Raise Your Standards and Take Ownership

I was the industrial engineering manager at a ceramic tile plant in New York. We made mosaic tiles. The color went all the way through the tile. Mosaic is also a word used to describe the artistic patterns we made as special orders from our customers.

For years, we had a department that had the task to take any requested design and turn it into reality through manual assembly of the many different colored tiles we made. Sometimes this required tiles to be cut, an extremely slow and difficult process to accomplish. These special orders took many weeks to complete and were very expensive.

We heard about a technology called “water-jet” cutting that was being used at a few locations in our parent company, Armstrong World Industries. Using high pressure water, you could cut into almost any material (metal, plastics, etc.) and get a clean and precise cut. We were intrigued and felt there might be an application for this technology at our plant.

We arranged a visit to two of our plants, one, a ceiling tile plant in Beaver Falls Pennsylvania, and the other, a vinyl flooring plant in Lancaster Pennsylvania. We took the company van and I was joined by two operators, a programmer, and an engineer.

When we got to the vinyl flooring plant, we were met by a project engineer, who oversaw the samples department. They were using their water-jet to cut small pieces of vinyl flooring out of the larger rolls, so that they could send samples of different colors and patterns to customers. The shapes being cut were rectangles, so although this saved a lot of labor, we weren’t convinced it would help us cut complex shapes into our ceramic tiles.

Our team was convinced that in order to program and cut complex shapes and designs, we’d need someone specially trained and highly compensated for this new skill we were seeking. As an industrial engineer, I knew it wasn’t a good idea to have such a highly specialized job very few would be able to master. It limited flexibility and raised operating costs.

At the ceiling tile plant, we were met by a production operator. She showed us how she programmed and cut complex designs into the face of ceiling tiles using the water-jet. We were intrigued and impressed by the variety of shapes and designs she was able to cut. When we asked her how difficult it was to learn to program the equipment, she told us it was extremely simple and intuitive. You could either import a CAD (computer aided design) drawing or scan an existing design and the machine would figure out the cuts to make.

Our team members weren’t convinced that anyone could do it. They were ready to leave for home when I asked the operator if she’d provide some basic training and let our operators try it for themselves. She said yes, and I was able to convince my team to take the extra time to decide about the skills needed.

They picked out a couple of designs and after an hour of training, they were cutting ceiling tiles exactly as programmed. Now they knew they could do it and easily apply the water-jet to our ceramic tiles. On the way back to our plant, there was excitement about how easy this new technology was to master.

A few months later, we purchased and installed the new equipment. The plant was able to make beautiful mosaic patterns for many years thereafter and had the flexibility to use almost any operator to do it. Although seeing is part of believing, it wasn’t until the team actually tried their hand at the process that they were convinced it was a good idea. The lesson: open your mind to fully experience your options before counting out a solution.

Sometimes You Have to Let Things Go

I was a supervisor at a small ceiling grid plant in Franklin Park Illinois. I could see all the way from one end of the factory to the shipping docks at the other end from my second-floor office.

After less than one year on the job, the company announced a joint venture with a competitor and our factory was scheduled to be shut down in the coming months. I put on a brave face with my crew to keep them safe and productive during the final months of operations.

As we got closer to the end, most orders had been transferred to our other plants. I was always looking for constructive things to keep our employees occupied. I think I was trying to keep myself busy too.

One day, I noticed a large pile of steel tooling sitting on pallets in an unused corner of the plant. The tooling looked like it hadn’t been used in years. It was covered with many inches of dust. Doing some research, I found out that it was for products that hadn’t been produced at the plant in many years. This was one of those things that was easier to avoid than deal with.

I gathered a group of my most willing crew members and we had a disposal “party.” We brought a large scrap metal dumpster over to the tooling, and proceeded to throw, chuck, drop, and sling the tooling into it. “Clang, clang, clang,” went the tooling as it hit the sides of the container. The more we did this, the happier we felt. It was almost as if we were releasing our stress about the factory being closed.

We took a break for lunch and I went into the office, extremely proud of my team of “disposal engineers”. I stopped by to talk with our maintenance and engineering manager and invited him out to review our progress. As we reached the dumpster, he exclaimed, “What have you done? We can’t just throw this away without taking it off our books – they’re going to kill me back in corporate!”

I didn’t know what to say. He was right. We had an obligation to account for everything in the plant before disposing of it. As I attempted to come up with a plan to retrieve the tooling from the dumpster, he said to me, “Oh what the heck. What’s done is done!” And with that, he started throwing the tooling into the dumpster with a “clang, clang, clang!”

Image is Everything – Understand How Your Reflection May Look to Others

I have been a small business owner for a few years. My company consists of me, my wife, my son, and my dog. I quickly learned I am responsible for everything that goes on. Nowhere is this more critical than customer acquisition.

In my first year, I was fortunate enough to work with people who had seen what I do and how I do it when we worked together at Armstrong World Industries. Because I had already built strong relationships with them, they trusted me to utilize my approach to their problems in their companies. When it was time for me to expand beyond those I knew, I learned I had to build that trust in other ways, without a prior relationship. Sometimes trust was built easily, other times not so much. Here’s a story about how I didn’t build trust in a way that led to a business relationship.

During a Google search, a local business leader reached out to me to see if I could help his company with a couple of Kaizen events. I was excited for the opportunity and scheduled a visit.

We met in a conference room and I explained my process for the visit. I would get to know their leadership team, take a Gemba walk, and then put together an action plan for the work in which we could engage. They were polite, but seemed skeptical. I was confident, maybe too confident, that I could win them over.

After the initial meeting, we took a walk through their manufacturing process. I met many people and asked a lot of questions and could see many opportunities to apply my skills to help the business improve their safety, productivity, quality, and customer service. I took copious notes and built a plan in my head to create a shared vision for our journey together.

When the Gemba walk was over, three people stayed with me to review my observations and plan: the director of operations, the plant manager, and a young engineer. I thanked them for the opportunity to learn more about their business and then started describing the opportunities I saw and believed I could help them with. Reviewing my Kaizen approach and the Wheel of Sustainability, I said most of these issues could be solved in a week or less, using Kaizen events.

