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Executives stay with an organization for only 3.3 years, on average. But does switching employers offer a fast-track to the top jobs? Research suggests the answer is no. In fact, that's one of four career fallacies identified in a study examining how managers get ahead. Fallacy 1: Job hoppers prosper. An analysis of the career histories of 1,001 CEOs and 14,000 non-CEOs in top corporations shows that the more years executives stay with the company, the faster they make it to the top. Lesson: Build a resume that demonstrates a balance between external and internal moves. Fallacy 2: A move should be a move up. Among the executives studied, about 40% of job changes were promotions, 40% were lateral, and 25% were demotions. Lesson: While a downward move will detract from your CV, a lateral move can often lead to a promotion or enhance your CV when the new company conveys brand value. Fallacy 3: Big fish swim in big ponds. When making a move, 64% of executives trade down to smaller, less-recognized firms. They gain better titles or positions, cashing in on the brand value of their former employer. Lesson: Join top companies as early in your career as you can, and transfer to a lesser company only if the job is very attractive. Fallacy 4: Career and industry switchers are penalized. It's not always a bad move to change industries, or even careers, as is often assumed. Firms hire employees from different businesses for many reasons: For example, another industry might simply offer superior human capital. Lesson: Look for industries where your skills represent a genuine asset. Every career is unique; what's important is to look at each move with a critical eye.

TelZip, a small mobile-network operator, has decided to shake up the European telecommunications market by offering "free forever" broadband service to customers who sign a long-term contract with the company. Meridicom, the dominant industry player, must decide how to respond. Joe Ulan, the incumbent's new chief marketing officer, gets conflicting advice: The product division heads don't like the idea of discounting their products or even of working together; the sales director wants to kill the competition with a price war. How can Joe turn this attack into an opportunity? Marco Bertini and Nirmalya Kumar, of London Business School, present this fictional case to explore the question, "What do you do when one of your small competitors pulls out its big gun?" Two experts comment on the case in R1007R and R1007Z. Georg Tacke, of Simon-Kucher & Partners, argues that simply matching a small competitor's prices is the worst reaction. Anne Gro Gulla, of Telenor Group, suggests creating offshoots of the main firm that might cannibalize the mother brand but avoid the greater evil of allowing it to be eaten alive by outsiders. HBR's online readers also offer their two cents. You can, too.

The inventor of the bagless vacuum cleaner talks about what innovation means to him and why experience is overrated.

TelZip, a small mobile-network operator, has decided to shake up the European telecommunications market by offering "free forever" broadband service to customers who sign a long-term contract with the company. Meridicom, the dominant industry player, must decide how to respond. Joe Ulan, the incumbent's new chief marketing officer, gets conflicting advice: The product division heads don't like the idea of discounting their products or even of working together; the sales director wants to kill the competition with a price war. How can Joe turn this attack into an opportunity? Marco Bertini and Nirmalya Kumar, of London Business School, present this fictional case to explore the question, "What do you do when one of your small competitors pulls out its big gun?" Two experts comment on the case in R1007R and R1007Z. Georg Tacke, of Simon-Kucher & Partners, argues that simply matching a small competitor's prices is the worst reaction. Anne Gro Gulla, of Telenor Group, suggests creating offshoots of the main firm that might cannibalize the mother brand but avoid the greater evil of allowing it to be eaten alive by outsiders. HBR's online readers also offer their two cents. You can, too.

TelZip, a small mobile-network operator, has decided to shake up the European telecommunications market by offering "free forever" broadband service to customers who sign a long-term contract with the company. Meridicom, the dominant industry player, must decide how to respond. Joe Ulan, the incumbent's new chief marketing officer, gets conflicting advice: The product division heads don't like the idea of discounting their products or even of working together; the sales director wants to kill the competition with a price war. How can Joe turn this attack into an opportunity? Marco Bertini and Nirmalya Kumar, of London Business School, present this fictional case to explore the question, "What do you do when one of your small competitors pulls out its big gun?" Two experts comment on the case in R1007R and R1007Z. Georg Tacke, of Simon-Kucher & Partners, argues that simply matching a small competitor's prices is the worst reaction. Anne Gro Gulla, of Telenor Group, suggests creating offshoots of the main firm that might cannibalize the mother brand but avoid the greater evil of allowing it to be eaten alive by outsiders. HBR's online readers also offer their two cents. You can, too.

