. Then, an idea hit me. I asked Fred if we could take a short break and regroup. He accommodated my request.

During the break, I explained what I was noticing, did a quick calculation of how long it would take to finish it the way he had started, and asked if he was willing to try my suggestion. He asked for more details, and I explained I would like to try multi-voting with criteria. Using this process, each team member would pick the top 10 ideas they thought would provide the best cost-savings, be easiest to implement, and do no harm to anyone from a safety or quality perspective. Even though this approach didn’t seem scientific, I believed it was a way to utilize the diverse perspectives in the room and quickly build consensus around the many ideas generated.

Fred gave me the go-ahead, with a caveat. If this concept didn’t generate the results the team needed, from their perspective, we’d go back to his method.

I framed out the approach and explained multi-voting with criteria in detail to the team. They asked a few questions and even added an additional criterion to the list. I knew this approach had a chance because they were owning it!

Thirty minutes later, we had prioritized the many ideas into the top 20 to develop further for the company. We took the temperature of the room and by an overwhelming majority they agreed these 20 ideas were truly the top ones out of the total group. We documented all the other ideas, just in case they might be needed in the future.

Fred agreed this quicker approach likely got to the same conclusion that the “A vs. B v. C vs. all alternatives” comparison approach would have. I don’t think either of us could prove that, but we were relieved we had completed the prioritization in a way the team owned.

Over the years, I have refined my multi-voting with criteria approach to cut the prioritization time in half. I can explain it, facilitate it, and train others to do it. I am convinced I have found something to save precious time, even in the most complex ideation and prioritization sessions.

The Ship that Didn’t Sail

Sometimes, even though you know you could help a prospect, they don’t feel the same way. This is one of those stories about my inability to create alignment with a business leader.

I was referred to a yacht brokerage by the CEO of CITY Furniture and after a few months was able to set up a meeting with their CEO. We seemed aligned around my approach and soon he invited me to visit him at his business during one of my upcoming trips to Florida.

We met for dinner the evening before the official visit. He brought his second in command along and we quickly found common ground and shared stories about past work and personal adventures. When dinner was over, we parted ways and I was excited at the possibilities of helping a company who was focused on something I had zero experience with: yacht sales brokering. My only experience with yachting is the old Looney Tunes cartoon, where Bugs Bunny convinces Elmer Fudd that he’s “Elmer J. Fudd, millionaire, who owns a mansion and a yacht.”

The next morning, I met the CEO at his office, and he introduced me to his staff. Throughout the day, I had meaningful conversations with many of the people who worked there and learned about the biggest pain points they were facing. These included:

• The lack of overall aligning metrics across the business – how did they know if they were winning?

• The complexity and length of time it took to close a yacht sale – many of these transactions included more than one country, which multiplied the effort immensely.

• Utilizing the in-house resources to identify and solve problems – this business was family operated and run by a few trusted executives. Others did their work to the best of their ability but didn’t get to make empowered decisions or changes.

I knew I could help, if only I could convince the CEO he could cede control of some critical decisions and let his employees be part of the improvement efforts.

He seemed interested and by the end of the day showed what I thought was a desire to operate his business differently in the future. We left with a plan to reconnect and develop a path forward.

Except that it never happened. I stayed in touch with the CEO for a while, but then realized my approach wasn’t aligned with his vision of how work should get accomplished. Even though he never told me directly, I knew he wouldn’t pursue further meetings with me. It would have been a huge leap of faith for him, and my image of continuous improvement couldn’t overcome years of management-engrained behaviors.

My approach isn’t for everyone. I have to understand that even though I know I can help many of the prospects I visit, they don’t always see it the same way as I do. Maybe I’ll get on a yacht one of these days. It would be fun to pretend to be “Elmer J. Fudd, millionaire.” Until then, I’ll continue to navigate the seas of change for clients, steering them in new and unchartered directions, knowing that if they’re willing, I can help bring them to a great destination.  

Zigging and Zagging Along the Way

I developed a Kaizen facilitator training program for CITY Furniture. Once I realized I could train others in facilitation techniques I had developed over many years of experience, I decided to share the program with my network.

The program contains experiential learning topics covering my top facilitation principles, facilitation practices, Chartering to Win, the Wheel of Sustainability, and other topics I utilize to ensure Kaizen teams have a sustainable, winning experience. I reviewed this with a potential client who was extremely interested.

One month later, with a purchase order in hand, I modified the program to meet some specific needs, as defined in a series of meetings leading up to the training. We even developed a charter for the training, making sure it aligned with the leadership vision of the company.

Although I had previously trained 4 high-potential candidates with CITY Furniture, I was confident I could offer the training to a class of up to 8 participants. In order to give everyone the opportunity to participate in all training exercises, I recommended we expand the course from 2 ½ days to 3 ½ days.

On the first day, I covered critical foundational topics, such as:

·        The separate roles of facilitator, team leader, and team sponsor.

