The cost of restructuring is too high

In Wellington, restructuring seems to be the only game in town. Many organisations are in disarray after two or three years of constant change. Traditionally, when counting the cost of restructures, the focus is on the redundancy payment. However, in the public sector, many more costs should be taken into account. These include: lost productivity, lost institutional knowledge and lost goodwill. These are the very attributes that enable an organisation to run effectively. While productivity can be regained, institutional knowledge rebuilt and goodwill restored (all over time), I think the public sector is now entering dangerous territory: we are losing future generations of leaders.

Ponder a moment the personal cost to public servants. Many are motivated by the intrinsic value of the work they do: they are there because they care about delivering vital services to the people of New Zealand. When you take that ability away, you lose much more than just an FTE, a bum on a seat, a headcount. You lose the goodwill of people who are true public servants. While some return as contractors, at double the cost to when they were merely permanent employees, we don't simply get the same skills for more: we get a disengagement from the future of the organisation, a determination to do merely the job at hand (no matter its value) and a constant loss of institutional knowledge as these people move to the next organisation and the next short-term job.

I know too many people (disconcertingly, mainly women) who have found themselves on the outer. These are the very people who had the integrity to stand up to their managers and challenge the need for the restructures, who put forward alternatives, the people who cared about their staff and the work they were doing. Often, when given a chance to take stock, these women and men are reconsidering their work-life balance, they find they can survive on a reduced income, can be there for their children, can move to a smaller town without the Wellington wind, can retire. We have lost too many of these people already but these are the very people who could lead organisations effectively in the future.

The current round of restructuring has caused pain: it has cost money, productivity, institutional knowledge, goodwill. We need several years now to regain, rebuild and restore. To get back to zero. However, the future of the public sector looks even more bleak: we have removed many of the people who would have been senior leaders in the short term and in the future. Without a cohort of experienced, effective, New Zealand public sector managers to lead our way into the future, what will we have instead?

When Change Happens

Those who know me, know I have been through a huge amount of change in my life. Sometimes it was something I chose, other times it was chosen for me. I’ve been completely broke a couple of times – once ending up living in my friend’s driveway in a caravan. I’ve lost everything in a house fire. I have been through a marriage breakup, become a single Mum and walked away from a salaried job to work and live on the road.

For me, change is a constant – I have reset myself so many times that it hardly features any more. Right now, I’m sitting pretty, a good job, a nice house, money to spend on overseas trips. This is a place I have never been before, and while it is nice, it could change at any moment. But I’ll be fine.

A few days ago, I wrote a few paragraphs on change for a friend of mine. She’s going through some fundamental change and is right in the middle of that hardest patch – when you feel like you have been kicked in the stomach and head simultaneously, everything that gave you stability in your life has moved and you feel totally alone. I kind of like the paragraphs, so thought I’d share them a little more widely.

 

When you go through change…

When change is happening, sometimes the hardest thing to cope with is that sense of loss – of hopes, dreams, status… At times like these you have to be brutal in your stocktake of who you are and where you are. Once you know who you are, and have a realistic understanding of your strengths, weaknesses and supports, you can start to move forward.

What is your position right now? Is this position sustainable? Can you build your way from here or do you need to make some more, final changes first. It may feel like stepping down and losing a lot of things you have worked hard for, but you have to let go of that feeling.

Reset yourself, your plans, hopes and dreams. Focus on what is good – your family, friends and skills – then brush off your wings. You may fly at a lower altitude for a little while, but once you are steady again, you will achieve so much more than you previously dreamed.

When Change Happens

Those who know me, know I have been through a huge amount of change in my life. Sometimes it was something I chose, other times it was chosen for me. I’ve been completely broke a couple of times – once ending up living in my friend’s driveway in a caravan. I’ve lost everything in a house fire. I have been through a marriage breakup, become a single Mum and walked away from a salaried job to work and live on the road.

For me, change is a constant – I have reset myself so many times that it hardly features any more. Right now, I’m sitting pretty, a good job, a nice house, money to spend on overseas trips. This is a place I have never been before, and while it is nice, it could change at any moment. But I’ll be fine.