The group looked at me skeptically and I just plowed forward, describing how the Wheel of Sustainability works and how teams engage with it to solve problems in a sustainable way during the Kaizen week. And that’s when the engineer said, “I don’t see it. I don’t think you and a team can do all that you say you can in a week or less.”

I tried to assure him and the rest that we could, but clearly, I hadn’t instilled the confidence in them and built the image of what “good” looks like in a way that was meaningful and real to them. Although they gave me the opportunity to write a proposal for the Kaizen events, I never got the chance to work with them.

This was my fault. Luckily, I realize it now. It is my responsibility to build the image of what is possible in a way that is clear to my audience. It must be in terms that make sense to them, so trust is built, and we can partner to solve their critical problems.

I still have a lot to learn, but I feel that I am on a good path to create the trust that is so critical for lasting business relationships.

Make It Real

I created the Wheel of Sustainability many years ago. It’s been applied to many different industries and problems. On the first day of every Kaizen event I facilitate, I introduce the concept of the Wheel and help teams utilize it to sustain the solutions they create during the week.

Most people haven’t heard about the Wheel and don’t know how to utilize it effectively. As the Kaizen week progresses, I help team members implement elements of the Wheel so they have a better grasp of things and know what to do moving forward. Recently, I noticed my Kaizen team wasn’t taking full advantage of what I was teaching them and decided to try an experiment. I abandoned my facilitator role and demonstrated a specific approach to a problem they were trying to solve.

They were working on strengthening a major equipment installation by creating control plans for different aspects of the project. The control plans were owned by various members of the team. They created twenty-eight plans over a resource pool of nine owners. Some team members had up to five control plans to manage. Others had as few as one. These control plans were intended to reduce the risk of failure for this critical project. Their success was vital.

In a traditional project management approach, each control plan owner would deal with their issues on their own and bring problems to light when it was too late to take preventive action. We had to come up with a system to manage all of the control plans and keep status of them visible to everyone, so help could be deployed before it was too late. That’s where the Wheel of Sustainability came into play.

Using their control plan structure, I helped the team build their “why.” In other words, “Why were these control plans so critical to the success of the project?” This would enable them to explain to others in a meaningful way, so they would be aligned and willing to help, should something go sideways. This enabled Notification and Training and Review. Next, we developed Visible Evidence for the control plans. Each owner installed a whiteboard outside his or her office. On it, the status of each control plan was displayed, along with critical tasks to be completed on the current day, week, and month. Anyone walking by could see what was going on and easily engage with the owner, during their daily Gemba Walk. This was their Layered Audit.

Next, we had to make sure each owner had all the tools needed (All Tools Available) to access the information around the project easily. The team created a shared document and gave access to all control plan owners and the Leadership Team. The Clear Benefits of this work were easily verbalized by all of the team members, and they were enthusiastic about this new approach. We tested our logic with others who weren’t on the team, and they agreed with us.

Accountability for each control plan was obvious, and Leadership accountability was demonstrated by the new daily Gemba Walk through all of the offices with white boards. Finally, stories of risk reduction and prevention created Recognition for this new approach.

Leadership Commitment was demonstrated by support of the new system and leadership engagement in the daily Gemba Walk. The team is confident they have successfully mitigated and managed the risk of their most critical equipment installation

By using the Wheel and applying it to a specific problem, I was able to help the team implement a system to prevent problems from derailing their most critical project.

Sometimes the Right Choice isn’t the Convenient One

I was the operations manager at the St. Helens Oregon ceiling tile plant. I was responsible for the board forming and the fabrication units. It was here that I made a major rookie mistake that would stick with me throughout my career. Here’s the story.

The board forming unit consisted of a mixing, forming, drying, and board cutting and stacking operation. The fabrication unit consisted of all equipment that converted 4 by 8-foot boards into 2 by 2- foot and 2 by 4-foot painted tiles packaged and ready for shipment.

The board forming unit had an eight-level dryer that was approximately 400 feet long. A slurry would enter the dryer at extremely high moisture levels and exit it fully dried and ready for processing. Boards would travel at slow speeds through the dryer on their way to be cut at a large panel saw, called the Dry Saw. If there was a problem at the Dry Saw, things could be slowed down in the dryer for a short period of time, but eventually all  boards in the dryer had to be offloaded, or there could be major damage to product, or worse, a fire.

One day, we were experiencing significant downtime in our fabrication unit. With low maintenance staffing, I requested all mechanical help in fabrication, and they came and deployed to the equipment that was having trouble. They were working beneath a conveyer, deeply involved in repairing a critical problem. It looked like they had about 45 minutes of work left to do when I got the call that we were having a problem at the Dry Saw and that boards were backing up in the dryer.

I told my team manager to monitor the situation, but I decided to have the mechanics continue working on their repairs in the fabrication unit. This was a bad choice. After 20 minutes, things got worse in the board dryer and a major jam occurred. And then, a fire. Everyone in all departments stopped what they were doing and came to contain the fire and dig out smoldering boards in the dryer. Taking a 14-foot rake, I helped pull wet boards out of the dryer while others doused the fire and helped clean up a huge mess. After 16 hours, we had everything cleaned up and were able to safely start operations back up.

It was a huge mistake on my part. I realized I should have responded to the board forming unit issues immediately, even if it would force our fabrication unit to stay down longer. My boss wasn’t happy about my choice, but was understanding. He told me, “All new production managers make this mistake. But, only once! Always pick the board forming unit issues first, then fabrication. Unless there’s a major safety or health incident in fabrication.” I heeded his advice from then on.

Pick It Up and Move It

I was an early Lean practitioner at Armstrong World Industries. I’d spend a week with a production and maintenance team on a production line, helping them implement improvements to safety, quality, productivity, and customer service. At the end of the week, we’d give a tour of our changes. Because of our numerous successes, I was requested to help many of our manufacturing sites around the world.

Macon Georgia was our largest ceiling tile manufacturing plant, with the capability to produce ½ billion square feet of ceiling tile annually. I was invited to help them with a critical production problem. They were experiencing a high rate of jams. When a jam occurs, operators have to clear material off the line as fast as possible, or further downtime and damage will occur. This creates safety and quality risk. The plant manager told me they had an average of 9 jams on the line every day. He wanted my help to reduce them to zero.

