Charts the collapse of Enron and examines the role of various parties, including senior management, the board, and the auditors. Also looks at complex structures and accounting policies used to inflate both revenues and profits artificially and to conceal these from shareholders and others. Brings out key learning points on risk management, corporate governance, ethics, and controls of a complex enterprise.
The great U.K. retailer fell on hard times in 1998. In 2001, a new CEO was recruited who appears to have succeeded in turning around this world-renown company. This case examines the steps he took (strategic, structural, and recruiting key people) and highlights a series of fundamental questions that remain. Can the company regain its premium retail brand given the new competition and given the breadth of market segments that it addresses under one roof? Are the new approaches to sourcing and segmentation sound? Should the firm seriously consider reentering the international retail markets?
Designed as an overview of all aspects of the strategy process: industry analysis, positioning, dynamics and sustainability, and scope issues of corporate strategy, including vertical integration, horizontal diversification, and location issues. Ice-Fili is the largest ice cream producer in Russia in 2002, but is facing strong competition from Nestle despite its success over other multinational competitors. Contains detailed exhibits, allowing deeper analyses.
Philips is a major science-based multinational that has been restructuring since the early 1970s. This case provides an historical perspective on earlier efforts as well as a detailed description of the one pursued under Cor Boonstra, CEO from 1996 to 2001, that reorganized Philips from a product-country matrix structure into global product divisions. Closes with Boonstra's successor, Gerard Kleisterlee, facing the challenge of defining his own agenda for the company.
In the Expo98 (A) case, Julio Cardoso, an INSEAD Alumnus, is being asked to design the ticketing strategy for Expo98. He needs to analyse the objectives for the Expo and to decide what pricing strategy will meet these objectives. He can analyse the results from the Vancouver, Brisbane and Seville Expos. But as each one is different, he needs to decide what is the optimal strategy for Portugal. The (B) case gives an overview of the pricing strategy that was chosen and the results of the strategy and the Expo.
During the Fall of 2000, while stock market conditions were rapidly deteriorating, Interbrew, the world's second largest brewer, succeeded an impressive 14.1 billion euros initial public offering on Euronext Brussels, raising 3.25 billion euros to refinance its recent 3.6 billion euros acquisition of UK's second largest brewing company, Bass Brewers. However, at the time of the IPO, the acquisition of Bass Brewers was still under review by the British Government. On 3 January 2001, barely five weeks after it had gone public, Interbrew was hit with the verdict that it had to dispose Bass Brewers to an approved buyer. The stock market reacted in state of shock, wiping out 4 billion euros or 25% in shareholders' wealth. This whole set of circumstances creates a unique opportunity for students to analyse the appropriateness of Interbrew's IPO, its timing and its offering price of 33 euros. The case lends itself extremely well to discussions on the following aspects on an IPO for a large privately held company competing in a consolidating industry: (1) what does going public involve?; (2) why do companies go public?; (3) when should companies go public?; and (4) how do you price the shares of firms going public?
The case discusses how Terra Lycos is reshaping itself during the economic slowdown by diversifying its revenue stream and attempting to start selling products once offered for free. As a portal, Terra Lycos' products were, by nature, mainly information based. Can Terra Lycos succeed in transforming its products from free to pay?
Karen Barton, Zendal Pharmaceuticals' senior vice-president of human resources, was livid when COO Dave Palmer slashed her executive education budget by 75%. Without funding, there could be no in-house leadership development program, which was to be the first step toward a full-blown Zendal University. Palmer was not against bold initiatives, but sales were down 26%, and there was that $300 million debt Zendal took on when it acquired Premier Pharmaceuticals. As a result, Barton's budget wasn't the only one being cut. Palmer added that it wasn't clear what the return on investment of her proposed program--or any of her current ones for that matter--would be. Barton's analysis had been woefully short on quantitative benefits. Figuring ROI for people isn't the same as calculating the payback from a machine, Barton complained to friend and ally Carlos Freitas, head of the medical devices division. But Freitas disagreed: "If you want dollars, you have to show how you fit in with [management's] plans. You must be willing to fight for resources with the rest of us." She knew Freitas was right. She needed to make the case that doubling her budget was a smart move even in tough times. The question was, How? In R0305A and R0305Z, four commentators--Susan Burnett, an HR executive at Hewlett-Packard; Mike Morrison, dean of the University of Toyota; Noel M. Tichy, professor at the University of Michigan Business School; and David Owens, vice-president of Bausch & Lomb's corporate university--offer advice in this fictional case study.