In 2004 the biggest problem the online shoe retailer Zappos faced was how to staff its customer call center with dedicated, high-caliber service reps. The company's headquarters were in San Francisco, where the high cost of living-and the upwardly mobile Silicon Valley mentality-deterred people from making customer service a career. Although it is an internet company, Zappos finds that most customers telephone at least once at some point. Its philosophy is to view every one of the thousands of phone calls and e-mails it receives daily as an opportunity to build the very best customer service into the brand. To do that, Zappos would need to find call center reps elsewhere. But the outsourcing possibilities were disappointing, and the company's previous experience with using vendors for warehousing and shipping had been poor. Hsieh and his team realized that customer service should permeate the whole company, not just one department. So they decided to move their headquarters to Las Vegas, a 24/7 city where employees are used to working late hours and the economy is focused on hospitality. Surprisingly, more than 75% of the staff was willing to relocate, and the company culture became even stronger as a result of the move. Although Amazon now owns Zappos-which has expanded into clothing, housewares, cosmetics, and other items-Hsieh's customer service still strives to make a personal connection with shoppers. He calls the Zappos reps the best in the world.

Harvard Business School's Christensen teaches aspiring MBAs how to apply management and innovation theories to build stronger companies. But he also believes that these models can help people lead better lives. In this article, he explains how, exploring questions everyone needs to ask: How can I be happy in my career? How can I be sure that my relationship with my family is an enduring source of happiness? And how can I live my life with integrity? The answer to the first question comes from Frederick Herzberg's assertion that the most powerful motivator isn't money; it's the opportunity to learn, grow in responsibilities, contribute, and be recognized. That's why management, if practiced well, can be the noblest of occupations; no others offer as many ways to help people find those opportunities. It isn't about buying, selling, and investing in companies, as many think. The principles of resource allocation can help people attain happiness at home. If not managed masterfully, what emerges from a firm's resource allocation process can be very different from the strategy management intended to follow. That's true in life too: If you're not guided by a clear sense of purpose, you're likely to fritter away your time and energy on obtaining the most tangible, short-term signs of achievement, not what's really important to you. And just as a focus on marginal costs can cause bad corporate decisions, it can lead people astray. The marginal cost of doing something wrong "just this once" always seems alluringly low. You don't see the end result to which that path leads. The key is to define what you stand for and draw the line in a safe place.

Because managers hold a status in society similar to that of doctors and lawyers, it is natural to think of business as a profession-and of business schools as professional schools. But, argues Barker, a professor at Cambridge University's Judge Business School, that can lead to inappropriate analysis and misguided perceptions. We turn to professionals for advice, he writes, because they have knowledge that we don't. We trust their advice because they've been guaranteed by professional associations that establish the boundaries of the field and reach consensus on what body of learning is required for formal training and certification. These associations make a market for professional services feasible. Although business schools might be able to reach consensus on what they should teach, the proper question is whether what they teach qualifies students to manage. After all, successful businesses are commonly run by people without MBAs. Managers' roles are inherently general, variable, and indefinable; their core skill is to integrate across functional areas, groups of people, and circumstances. Integration is learned in the minds of MBA students, whose experiences and careers are widely diverse, rather than taught in the content of program modules. Thus business education must be highly collaborative, with grading downplayed, and learning must differ according to the stage of a student's career. Business schools are not professional schools. They are incubators for business leadership.