I told him I would need a very capable and qualified team of operators, mechanics, and supervisors. I also needed free reign to make any changes we saw fit, without waiting for approval. He agreed and organized a “Dream Team” for me.

On the first day of our Kaizen event, we toured the line, looking for the major locations where jams were occurring. The highest jam location was at the Flipper-Stacker and the conveyer leading up to it. This equipment looked like a Ferris Wheel. It flipped every other tile, to stack them face to face and back-to-back. Then, after being flipped, they traveled to a back stop, which lined up the tile edges and dropped them into a stacking device.

We noticed the tiles were entering the flipper portion on an angle. The conveyers leading up to the flipper were trying to straighten the tiles, but because there wasn’t much room between the flipper and the prior inspection station, the tiles couldn’t straighten out. How were we going to deal with that? Then, I asked, “What would it take to move the inspection station?” The team looked at me as if I had come from another planet. Someone asked, “How can we move the inspection station? There are conveyers, lighting, power, and other critical equipment that would have to be moved.” I said, “If we want to reduce jams to zero, we’ll have to.”

We started planning the mechanical and electrical work that would have to be accomplished to safely move the inspection station the 30 feet away from the flipper. We knew we could move the mechanical portion during the day, but we couldn’t get the overhead lights moved until the following day. The inspectors needed proper lighting to identify defects on the face of the tiles that went by at a rapid rate. While the team started dismantling the inspection station, I went to the store to buy temporary lights.

When I returned, we were ready to remove conveyers and relocate the inspection station. The day shift crew helped us and believed in what we were doing. We set up the temporary lights and reconnected all components of the line. The line started back up and we adjusted the conveyer rollers and guides. The tiles were now entering the flipper more squarely. After a few hours, we had the line running better than it had in the past. But we still didn’t have the permanent lights installed.

After the team went home, I stayed to talk with the evening crew. They had no idea what we had done, so I knew I needed to explain our changes and our thinking. And tell them about the lighting that would be relocated the next day.

We met in a space that was designed for six people. There must have been fourteen crew members in the room and they didn’t look happy. I explained what we had done and why we did it. After a few minutes of discussion, one of the crew said, “You could sell me a car. I truly believe you did what you did for the right reasons.” Then, he smiled and gave me a pat on the back. I thanked everyone for being patient with us and encouraged them to hang in there until the permanent lights were relocated.

The next morning, I arrived at the plant early and was told the line had been running very well overnight. This was great news. Now, we had to get the electricians to move the lights in a way that wouldn’t disrupt the production line. They planned out their work and were able to move everything without causing much downtime. We continued to tweak the line and by the end of the day, we had tiles well-spaced and squarely entering the flipper. This was a major breakthrough, but we weren’t done. Now we had to improve the performance of the stacker. That story could stand on its own, but suffice it to say we fabricated some new brackets and the tiles stopped jamming there too.

At the end of the day, I met with the evening crew again to show them what we had done. The crew member who patted me on the back gave me a bear hug and told me he appreciated I kept my word.

By the end of the week, we made many other improvements and welded everything in place, so the crew wouldn’t have to worry about jams at the flipper and stacker again. We didn’t get to zero jams, but we got pretty close. We also proved it sometimes takes drastic measures to accomplish a goal. But, with proper support and resources, you can accomplish almost anything.

Stop and Smell the Roses

I was the Production Manager at the St. Helens Ceiling Tile plant for just under three years. I had always wanted to apply my continuous improvement mindset to a production organization. The VP of Manufacturing gave me a chance and I was determined to repay his trust and support with excellent results.

When I arrived, the plant was running well below budgeted productivity levels. Their OEE (Overall Equipment Effectiveness) was in the high 60’s and they were budgeted to be in the high 70’s. We had a long way to go if we were going to meet our budget.

Through a number of critical actions that included discipline to standard work, scripted changeovers, identification of preventative maintenance activities, and alignment of the supervisory team, we achieved our first 80% OEE in my fourth month on the job.

Six months into my tenure we were on a roll. We were having amazing productivity days, with extremely low downtime and scrap. One day, we had only six minutes of downtime in a 24-hour period. This was unheard of.

As the month wore on, we realized we might actually have a record performance month for the company. Three days before the end of the month, we were a full percentage point above the prior company record. We held daily production meetings at 8:30 am. On this day, there was some tension between the Manufacturing Manager, Brett, (my boss) and the Plant Manager, Ashley (his boss). They had worked together at the plant many years and the running joke was they were like an “old married couple,” sniping at each other all of the time.

Something he said got under her skin. Ashley responded with something even more biting. All of the sudden, it was on! Twelve of us sitting around a central table scattered except our two “combatants.” After three minutes it was over.

I tried to understand what had happened. We were running so well. Why couldn’t we just enjoy it? I felt I had to do something, or else we would send the wrong message to our teams that were working so hard to have a record month.

My first stop was Brett’s office. I asked him what he thought had happened. He told me Ashley was never satisfied with performance, no matter how good it was. I said they must teach that in Plant Manager School. He laughed and we agreed to take a less drastic approach to the end of the month. He said he would try to reconcile with her later that day.

My next visit was to Ashley’s office. She waved me in and I brought up the events of the morning. I asked her if we couldn’t just enjoy the performance, if even for a moment. Did we really need to let the smallest things create a scene? She said to me, “Adam, it’s just not who I am. I don’t want anyone to let their guard down. We’re close to a record. If we don’t keep up our intensity, we could lose this opportunity.”

I said, “We’re not doing right by our teams. They’re doing their best to drive the safety and productivity that’s putting us in this position to win. Give us a chance. Let’s see if we can set the record and then recognize all of the hard work that got us there.”

Ashley listened to my plea, but made no promises. I guess it was a small victory. At least she didn’t throw me out of her office. The next day, she may have wished she had. In the meeting room, I placed a Dilbert and Pointy Haired Boss Doll in the middle of the table on top of a sign that read, “Channel your frustrations through us, not each other!” Only a few of us thought it was funny. I think I made my point.