This widely debated article now includes 14 Letters to the Editor. As information technology has grown in power and ubiquity, companies have come to view it as evermore critical to their success; their heavy spending on hardware and software clearly reflects that assumption. Chief executives routinely talk about information technology's strategic value, about how they can use IT to gain a competitive edge. But scarcity, not ubiquity, makes a business resource truly strategic--and allows companies to use it for a sustained competitive advantage. You gain an edge over rivals only by doing something that they can't. IT is the latest in a series of broadly adopted technologies--think of the railroad or the electric generator--that have reshaped industry over the past two centuries. For a brief time, these technologies created powerful opportunities for forward-looking companies. But as their availability increased and their costs decreased, they became commodity inputs. From a strategic standpoint, they no longer mattered. That's exactly what's happening to IT, and the implications are profound. In this article, HBR's Editor-at-Large Nicholas Carr suggests that IT management should, frankly, become boring. It should focus on reducing risks, not increasing opportunities. For example, companies need to pay more attention to ensuring network and data security. Even more important, they need to manage IT costs more aggressively. IT may not help you gain a strategic advantage, but it could easily put you at a cost disadvantage.
Many times, often with the best of intentions, people at work decide it's more productive to remain silent about their differences than to air them. But as new research by the authors shows, silencing doesn't smooth things over or make people more productive. It merely pushes differences beneath the surface and can set in motion powerfully destructive forces. When people stay silent about important disagreements, they can begin to fill with anxiety, anger, and resentment. As long as the conflict is unresolved, their repressed feelings remain potent, making them increasingly distrustful, self-protective, and all the more fearful that if they speak up they will be embarrassed or rejected. Their sense of insecurity grows, leading to further acts of silence, more defensiveness, and more distrust, thereby setting into motion a destructive "spiral of silence." Sooner or later, they mentally opt out. These vicious spirals of silence can be replaced with virtuous spirals of communication, but that requires individuals to find the courage to act differently and executives to create the conditions in which people will value the expression of differences.
Competition among multinationals these days is likely to be a three-dimensional game of global chess: The moves an organization makes in one market are designed to achieve goals in another in ways that aren't immediately apparent to its rivals. The authors--all management professors--call this approach "competing under strategic interdependence," or CSI. And where this interdependence exists, the complexity of the situation can quickly overwhelm ordinary analysis. Indeed, most business strategists are terrible at anticipating the consequences of interdependent choices, and they're even worse at using interdependency to their advantage. In this article, the authors offer a process for mapping the competitive landscape and anticipating how your company's moves in one market can influence its competitive interactions in others. They outline the six types of CSI campaigns--onslaughts, contests, guerrilla campaigns, feints, gambits, and harvesting--available to any multiproduct or multimarket corporation that wants to compete skillfully. Using data they collected from their studies of consumer-products companies Procter & Gamble and Unilever, the authors describe how to create CSI tables and bubble charts that present a graphical look at the competitive landscape and that may uncover previously hidden opportunities. Smaller organizations that compete with a portfolio of products in just one national or regional market may find the CSI mapping process just as useful for planning their next business moves.
Many business thinkers believe it's the role of senior managers to scan the external environment to monitor contingencies and constraints and to use that precise knowledge to modify the company's strategy and design. As these thinkers see it, managers need accurate and abundant information to carry out that role. According to that logic, it makes sense to invest heavily in systems for collecting and organizing competitive information. Another school of pundits contends that because today's complex information often isn't precise anyway, it's not worth going overboard with such investments. How information is interpreted is what should matter to top executives. The role of senior managers isn't just to make decisions; it's to set direction and motivate others in the face of ambiguities and conflicting demands. Top executives must interpret information and communicate those interpretations--they must manage meaning more than they must manage information. So which of these competing views is the right one? Research conducted by academics Sutcliffe and Weber found that how accurate senior executives are about their competitive environments is indeed less important for strategy and corresponding organizational changes than the way in which they interpret information about their environments. Investments in shaping those interpretations, therefore, may create a more durable competitive advantage than investments in obtaining and organizing more information. And what kinds of interpretations are most closely linked with high performance? Their research suggests that high performers respond positively to opportunities, yet they aren't overconfident in their abilities to take advantage of those opportunities.