A few days ago, I wrote a few paragraphs on change for a friend of mine. She’s going through some fundamental change and is right in the middle of that hardest patch – when you feel like you have been kicked in the stomach and head simultaneously, everything that gave you stability in your life has moved and you feel totally alone. I kind of like the message, so thought I’d share them a little more widely.

When change is happening, sometimes the hardest thing to cope with is that sense of loss – of hopes, dreams, status… At times like these you have to be brutal in your stocktake of who you are and where you are. Once you know who you are, and have a realistic understanding of your strengths, weaknesses and supports, you can start to move forward.

What is your position right now? Is this position sustainable? Can you build your way from here or do you need to make some more, final changes first. It may feel like stepping down and losing a lot of things you have worked hard for, but you have to let go of that feeling.

Reset yourself, your plans, hopes and dreams. Focus on what is good – your family, friends and skills – then brush off your wings. You may fly at a lower altitude for a little while, but once you are steady again, you will achieve so much more than you previously dreamed.

Changing the world

 

New Zealand is in trouble. There is a growing gap between the wealthy and the poor, generations who have never worked and alcohol, drugs and violence being a way of life for some. There is a sense of entitlement from some, that ‘the government’ should fund their lifestyle. This has been a problem that has steadily grown over the last forty years. Successive governments have implemented initiatives designed to address the problem – some focusing on youth, some on families and some on communities. But the problem has continued to grow. Should we condemn these people? Put more of them in prison? Cut benefits if they don’t go out and get jobs? Force the truants back to school? What has happened to these people that they don’t feel a part of society, that they are excluded, unable to contribute productively to the New Zealand community? We could.  But I’m not convinced that this will address the real problems. And none of the solutions above addresses the real problems. We don’t need more punishment. We need transformational change.

Is it possible with our current public management system, to implement transformational change?

The late 1980s saw major change in government, from a hierarchical, process driven, job for life public service to ‘new public management’ – specification of inputs, outputs and outcomes, measurement, accountability taken to new levels, responsibility for departments given to chief executives who hold five-year contracts. The aim is to be more prudent with public money. Agency theory was a driving force for the changes in the 1980s, with its strong economic base, requirement for specification above all else and central problem of correcting information asymmetry. Relationships were defined in terms of the power relationship, which was always unequal. The results have included a fragmentation of services, over specification and onerous reporting requirements. Working together in partnership – with other agencies, with non-government organisations or even with clients – is the exception rather than the rule.

The approaches based on agency theory has not improved the lives of many of our most vulnerable citizens. Often, the kind of services that will assist people to transform their lives are not those that can be easily measured or counted. Transforming lives means working with people on their aspirations, developing new behaviours, new skills, new ways. Progress cannot be measured by counting the number of appointments kept.

What can change? Government agencies could work together better, could work with non-government organisations in a more productive way, could work with clients in a different way. Why, if we have a major problem in New Zealand society, don’t we? Many evaluation studies and other research have told us that the reason, for example, children fall through the cracks is that government agencies do not work together.

I think there is something about the fundamental principles of the system that form the barriers. Something about agency theory, which rewards individual results and does not reward working together. However much departments are told to – and know they should – work together, the current public management system is set up in a way that actively discourages it.

I’m now winding into my second year of a doctorate. At the end of this year, I will have a proposal for research. I want to figure out whether there is a better way, whether there are approaches – and system changes that could start to address these fundamental issues facing New Zealand society.

I’m ok, personally. I earn enough to keep myself rather nicely, and so does the vast majority of my family. However, I do not want to live in a country where all people cannot reach their potential. I do not want to see a vast gap between the haves and the have-nots. It is not acceptable to me that the family in which you are born dictates the station you will reach in life. The only way I can see to contribute is to do the research and to live my life in a way that is true to my values. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to work on changing what little bit of the world I can.

How do you know what is real?