At the end of the month, we set the company productivity record, had our best quality month, and injured no one. It was a win all around. We celebrated for a very short time because it was time for a new month and new challenges.

Why Would You Treat Your People that Way?

Our fiberglass ceiling tile plant in Ohio got their board stock from another company (let’s call them Vendor X). They had some problems with the quality of some of the boards they received. As Vendor X was a critical partner, they decided to co-host a Kaizen event to eliminate the quality problems.

The first day, we met at the ceiling tile plant and laid out the issues we were experiencing. Walking through the receiving and production areas, we identified several quality issues that could be rectified from the plant’s internal processes. We then agreed to walk the Vendor X process on the second day.

Walking through Vendor X’s factory, we saw many impressive safety ideas we could emulate back at our factories. One was the painting the bottom stair red, so everyone would know it was the last stair before reaching the ground. This idea was implemented after they learned some of their people were missing the last step and had tripped or fallen. Once implemented, these issues went away.

The process to make fiberglass panels was fascinating and somewhat like the process to make mineral fiber ceiling tiles. We learned how molten fiberglass was spun into fibers and formed into long panels. Then, the panels were cut to finished lengths and stacked at the end of the line. Then, I saw something I wasn’t expecting. Instead of a barrier for the panels to hit and be stacked, they were hitting a worker.

This worker was taking the blow of the panel on his waist or stomach and letting it bounce off and then drop into a stack in front of him. I asked if this was a temporary situation and was informed it was a “normal” job in the factory.

This company, which was known for its focus on safety, was clearly missing a huge opportunity to eliminate a safety risk. They told us they had tried to automate it in the past, but it didn’t work and their employees preferred the current method of stacking. I couldn’t believe it could be okay to put their people at risk like this. It was clear their Leadership Commitment didn’t reach to this area of their process. I can’t imagine people are still treated that way in their factory these many years later. But, when I am having a bad day, I think back to that tour and realize that someone is always having a worse day! The lessons here: 1. No matter how good you think you are, there is always room for improvement; 2. Put yourself in the position of your people; and 3. Even someone who says they’re “OK” with a current process deserves to have it improved, if possible.

One Call is All That Was Needed

I spent the early part of my career working at Thomasville Furniture as an Industrial Engineer. I was responsible for supporting our veneer plant. One of the most valuable lessons I learned from my time in this role was a stark example of never, ever overlooking the simple or the obvious – in this case a single phone call could have saved 18 months of work from being. Here’s the story.

In furniture, veneer is used to create a unique look on the surface of the furniture, which would be impossible with solid wood. In many cases, veneer panels are stronger and more stable than solid wood. The veneered surface is glued to an inner core to create a “sandwich” of wood plies. This is where the term plywood comes from.

To make patterns, slices of wood are placed side by side with tape applied at the edges to hold them together, prior to gluing to the core board. After gluing, the tape is sanded off. This reduces the thickness of the veneer. Although the surface is thinner, the bond is stronger, as the tape has equalized the moisture in all the types of wood prior to gluing, resulting in a very stable and strong surface.

It always bothered me that we had to sand the expensive veneer surface after the plywood was formed, but I was assured that there was no loss of strength or durability of the veneer surface.

One day, I was invited to a meeting at our corporate offices. An R&D team from our parent company, Armstrong World Industries, had traveled to North Carolina to show us a breakthrough technology that they said was going to revolutionize the veneering process.

Seated around a conference table, we were introduced to three scientists who supported us from Armstrong’s corporate office in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Most of us had never met them or heard about them, but they had been working on a veneer project for one and a half years.

They worked on an idea to eliminate the need to tape the veneer together prior to gluing to the core board. They used a sonic adhesion technique. They thought that by eliminating the tape, we could eliminate the need to sand the veneer and keep things stronger and more stable. This would also reduce the labor required to produce the finished products.

They gave us a demonstration of the sonic attachment method. Then they asked if we had any questions. Our veneer buyer asked if they understood the benefits of taping and how it equalized the moisture content of the different species of wood as they were spliced together. The R&D team looked puzzled and asked for more information. He told them if the moisture content wasn’t equalized, the different veneer species would grow and shrink at different rates, due to their natural moisture content. This would be most problematic during the gluing process.

The R&D team members looked dejected at this point. Then, one of the other members of the Thomasville team asked them if they had ever called anyone at the furniture company. They hadn’t. At that moment they realized they had wasted 18 months of effort. If they had just placed one phone call, they would have found out a critical detail, which would have changed the course of their project entirely!

They took their equipment and samples and went home. We never heard from them again. The lesson in all of this is to communicate with your customer and learn critical details about their process, rather than assuming you know more than you do.

Not Everyone Thinks the Same

I’m an engineer. Please don’t hold that against me. I’d like to believe I think logically, solving problems in a scientific way. I was taught this way as I was growing up. I assumed everyone else thinks this way. How wrong I was!

My first job out of college was as an Industrial Engineer for Thomasville Furniture. After many job changes and promotions within Armstrong, I ended up as a Senior Industrial Engineer at the corporate office in Lancaster PA.

I was having a lot of success helping teams solve critical manufacturing problems all over the world, using my own brand of facilitation techniques. Feedback on my approach was mostly positive, but there were some who thought I was a bit heavy-handed and not listening to team members as much as I should.

Our project managers were all required to attend a problem solving and facilitation course in Buffalo NY. It was highly regarded. My boss thought it would be a good idea for me to attend. I was happy to have the opportunity, and it also sounded like a nice week away from the office.

On the first day of the course, 25 people sat at tables of 4 or 5 and introduced themselves. We were told we would learn dozens of problem-solving and facilitation techniques. Before we did, we had to understand how people think. That seemed reasonable. But didn’t everyone think in a logical, straight-line way, like me?

We were instructed to draw a picture illustrating how we solve a problem. After we had a few minutes to complete our task, we were asked to share our results with others at our table. Being the logical engineer, I drew a series of boxes and arrows showing the steps I took from problem identification to resolution. It was essentially a straight line and made a lot of sense to me.