You are a marketing director with $5 million to invest in customer acquisition and retention. Which customers do you acquire, and which do you retain? Up to a point, the choice is obvious: Keep the consistent big spenders and lose the erratic small ones. But what about the erratic big spenders and the consistent small ones? It's often unclear whether you should acquire or retain them and at what cost. Businesses have begun dealing with unpredictable customer behavior by following the practices of sophisticated investors who own portfolios comprising dozens of stocks with different, indeed divergent, histories and prospects. Each portfolio is diversified so as to produce the investor's desired returns at the particular level of uncertainty he or she can tolerate. Customers, too, are assets--risky assets. As with stocks, the cost of acquiring them is supposed to reflect the cash-flow values they are likely to generate. The authors explain how to construct a portfolio based on the notion that a customer's risk-adjusted lifetime value depends on its anticipated effect on the riskiness of the group it is joining. The concept of risk-adjusted lifetime value has a transforming power: For companies that rely on it, product managers will be replaced by customer managers, and the current method of accounting for profit and loss--which is by product--will be replaced by one that determines each customer's P&L. Once adjusted for risk, those P&Ls will become the firm's key performance and operational metric.
Imagine what an extra $100 billion a year could do for philanthropic and other nonprofit institutions. According to a new study, the nonprofit sector could free that amount--maybe even more--by making five changes in the way it operates. The study asked two central questions: Does the sector's money flow from its source to its ultimate use as efficiently and effectively as possible? If not, where are the big opportunities to increase social benefit? According to former Senator Bill Bradley and McKinsey's Paul Jansen and Les Silverman, nonprofits could save roughly $25 billion a year by changing the way they raise funds. By distributing funds more quickly, they could put an extra $30 billion to work. Organizations could generate more than $60 billion a year by streamlining and restructuring the way in which they provide services and by reducing administrative costs. And they could free up even more money--an amount impossible to estimate--by better allocating funds among service providers. The authors admit that making those changes won't be easy. The nonprofit world, historically seen as a collection of locally focused charities, has become an enormous sector, but it lacks the managerial processes and incentives that help keep the for-profit world on track. And when the baby boomers start to retire in less than a decade, public budgets will be squeezed even more than they are today. If the nonprofit sector is to help the nation cope with the stresses ahead, it must become more efficient and challenge its traditional concepts of stewardship.
Harrah's Entertainment may not offer the most dazzling casinos in the business, but it is the most profitable gaming company in the United States. Since 1998, Harrah's has recorded 16 straight quarters of same-store revenue growth. It boasts the most devoted clientele in the casino industry, a business notorious for fickle customers. In this article, Harrah's Entertainment CEO and former Harvard Business School Professor Gary Loveman explains how his company has trumped its competitors by mining customer data, running experiments using customer information, and using the findings to develop and implement marketing strategies that keep customers coming back for more. Harrah's identified its best customers--who were not typical high rollers--and taught them to respond to the casino's marketing efforts in a way that added to their individual value. The company's customer preference data were collected through its Total Rewards incentive program; in addition, it used decision-science-based analytical tools and database marketing. This deep data mining has succeeded because Harrah's has simultaneously maintained its focus on satisfying its customers. Loveman outlines the specific strategies and employee-performance measures that Harrah's uses to nurture customer loyalty across its 26 casinos.