Headlines in today's Sunday Star-Times: 'Science is only now proving what natural health practitioners say they have known for years'. http://www.stuff.co.nz/sunday-star-times/features/4944581/Making-better-babies

The story pits Peter Gluckman, chief science advisor to the Prime Minister, against Loula George, Naturopath. Peter Gluckman announced the other day that he had discovered a link between a mother's diet during pregnancy and the chances of her baby later being obese. Loula's reaction: well, duh, we know that already.

But do we? In Peter Gluckman's world, this was 'the most important finding of my career and means that, for the first time ever there was a way of working out what a mother should eat'. This was new knowledge. He 'wasn't sure naturopaths have much to contribute to this matter. It's not evidence-based science. Belief and knowledge are two different things.'

This article highlights the chasm between objectivism where knowledge can only be proven by recognised scientific methods, and subjectivism, where there is no one reality, no one answer.

Peter Gluckman dismisses naturopaths out of hand - they work on a belief system - not a knowledge system. Their ways are pseudo-science, hocus pocus, witch doctory, quackery.

To the naturopath, it is not that simple - what Loula George has been doing for over 20 years has shown good results in her patients. It is common sense to eat well before and during pregnancy so that your baby has the best chance of being born healthy. Science doesn't need to prove anything to tell us that.

So how do we really know something? Do we need absolute, replicable, measurable proof? This seems to be Peter Gluckman's argument. But how real is this? Can we expect that gradually science will give us all the answers about how the world really works?

Don't get me wrong, I think that science has given us some pretty cool stuff - electricity, computers, technology, cars. But I'm not convinced that science is the total answer when we are dealing with something as unique and sensitive as our own selves.

Western medicine is based on science. Objective, positive science. A medicine is only approved once it has been through clinical - scientific, replicable, provable, trials.

But do we know everything we possibly can know about medicine? The scientists will agree with the non-scientists that we do not. The difference is in our approach to developing more knowledge. While scientists will work in laboratories to build on the absolute proofs they have already, others will seek alternative forms of therapy, based on alternative forms of knowledge.

Many of these are based on close observation of individuals, and have centuries of history. Alternative practitioners have theories which guide how they approach a patient. Many of these approaches focus on identifying and implementing treatment that is right for that individual in front of them. Defining treatment may be based on science, on beliefs, or a mixture of the two. And many, many people will tell you that the various approaches work for them.

So why does Peter Gluckman dismiss this knowledge out of hand as a quackery? And how many people out there will only visit traditional medical practitioners because of some fear that what will be prescribed for them will be witch-doctory of some kind? I'm not convinced that our traditional medical practitioners have all the answers. Like all other areas of our lives, I believe that medicine should be a combination of science - provable facts - and beliefs / best guesses / approaches that work.

Don't dismiss alternative practitioners out of hand. Find out more about them, about their approaches, about their beliefs and knowledge. It might surprise you how much they know.

Around Taupo to DGov

First, I've got to share what my sister said when I said (via text) 'I've been accepted! I'm doing a PhD! Her response... 'a what?'. A what?

Its only about six weeks later that I really have started to think 'a what'. Study wasn't really on my horizon this time last year. Or even this time three months ago.

Don't get me wrong, I finished my masters and thought it was pretty cool. I really enjoyed the research part where I went out and talked with all these passionate people who made me think, rethink and think again about what evaluation is and how you can get better value out of it in government. I know, most of you will go 'a what?'. But for me, evaluation is one of the most powerful tools a government can use to really fix in on making things work really well - and stopping doing the stuff that doesn't work well. And a lot of the time the effort and money that goes into evaluation in government is wasted. So I had a look at why. And I came up with some answers.

Anyway, most of you probably stopped back there. And the purpose of this blog is to share why on earth I've signed up to do six years of study. It's not about getting to be called 'Dr' at the end of it. Really its not. Well, that's not the biggest part.

For me, the Doctorate of Government fits for me right now. Its a practical course, designed to be undertaken alongside a full-time job in government. Now, I've never conceived of the notion of being anything less than a full-time worker. It's my security but even more than that, it's my sanity. So doing study at the same time as working suited me. And doing a doctorate... wow, what an opportunity.