When I reviewed my process with the group, a few looked at my picture with concern in their eyes. Then, one member of the group showed her drawing. It looked like a dust cloud, with an unhappy face on one side and a sunny day on the other side. She described how when a problem comes to her, she goes to a dark place to think until the answer presents itself on the other side, which made her happy.

This couldn’t be a more opposite approach to mine. But it was hers. It’s how she dealt with problems and it worked for her. I realized for possibly the first time that not everyone thinks like I do. I now knew the purpose of the exercise. We can’t assume everyone thinks in the same way. If we do, we won’t be sensitive to their needs and therefore can’t help them through our facilitation efforts.

I became more open to learning as many different facilitation and problem-solving techniques as I could possibly use. Having a full arsenal allows me to modify my approach to the needs of the people I am working with. This simple exercise opened my eyes to the obvious. I’d like to think it made me a better facilitator and someone who can help anyone solve problems.

Good Things Can Come from a Tough Situation

My first supervisory assignment was at a ceiling grid factory in Franklin Park Illinois. We had eleven operating lines at one end of the plant and a distribution center at the other end. It wasn’t unusual to produce grid in the morning and ship it out the same day. Sometimes, due to inefficiencies, we produced finished goods for customers whose trucks were waiting to be loaded on our shipping docks.

In early December, people in suits came to our plant and took a tour. They spent time on the factory floor and in the offices with our plant management. I was told they were “investors.” I didn’t know enough to question this, and went about my business, trying to produce grid as safely and productively as possible.

Our Vice President of Operations came to the plant in the middle of December and took the staff and their dates out to a nice dinner. He told us how impressed he was with us and that he was committed to the long-term viability of the plant.

Our performance was improving and the team was feeling good about their future. Early in the spring, we planned a recognition luncheon and invited employees from all three shifts to join in the celebration.

As we sat down to the meal, our Plant Manager summarized the performance improvements made over the past year. He congratulated many by name and shared how proud he was of what we had accomplished. Then, he introduced the “investors.” Everyone clapped. We had no idea what was about to happen.

One of the investors got up and added his congratulations. Then, he told us that even though we had made such great progress, our company had entered into a joint venture with his. Our plant had become redundant. We would be shut down in the next three months.

I was stunned. Good thing too. The moment the announcement was made, employees looked at me to see if I knew about the plant closure ahead of time. The look on my face told them I didn’t.

Over the next three months, we did everything possible to keep everyone safe and productive while we were preparing the plant to shut down. We lost many good crew members who found jobs in the area. But something happened that surprised me (in addition to the shock of the announcement). Performance improved beyond the levels it had reached prior to the luncheon. I think most people wanted to stay busy, rather than focusing on the eventual plant closure.

The remaining team members became closer and seemed to appreciate me more than they had before. I’m almost certain my ignorance of what was coming made them feel like I was in the same situation as them and that I hadn’t hidden anything from them.

As we shut off the lights and locked the doors on the final operating day at the plant, employees hugged each other and said their heartfelt good-byes. Our team rallied in the face of adversity and stayed strong until the end.

One Size Doesn’t Fit All

Early in my career, I worked at Thomasville Furniture. I supported the veneering operations. We were building a new plant for the plywood pressing operations. I was asked to design and purchase a storage system for the heavy wood blocks that were used to create shaped plywood in a special press.

I had two critical problems to solve:

1.      Improve the organization of the blocks and make them easy to find.

2.      Reduce the effort and safety risk of moving the blocks into and out of the press.

In the existing veneer plant, the blocks were stored on pallets on the floor. When needed, they were carried to the press and slid into place. The blocks weighed 40 to 400 pounds. The heaviest block was used to create bed canopies. All other blocks weighed 100 pounds or less. One person carried the lighter blocks to the press. Four people carried the bed canopy blocks. Clearly this wasn’t a safe practice. I knew I could improve this situation.

The first thing I did was follow the process in the old plant. I walked with the operators and helped them carry blocks to the press. They were heavy, bulky and difficult to transport safely. They were stored all over the plant. Finding them often took more time than carrying and sliding them into the press.

I was given a set amount of space in the new plant. I wanted to design a rack system to store blocks in any location on the rack, to allow for flexibility. I quickly realized that if I did this, I would need a rack that was five times bigger than the space I was given. What could I do, I wondered?

Then I had an idea: create a special rack location for the heaviest block. This location would have rollers to make it easier to move the block into and out of the rack. The rest of the shelves in the rack had wire decking which was more than adequate to safely slide the lighter blocks into and out of the rack. Using this concept, I was able to store all of the blocks into the allocated space.

Now I needed to create a system to safely move the blocks from the rack to the press. Working with a material handling vendor, we designed a cart with rollers on it and a front plate to keep the blocks from falling off. One worker was able to take the cart to the rack, slide the block from the rack to the cart, and use the front plate to keep the block in place. Once the cart was rolled to the press, the front plate was lowered and the block was moved into the press safely and with low effort.

We established a procedure for one person to safely handle any block, except for the bed canopy block. For that, we required two people to work together. This project taught me the valuable lesson that you have to understand the full problem to be solved before coming up with a solution. One size doesn’t fit all.

Alternate History

Recognition is a key element in the Wheel of Sustainability. It refers to the telling of stories to lock in commitment to a critical change. Once someone tells a story as if they were there, it’s an indication of their commitment to the change. Recognition happens in many places. Sometimes it’s in a business setting, other times it’s personal. This is a story of personal Recognition.

In my family, when one family member takes credit for something that everyone else remembers someone else doing, we call that “alternate history.”

My mother was really good at creating alternate history. The thing is, we never argued about it, because it was always a fond memory. Why spoil her fun and Recognition of a story she treasured? Here’s an example:

I met my Peggy, my wife, on a blind date, well before the days of online dating. People actually knew someone they thought you might like going out with. I worked with her sister, who set us up. How could I say no? Our first date was fun and we got along very well. We dated for over a year and people started to wonder if we would take our relationship to the next level and get married.

Peggy and I were happy to live independently. We never talked about marriage. We felt fortunate to have someone with whom we could be ourselves and enjoy being around. We had many adventures we still talk about to this day.