·        My top 12 facilitation principles

·        Top facilitation techniques with exercises for all participants

I was hoping to cover prioritization techniques, but realized things shouldn’t be rushed, so I moved it to the following day. The team was asked to provide feedback on how the day went and while most was positive, there was some discussion about other topics to cover, including a demonstration of a facilitated Gemba Walk.

I reviewed the feedback with my sponsor and he agreed the team needed a Gemba walk demonstration to help them understand the role of the facilitator during this critical Kaizen exercise. I agreed and had to determine which other topics might have to be shortened or removed. Luckily, the extra day built into the training gave me some flexibility.

On day 2, we began by discussing chartering. We had eight real Kaizen events, with sponsors waiting “on-call” for chartering discussions with the trainees. This was to occur between 10:15 and 11:30 am. At 10:30, facilitators met in-person and virtually with their sponsors and worked on charters for upcoming Kaizen events. This made the training real and compelling. All participants learned how critical it was to properly charter their upcoming events and that getting their sponsors to be clear, concise, and aligned wasn’t as easy as it appears to be.

I scheduled the facilitated Gemba walk after lunch. The trainees were given an assignment to identify improvement opportunities on a production line, while I facilitated them to stay on task and engage with the technicians working on the line. After 45 minutes, I brought them back into the meeting room to demonstrate idea gathering and prioritization, which had been delayed from the prior day.

Once this exercise was completed, I had time for one more critical topic, even though the agenda had two in the plan. I chose the one that would be easiest to retain, as it was extremely interactive.

At the end of the day, the feedback was once again mostly positive, with appreciation for the addition of the Gemba walk. There were still thoughts about topics that weren’t included in the agenda. I had to determine how to deal with those. My decision was to utilize any remaining time on the third day for “Bonus Topics” that hadn’t been covered and would be chosen by the trainees.

Day 3 went smoothly and allowed two hours for “Bonus Topics.” I was even able to get the trainees to practice the brainstorming and prioritizing techniques to choose the topics. We covered everything on the list and still had a few minutes to spare. With that, I let the team share their feedback again and then adjourn early. They were exhausted and so was I.

The feedback was very appreciative of the bonus topics and there was still concern about other things we weren’t able to cover. I realized no matter how many topics we covered, there would still be something someone wanted or needed. I had to use my best judgement around what would give them the best foundation for their next steps as Kaizen facilitators.

On day 4, we practiced a panel-discussion report out and when it was delivered to our audience, was extremely well received.

I got so much valuable feedback from the participants and sponsors that I am sure the next version will be even better. But I will also leave some time for adjusting based on the feedback of the next training class. I know it’s more important to meet their specific needs than just cover topics I think are the most important.

My First True Gemba Walk

I started my career as an industrial engineer for Thomasville Furniture in North Carolina. My initial responsibilities included warehouse barcoding support and veneer plant projects. For the warehouse, I had to learn how barcodes were used to inventory, ship, and receive finished furniture from the various plants in the network. In the veneer plant, I was to conduct time and work studies and also identify improvement projects.

Time and work studies consisted of walking around with a stopwatch and a clip board and verifying a number of things: how long it takes to complete a task, how often people were working and how often they were not working. I was told to take a random tour of the plant daily and spend no more than 30 minutes conducting my studies. Holding the clip board and stopwatch can be viewed in a negative light by those you are timing and studying. I was getting some challenging comments when I walked around the plant to do my work.

I realized people at the plant didn’t understand what I was doing, and that it wasn’t designed to hurt them personally. I was helping the company determine capacity and plan appropriately for seasonal changes in demand.

One morning, I asked my manager if I could take more time during my time and work studies to better understand what I was measuring and to get to know the employees better. He agreed and I happily set out to visit the veneer plant.

I started in the matching department. This is where sliced wood with similar wood grain patterns is taped to another piece of sliced wood, to make a desired visual effect. As I started my study , one of the workers made a personal comment about me. I swallowed my pride and walked up to her and introduced myself. This caught her off guard. I then explained to her what I was doing. She told me no one had ever explained time and work studies to her. She assumed I was an “investor” and was trying to decide whether or not to buy the plant and shut it down.

I assured her I was there to do a job just like her and we started talking about why both our jobs mattered. Hers was to ensure the customers got what they paid for and mine was to ensure customers would never have to wait for the furniture they bought.

Now she was sharing her concerns and problems in her department. She also encouraged others to share their issues. I realized I had a great opportunity to learn what was really going on and to identify future critical work opportunities to share with my manager.

I had to balance the fact that my time and work studies were going to take much longer than 30 minutes with the fact that the ideas and improvements coming from the discussions would pay for the extra time. It didn’t take long to find a bunch of ideas and projects from these discussions that more than made up for the additional investment of time.

Even though I didn’t know it at the time, I was conducting a Gemba walk and learning about the processes with the people who do the work. I have used this approach in all of my work to this day and now teach others to take the time to truly understand processes with the people that do the work. Invest the time and the rewards will more than pay for themselves.