I wonder how much my excitement for this is similar to what I felt about doing Taupo. Taupo, for me, challenged me beyond belief. It gave me a whole new perspective on what was possible and what I could push my body to do. There was science involved - what to eat, what to wear, how to ride. But there was something much more visceral than that - it caused a fundamental change in the way I view myself, my body and my mind.

So, a few weeks ago I did the Graperide. What a fantastic ride that was. I wasn't well, I woke up in the morning saying 'I'll pull out, I've been coughing all night, I feel bad, I won't do it'. Needless to say, I didn't have a choice. The rough advice was 'start it, if you need to stop, they have people who can bring you back'. So I was out of bed and on the bike before I knew it. My time for the Graperide wasn't that good. 4 hours 38 from memory, for 101kms. My main problem was a sore back - my new bike hadn't quite been set up right for me and it had aggravated a weak point - my back. But a lot of the time I was having a ball - riding in a bunch hitting a steady 32-35km/h - a huge improvement over Taupo.

So anyway, back to the DGov. This wasn't really a decision I took. When I got the offer of study, there was no question in my mind that this was the right thing for me. I don't even recall a decision on whether or not to apply - it just happened.

Is it that I'm so much more confident now that I can do anything I put my mind to? At times, my heart stops, thinking about how much work I will be doing in the next six years. But then my natural optimism kicks in, and reminds me how much fun I will have doing it, and then, how proud I will be of myself when I finish (there is no if in finish - its a definite when - I can see it all now). And I think it is a great thing for my daughter to see me do.

The DGov, like Taupo, will take a lot of hard work and commitment. But I know I will make some good friends along the way, learn a heap of stuff that is really fascinating and it will change the way I look at the world. What more could anyone ask for?

Pathway to Taupo

It was a series of coincidences that sent me on this journey. Cycling had become a way of life - albeit a very small one. I cycled to work and home, nearly every day. It began as frustration - driving to work meant a daily payment for parking; walking to work meant a long walk, after dropping a child at daycare. I watched in envy as the cyclists passed me on Oriental Parade - for them, a ten minute commute: for me, 40 minutes.

One morning, high in an apartment looking over Oriental Bay I spied an advertisement in the newspaper. $199.00 for a bike at The Warehouse. Now, money was short, but $200 was feasible. So I did it, I bought the bike.

I then set myself a challenge. Ride to work 30 times, and a new bike - a decent bike would be in order. It took a long, long time. The first few times, I didn't think I would make it. The wind around The Bays is awful - very hard on a beginner. The showers at work were a welcome, and necessary blessing.

30 rides down, and I started looking for a real bike. A friend counselled me that an Avanti Blade Sport would be the one - an entry level road bike, built especially for commuters. I bought it.

After about three years of riding around the Bays to work, I moved. To Karori. Karori is at the top of a very large hill. I took up walking to work (it was closer), and put away the bike. It wasn't the hill that scared me, it was riding down the hill. Too steep. Too fast.

Eventually I gave it a go. Rode to work - very slowly. Almost wore out the brakes that day. That evening I set off for home. 55 minutes later I arrived - absolutely drenched in sweat and worn out. I'd walked a fair distance.

But I kept at it, managed to get my time up the hill to 25 minutes - riding all the way, even the last bit which was a huge effort.

Last year, I'd thought I could have a go at the Taupo race - 40kms, a huge challenge. But I piked out. Not enough training. Not enough time.

This year though, I spotted a poster at my chiropractors - join Gearshifters - train for Taupo. A training group. Hmmmmmm. I checked out the website, sent an email. 'Sorry to see you are booked out, but I'm keen to join for your next training group'. I received one back - there was space for me!

So I joined. Paid my money. With not a little trepidation.

13 weeks to Taupo. It didn't start well. The first group ride I had another commitment, so I rode to Johnsonville the week before. It was HARD. 22kms, and I was a gibbering wreck. I called for pickup.