My parents loved Peggy and made it clear they were happy we found each other. One day they were visiting me in North Carolina. My father, who didn’t typically get too involved in my personal business, took me aside.

He was a man of few words, but I’ll never forget what he said: “Can you imagine your life without Peggy?” I couldn’t, and it wasn’t many hours later when I proposed marriage. The words came out in the middle of the mulch aisle of a hardware store. We decided to not tell anyone until we had a few days to confirm we were serious.

Over the years, the story changed. My mother took credit for saying those words to me. She was so proud she was able to influence her son, the confirmed bachelor. Peggy and I laughed about it. We never corrected Mom. Dad didn’t either. Her Recognition of her influence on me showed how much she treasured our relationship. Mom and Dad are gone now, but this fond memory remains. It’s my Recognition of the love they shared. Now I’m sharing it with you.

Peggy’s Toolbox

I’m always organizing things around the house. One winter, I cut the shapes of my tools into foam and lined the drawers of my tool box. It looked so nice, I showed it to my family so they could admire it too. They humored me, but didn’t seem very impressed.

On a trip to Costco, I bought a labeler. It seemed like something that might come in handy for one of my home organization projects. Peggy, my wife, asked me what I needed with one. I wasn’t sure, but it was inexpensive. What was the harm in having one?

Eventually, I went through the tubs stored in our basement and consolidated and disposed of things. From time to time, I got Peggy’s permission to donate or throw things away. After each tub was completed, I put a label on it to identify contents and the date it was reviewed. That way, I wouldn’t feel the need to do it again for a few years. I showed off my work. Once again, I was met with a less than excited reaction.

I took some grief for being so organized, but Peggy and I laughed about it often. She was also quietly organizing the kitchen. We’d go to a store and come back with plastic containers of various sizes.

One morning, while taking out my breakfast cereal, I noticed labels on the plastic containers in the pantry. All of a sudden, the labeler had purpose. The idea of organizing and making things visible, was beneficial to Peggy. More than that, she was committed to the idea.

I help out in the kitchen after dinner. Peggy washes the dishes and I dry and put them away. I always forget which Pyrex goes where and must be reminded often. One day, I asked why the Pyrex goes where it does and wouldn’t it be better to store it differently? I was met with this explanation:

“Don’t mess with my toolbox and I won’t mess with yours.”

From then on, I haven’t questioned Peggy’s system. I get well fed and meals always come out on time, regardless of the number of ingredients or side dishes. I don’t question the need for another container, pot, pan, or utensil. I reap the rewards.

Peggy’s fully committed to her system. She sees the value of organization and ensures everyone knows and follows the standard. And as a family, we receive Clear Benefits through the use of her toolbox!

Go With the Flow

I was engaged to help an electronics manufacturer improve the safety and productivity of a testing lab at their Breinigsville, PA location. The problem they were trying to solve was that it took too long from the time the equipment was received to the time the test report was delivered to the customer.

We took a Gemba walk of the lab. I knew that the lack of organization and visualization of the process were key contributors to the less than acceptable performance. George, the lab owner, had worked for the company for many years and had a system that worked for him, but others had no idea what was going on and how they could help.

I proposed conducting a modified 5S Kaizen event, with a focus on improving the safety, productivity, and flow in the lab. Once the charter was approved, we planned a three and a half day workshop.

I arrived the day before the event. Rich, the team leader, informed me that George had cleaned up the lab the week before. Rich was disappointed and thought it would limit what our team could accomplish. I assured him that what George thought was “cleaning” would just give us a bit of a head start on the first day of the Kaizen. It wouldn’t limit the safety, productivity or flow improvements to be made. Rich wasn’t so sure.

What’s Not Part of the Customer Experience is Waste

On the first day of the event, I taught the team Lean principles and helped them understand how to look at processes from the lens of the customer. Anything that didn’t directly impact the experience for the customer was “waste.” Our job was to eliminate as much waste as possible, so the customer could receive their results in the simplest, safest, and most expedient way. I then showed them how 5S (Sort, Set in Order, Shine, Standardize, Sustain) could help us eliminate waste in a simple way.

Next, we took a team Gemba walk of the lab. Team members were feverishly writing ideas on their post-it notes. They were seeing things in a new way. George even admitted he hadn’t realized how much clutter existed in the lab. This initial recognition seemed to assuage Rich’s concerns.

We started removing unnecessary tools, equipment, and supplies on the afternoon of the first day. This continued through the second day. In all, we removed approximately 75% of everything that had been in the lab. Now we could see what was really going on and how we might rearrange things to improve the flow of material through the lab.

There was one critical piece of testing equipment. Before we started our work, it was surrounded by clutter and other equipment. Now, it had much-needed space to work. The team identified the things that would help the testing go through the critical equipment efficiently.

Focusing on Flow

On the third day, it looked like we had a nice arrangement of materials and information in the lab. The team was ready to put up signage and label everything in its optimal position. I knew we were better off than when we started, but there had been no evaluation of the flow. This was my opportunity to teach another technique to evaluate flow: spaghetti diagramming. Team members use a paper layout of the area and trace the movements of people with their pencil or pen as they do their work. When they’re done, the picture looks like spaghetti.

George took us through the fourteen steps of testing, from receipt of the materials to be tested to final report writing. We asked him to move around the lab as he would normally do. When he was done, there was a bunch of spaghetti on the papers. This told us there were many opportunities to reduce the amount of motion and effort in the process. With just a few, simple changes in the positioning of tools and other equipment, we were able to reduce the motion by half, as evidenced by the new spaghetti diagrams. This was a breakthrough.

At the report out, team members noted that by focusing on flow in the lab, they were able to make significant improvements in safety and productivity. Ultimately their customers would see and feel the improvements they implemented. Two weeks later, George was still identifying improvements he could make without any team support. He was now a true believer in the power of Kaizen.

How do you measure knowledge?

If you produce a physical product, it’s easy to see things being created. You can count them, measure them, and identify the cost to produce them. But what happens when you create knowledge or a new product idea. How do you measure your output? More importantly, how do you measure your effectiveness and identify when you need help?