Making high-stakes business decisions has always been hard. But in recent decades, it's become tougher than ever. The choices facing managers and the data requiring analysis have multiplied even as the time for analyzing them has shrunk. One simple decision-making tool, human intuition, seems to offer a reliable alternative to painstaking fact gathering and analysis. Encouraged by scientific research on intuition, top managers feel increasingly confident that, when faced with complicated choices, they can just trust their gut. The trust in intuition is understandable. But it's also dangerous. Intuition has its place in decision making--you should not ignore your instincts any more than you should ignore your conscience--but anyone who thinks that intuition is a substitute for reason is indulging in a romantic delusion. Detached from rigorous analysis, intuition is a fickle and undependable guide. And although some have argued that intuition becomes more valuable in highly complex and changeable environments, the opposite is actually true. The more options you have to evaluate, the more data you have to weigh, and the more unprecedented the challenges you face, the less you should rely on instinct and the more on reason and analysis. So how do you analyze more in less time? The answer may lie in technology. Powerful new decision-support tools can help executives quickly sort through vast numbers of alternatives and pick the best ones. When combined with the experience, insight, and analytical skills of a good management team, these tools offer companies a way to make consistently sound and rational choices even in the face of bewildering complexity--a capability that intuition will never match.
Karen Barton, Zendal Pharmaceuticals' senior vice-president of human resources, was livid when COO Dave Palmer slashed her executive education budget by 75%. Without funding, there could be no in-house leadership development program, which was to be the first step toward a full-blown Zendal University. Palmer was not against bold initiatives, but sales were down 26%, and there was that $300 million debt Zendal took on when it acquired Premier Pharmaceuticals. As a result, Barton's budget wasn't the only one being cut. Palmer added that it wasn't clear what the return on investment of her proposed program--or any of her current ones for that matter--would be. Barton's analysis had been woefully short on quantitative benefits. Figuring ROI for people isn't the same as calculating the payback from a machine, Barton complained to friend and ally Carlos Freitas, head of the medical devices division. But Freitas disagreed: "If you want dollars, you have to show how you fit in with [management's] plans. You must be willing to fight for resources with the rest of us." She knew Freitas was right. She needed to make the case that doubling her budget was a smart move even in tough times. The question was, How? In R0305A and R0305Z, four commentators--Susan Burnett, an HR executive at Hewlett-Packard; Mike Morrison, dean of the University of Toyota; Noel M. Tichy, professor at the University of Michigan Business School; and David Owens, vice-president of Bausch & Lomb's corporate university--offer advice on this fictional case study.
Karen Barton, Zendal Pharmaceuticals' senior vice-president of human resources, was livid when COO Dave Palmer slashed her executive education budget by 75%. Without funding, there could be no in-house leadership development program, which was to be the first step toward a full-blown Zendal University. Palmer was not against bold initiatives, but sales were down 26%, and there was that $300 million debt Zendal took on when it acquired Premier Pharmaceuticals. As a result, Barton's budget wasn't the only one being cut. Palmer added that it wasn't clear what the return on investment of her proposed program--or any of her current ones for that matter--would be. Barton's analysis had been woefully short on quantitative benefits. Figuring ROI for people isn't the same as calculating the payback from a machine, Barton complained to friend and ally Carlos Freitas, head of the medical devices division. But Freitas disagreed: "If you want dollars, you have to show how you fit in with [management's] plans. You must be willing to fight for resources with the rest of us." She knew Freitas was right. She needed to make the case that doubling her budget was a smart move even in tough times. The question was, How? In R0305A and R0305Z, four commentators--Susan Burnett, an HR executive at Hewlett-Packard; Mike Morrison, dean of the University of Toyota; Noel M. Tichy, professor at the University of Michigan Business School; and David Owens, vice-president of Bausch & Lomb's corporate university--offer advice on this fictional case study.
On October 21, 2001, a postal worker from a mail sorting facility in Washington, DC, died of inhalation anthrax-a disease virtually unseen for a century. The next day, a second employee from the same facility died. Fear of anthrax had already infected the public: media workers in Florida and New York City had contracted the disease. In addition, Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle (D-SD) had received an anthrax-laden letter, his staff were all on antibiotics, and the Senate and House of Representatives buildings had closed for anthrax tests. This new threat re-ignited a sense of public panic. Virtually overnight, the United States Postal Service (USPS) found itself at the eye of a national security and public health storm. This case discusses how the USPS dealt with the anthrax crisis. HKS Case Number 1692.0.