Then I did start with the group, and discovered a bent for hills. That was after I discovered this great spray stuff of caffiene and taurine. A spray or two of that, and I was good to go!

Some training rides were great, but a couple were really hard. The last few long ones, I struggled. I found it exceptionally hard on the flat. So I decided to do 80kms instead of the full Taupo. Then my relay rider pulled out, and I found another one. Then I got sick. Out for two days with a chest infection, which turned into two weeks off the bike. Then another ride and that was really hard. 86kms, flat, everything I struggled with.

I went home and declared I wouldn't do it. I wasn't well enough. I would go as support only, and not attempt the lake this year. After all, I had learnt huge amounts in the training, and didn't need to actually do the race.

I'd booked my bike in for a fitting anyway, and still did that. And found it made a huge difference - when I got back on the bike after 3 weeks off. That was the Thursday. 8 minutes down the hill and I was a convert - I could do it! I walked into work, announced my new decision - that I would do the full 160kms. Friday we loaded up the bike and drove to Taupo.

Taupo: 160kms. 27 hills - three of them hard ones. 160kms - the equivalent of Auckland to Whangarei - or Auckland to Hamilton and nearly back again. I'd had three weeks off the bike. I hadn't ridden further than 86kms in one go, and the 86km ride had left me shattered.

Leppin. Muesli bars. Water. My magic caffiene / taurine spray. Sunscreen. 9.30am (or close to it), Group 8 was let out of the start line. An early crash quietened the group a little, and soon enough there was just me and my mate riding together. Mr Positive he was - and boy did I need it.

The countryside was just beautiful. The bike was... OK. At first we stopped only at the water stations - about every 20kms or so. Then I started stopping just a little earlier - twice I stopped for a breather then rode around the corner and discovered a sign: '200m to water station'. So I rode 200m, then stopped again for a refill and a chat.

Towards the 80km mark, halfway around the lake, I was doubting myself. How could I possibly spend another four or five hours on the bike? The sun was wicked - we had resorted to shade stops every now and then. Then we got to 80kms. Faster to carry on around than to go back was the call. One woman loaded her bike on the back of the mechanic's van, and hopped in. She was done. I looked, thought about it, then with some encouragement from Mr Positive, got back on the bike.

That last stop was at the top of Waihi Hill. A sign there read 'caution, long downhill'. Caution? Caution? I was dying for a long downhill! This hill wasn't taken as fast as some of the others. There were a few 35 and 45km corners, and I didn't want to fall off any time soon. Down we went, then along the long, long flat towards Turangi.

Off the hill it didn't seem so hot. The long flat ride had been dreaded a bit, but great company kept me going. We still stopped now and again, more often than we should have, but often enough to keep the pain away. Only 80kms, two small bumps, then Hatepe. Don't think about Hatepe, the signs kept on saying. Sure thing.

But then, we saw it. Not huge, not the biggest hill I've tackled. The first few hundred metres were ok, but then a rest was in order. I looked back and forward - only one other rider - Mr Positive - cycled all the way up that hill. A few (possibly hundred) metres of walking, then I regained my seat and cycled to the top. Phew. Only 25kms to go.

That last 25kms took a good hour. Yes, it was flat with bits of downhill. But slow. The legs just weren't pushing the bike hard enough to get momentum. But, with a few more stops, we found ourselves on the outskirts of Taupo. Last seen that morning.

The end of the road was nigh. 10 hours on the bike, a bit of a sunburn, a sore butt, weak legs, but 160kms behind me. Three of us rode in together - Mr Positive who stayed with me the whole way around, and another who had joined us around the 80km mark. We did it - 10 hours and six minutes was my official time - a long way past the 7 or 8 hours that I had hoped for. But I had pushed my body much, much further than I had ever pushed it before.

Wow - me - from couch potato to Taupo cycle challenge completer.

Will I go back? You betcha! I'm going to shave an hour off my time, and cycle all of Hatepe hill. Roll on 2011!