The technology group of a global ceiling tile manufacturer that I worked for decided it was time to figure this out. For many years, our leaders requested resources and money for projects based on anecdotal evidence and gut feelings. In the business world, you must show a return. If you can’t, somebody else will get the resources and investment.

Resources had become scarce and there wasn’t a clear way to show the return on investment, when requests for money or people were made. We needed to come up with a metric of contribution for our group.

We had four distinct Value Streams: Innovation, New Product Development, Capital Engineering, and Business and Operations Support. Each one worked at different points in the business cycle. Innovation was at the very beginning, when an idea was generated. Business and Operations Support engaged after a project was complete. Was there any way to create a metric that made sense for all four Value Streams?

Developing a New Way to Measure Value

Our plants had a single metric of performance, called Plant Reliability. It measured final output against the maximum output achievable during a defined timeframe. This number, measured as a percentage, could be anywhere from 0 to 100. Each percentage point was worth a defined amount of value to the business, depending on the size and complexity of the plant. When the number went up, cost per unit went down and customer satisfaction rose. It was difficult to “game the system” and each plant could be compared to itself and other locations. Plant Reliability helped the business choose where to invest money and resources to improve performance.

After much discussion, I was able to get alignment of the leadership team to develop a metric based on the concept of Plant Reliability. The twist was that the four value streams would use the same metric to compare performance to themselves and to the other value streams. Then, we would make investments based on the opportunity identified. But only if we could somehow tie the metric into financial results.

Our value stream leaders were talking in terms of Net Present Value (NPV) when they discussed the efforts and results of their teams. In Innovation, for example, they would assign a team to work on a product idea with the expectation that it would generate future revenue. This information could be entered into a spreadsheet and the Net Present Value of the project was determined. These numbers were estimates, but the only way a project could be approved to proceed was using the analysis that determined the NPV.

Measure, Communicate, Adjust, Repeat

We decided to give NPV a try. Each value stream figured out how they would calculate it for their part of the business cycle. Once we approved the calculations, we needed to figure out a way to display it in a meaningful way and determine a target to achieve.

We created an overall NPV display board and each value stream incorporated NPV into their individual team display boards. Once this was done, we educated our teams, customers, and suppliers. Then, we started using NPV as a key discussion point when evaluating work and investment of resources. Instead of gut feel and emotion, we were now using facts and data. The allocation of resources and investment across value streams became a simpler decision to make. The business ultimately got a boost in outcomes from the results-focused behavioral change.

Words Matter

Training and Review is the second spoke on the Wheel of Sustainability. The basis for Training and Review is Training Within Industry, which was developed at the onset of World War II to quickly train inexperienced workers to produce all the necessary armaments and supplies in support of the war effort. It’s one of the reasons the US and its allies won the war.

Training Within Industry (TWI) is an extremely disciplined approach to ensure that the person doing a job learns it in the safest and productive way and never forgets the right way to do things. Recently, I had the opportunity to help a team apply TWI to a new laundry detergent line that was being installed in their factory in Ohio. The goal was to use this training approach to ensure the line started up at high-performance rates.

I had limited experience with TWI, so I did research and found a book and other materials to prepare me to deliver a winning experience for the team and the company. After reading the book about a dozen times and practicing the exercises to reinforce TWI, I was ready to facilitate my first TWI Kaizen event. The team leader and I agreed that we would follow TWI exactly as designed and not take any shortcuts.

We had 24 team members, mostly from the production floor, with a few support staff sprinkled in. On the first day, I taught the TWI approach and its key principles, including:

·        Focus must be on the learner to maximize their experience

·        Words matter

·        All training is presented from the perspective of the person doing the work, not the equipment

·        The simpler the instruction, the easier it is to follow

The Value of Different Perspectives

We practiced building standard work by making paper airplanes. This exercise illustrated how much we take for granted when we’re trying to explain what to do. From time to time, I had to correct errors in approach, as team members were getting different elements of TWI confused.

After the team successfully completed the exercise, we took a Gemba walk to identify real-life plant activities to build TWI standard workaround. As the TWI method was time-intensive, the team was directed to pick work elements that took one minute or less to accomplish.

We created six four-person sub-teams. I rotated through and coached them as they built their standard work. Because TWI was brand new to everyone on the team, each team member needed personal attention to properly build the standard work. Some caught on faster than others, and by the end of the first day, I was mentally exhausted from the coaching. I know many of the team members were tired too.

After the standard work was completed on day two, sub-teams were instructed to practice training each other using the TWI method. I planned to rotate through each sub-team to coach them through the training process. With four members on each of the six teams, they were instructed to conduct four rotations, where each team member would be able to participate as one of the four positions:

1.      Trainer – responsible to use the TWI method exactly as designed

2.      Learner – fully focused on the Trainer’s instructions and coaching

3.      Auditor – responsible to ensure the training process was followed properly

4.      Improver – responsible to look for improvements to the standard work

On my first team rotation, it was apparent that TWI wasn’t as natural as it appeared, and it took more than 40 minutes to get through one round of training (for one minute of work content). I had to step in and coach many times, as the Auditor wasn’t catching the nuances of the training process. After I completed my time with the first sub-team, I was then able to coach the second and third sub-teams before the end of the afternoon.

Knowing that I couldn’t complete all rotations before the end of the day, I brought the full team back to the meeting space and gathered their feedback. Many team members noted that it would have been nice to be corrected immediately around the TWI method, rather than waiting for me to rotate to them when available. I apologized and said I hoped that they were learning what “right” and “wrong” felt like, especially from the perspective of the Learner.

Do you really understand?

On the morning of the third day, I met with the fourth sub-team. I was in for a wake-up call, and so were they. Matt was the Trainer and Roy was the Learner. Just like the Trainers on the other three sub-teams, Matt had difficulty with the structure of the TWI. I stepped in and corrected him, and asked him if he understood my instructions. He said he did, but then made the exact same mistake in the next attempt. This went on for forty minutes. I must have corrected Matt half a dozen times. Each time, he said he understood my instructions. But he truly didn’t. I knew I had to do something, but what? Then it dawned on me.

Me: “Time out. Let’s move away from the equipment.”

Matt: “Sure thing, what’s up?”

Me: “Look, you keep telling me that you understand what I’m asking you to do.”

Matt: “Sure, I get it.”

Me: “Clearly you don’t. We need to get this right and we’re going to stay here until we do this right, even if it takes the rest of the day.”

They all looked at me as though a light had turned on – this was serious! Once I gained agreement from all four members to follow the method exactly, we started the training process again.

Focused Practice Makes Perfect

Matt was now focused. He followed the TWI method to the letter, and the training proceeded without any issues. Roy was able to concentrate on the training and demonstrated his knowledge very well. The rest of the team was able to see the value of the approach and why the words mattered. I could finally move on to the fifth and sixth sub-teams.

The rest of the event proceeded without major issues and by the end, we had not only created twenty-four TWI believers, but also developed a strategy for TWI implementation that could be supported and audited by the team and plant leadership.

When it came time to get feedback from all team members, I was pleased to hear that they appreciated the personal coaching that I provided and that my “tough love” wasn’t so tough! More than that, they realized that words really do matter, and by being focused and disciplined, they would be able to efficiently and safely train the rest of the workforce.

The Vortex

Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us. We just do what we do and deal with the problems that inevitably arise.

I facilitated a Kaizen event for a non-profit. Contributions were declining significantly. After taking a Gemba walk through the process, we identified the need to improve donor engagement. It was taking up to two months to acknowledge the highest value donations. No wonder donors were leaving in droves. Recognition was slow and not meaningful.

Two months before, I ran a workshop and donated the proceeds to Feeding America. I received a thank-you note less than thirty minutes after I sent my credit card payment. It felt good to be recognized so quickly.

We brought together a team and mapped out the donation acknowledgment process end to end. There were many points in the process where the information stalled. Of those, the worst was in the office of the VP of Finance. Information could sit in his office for weeks before anything happened. If he was busy with other duties, he might forget to take any action. A call from a disgruntled donor would restart the process.

It was so bad his office was nicknamed “The Vortex”. Things came in and were lost to the world. This Recognition of poor performance had to be turned around.

The rest of the week, the team worked on ways to eliminate The Vortex. Time was reduced from two months to six days. Unfortunately, major damage had already been done to donor trust. It will take immense effort to reverse the negative Recognition for the organization.

If Everyone’s Responsible, Nobody’s Responsible

I visited a consumer goods factory in Pennsylvania. They were profitable, but concerned their ability to service customer orders was deteriorating. I met with plant leadership and took a Gemba walk through the distribution center.

They were proud of their efforts to apply 5S. I asked Angela, the Distribution Center Manager, how they used 5S to help them service their customers. She was unsure of my question, so I posed it in a different way:

Me: “What benefits do you get by using 5S?”

Angela: “It’s cleaner in the distribution center than before we used 5S.”

Me: “It does look clean. Well done. How does that help you?”

Angela: “We don’t spend time cleaning up behind each other.”

Me: “How do you ensure it stays clean?”

Angela: “I remind our employees to use 5S and clean up after themselves daily. Sometimes they need additional reminding.”

Me: “Can you show me an example?”

We walked to a tool board. There were spaces for seven different tools. The shape of each was painted on the board. It was apparent where things were to be placed, except all tools weren’t on the board. Only two of the seven were present.

Me: “Where are the other five tools?”

Angela: “I’m not sure. People are probably using them right now.”

Me: “Can we take a look or is there someone we can ask to find out?”

Angela: “We should be able to ask anyone here. Everyone’s responsible for keeping the tool boards filled.”

Me: “I’d like to find out how that’s working.”

We found a distribution center employee and asked him if he knew where the missing tools were. He wasn’t sure. We walked to four other tool boards. Freshly painted, all were missing tools. Without an owner for the boards, there was no Accountability to keep them filled and ready for use. This led to less than effective cleaning.

During the rest of our Gemba walk, we found many more examples of how the lack of Accountability kept performance at low levels. When everyone’s responsible, nobody’s responsible. Once we identified systemic lack of Accountability as the underlying cause of low customer service levels, Angela and I chartered a Kaizen event to resolve the situation.

The Five Whys

The Five Whys is a method that can be used to understand why a change isn’t being followed. It helps you get to the root cause of any resistance or problem you observe. If you find someone doing something in a non-standard manner, ask why until you get to their motivation for doing it differently. It may take five or more whys. It could take less. Here’s a sample conversation:

Sue (Joe’s manager): “I notice you’re adjusting the equipment differently than the new procedure. Can you tell me why you are doing it this way?”

Joe: “From my many years of experience, I have found that it’s better to adjust the equipment in the order I’m doing it.”

Sue: “I know you think it’s better. Can you tell me why you think it is?”

Joe: “It’s the most comfortable and stress-free approach I know.”

Sue: “It can be uncomfortable doing something differently and it takes time to get used to something new. Can you tell me why you’re more comfortable doing it the old way?”

Joe: “It doesn’t make sense to do step 3 after step 2. Step 3 should come after step 4.”

Sue: “Why do you think step 3 should follow step 4?”

Joe: “If I do it my way, I don’t have to search for the wrench when I get to step 3. I took it out of my tool box and used it when I did step 4. Then I can carry it to do step 3.”

Sue: “Are you aware the team mounted required tools at each step? You don’t have to carry them with you anymore.”

Joe: “I didn’t know that. I guess I forgot.”

Sue: “Let me show you. See, the tools are right where you need them for each step.”

Joe: “I can’t believe I missed that. Thanks for showing me.”

Sue: “You’re welcome. Now that you know, I need you to follow the prescribed order. When you do, please let me know what you think.”

Joe: “I’ll give it a try and let you know how it goes.”

In this case, it took four whys to uncover the root cause of the issue. What else happened? Sue listened to Joe. She helped him understand the proper procedure. She reinforced the requirement to follow it, identified the benefits, and made the commitment to get his feedback.

Sue demonstrated Accountability. Joe is likely to do the right thing from now on and may communicate what happened to his co-workers. Holding yourself accountable is not always easy and can be time consuming, but the benefits outweigh the effort.