The realization of a strategy depends on countless employees. So it's no surprise that when a strategy fails, the reason cited is usually poor execution. But this view of strategy and execution relies on a false metaphor in which senior management is a choosing brain while those in the rest of the company are choiceless arms and legs that merely carry out the brain's bidding. The approach does damage to the corporation because it alienates the people working for it. A better metaphor for strategy is a white-water river, in which choices cascade from its source in the mountains (the corporation) to its mouth (the rest of the organization). Executives at the top make the broader choices involving longterm investments while empowering employees toward the bottom to make more concrete, day-to-day decisions that directly influence customer service and satisfaction. For the cascade to flow properly, a choice maker upstream can set the context for those downstream by doing four things: explaining what the choice is and why it's been made, clearly identifying the next downstream choice, offering help with making choices as needed, and committing to revisit and adjust the choice based on feedback. When downstream choices are valued and feedback is encouraged, employees send information upward, improving the knowledge base of decision makers higher up and helping everyone in the organization make better choices.

In a recent survey, HBR readers told us how well they think strategy is developed in their organizations, which obstacles get in the way of effective execution, what kind of impact the financial downturn has had, and more.

This is an MIT Sloan Management Review article. Many companies are well aware of the need to make their businesses more sustainable but stumble badly in making that transition. Often they mistakenly assume that the sustainability initiative will require a single, sustained effort over years when, in fact, it will entail three distinct phases, each needing different leadership skills on the part of the executive heading the effort. In phase 1, the sustainability leader must be able to communicate a compelling vision and gain buy-in from key opinion formers in the organization. In addition, the leader must help identify, define and develop a specific set of business processes that are geared to manage previously unquantified risks and capture new opportunities. When a company emerges from phase 1, commercial orientation becomes the key competence. Now the task is to translate high-level commitments into a comprehensive change program with clearly defined initiatives and hard commercial targets. To make this happen, sustainability leaders in phase 2 must excel at delivering results, and they must have a strong commercial awareness. At the end of this phase, sustainability becomes an organization-wide imperative that is tracked through economic, environmental and social metrics over the business planning cycle. In phase 3, the need for commercial orientation continues unabated but is matched by a strong strategic orientation. The sustainability leader must be adept at anticipating and evaluating long-term sustainability trends, spotting new opportunities and developing strategies to reposition the organization to benefit from them. The goal is to have sustainability become embedded in the organization's DNA, such that it is a core value and the organization is unconsciously proactive about it.

This is an MIT Sloan Management Review article. Information systems are traditionally designed to impose structure on processes, while innovation activities require a tolerance for ambiguity and failure and the flexibility to redefine goals when opportunities or roadblocks arise. Yet the potential of information systems to improve the innovation process is too great to dismiss them out of hand. Undertaking research to learn how leading innovators have used IT to make their innovation activities more effective and efficient, the authors found that companies require three things in order to do so. First, they need specific IT-enabled organizational capabilities, which are formed by combining their IT assets with non-IT assets to enable the across-the-board processes essential to developing and applying innovations. Second, companies need a strong set of IT-based tools to effectively sustain the central activities required for innovation and to support the analytical work that innovators need to transform ideas into products, processes and services. Third, companies need a system of control that allows workers to access and use the IT resources effectively. The authors'research provides numerous lessons for an organization's innovation leaders, IT managers and top leadership -- particularly the CEO. The primary lesson for innovators, for example, is that the IT department can be an active partner in innovation, not an enemy. When all of these stakeholders understand the role that information technology can play in streamlining and accelerating the innovation process, a company will be well on its way toward producing more innovations, and better innovations, with the resources at its disposal.

This is an MIT Sloan Management Review article. Established companies in industries as diverse as airlines, media, and banking have seen their markets invaded by new disruptive business models. The newcomers succeed not only by stealing customers from the established firms but also by attracting new customers into the market. As a result, established companies need to decide how to keep their existing customers while taking advantage of the new ones. One options is to use existing business models to cater for both markets. Another is to develop a new business model specifically for the new market. This is not an easy decision because entering a new market can be risky. But if a firm decides to do so, it must decide on what business model to adopt and then make sure that the new business model co-exists peacefully next to its existing business model. Based on research into 65 companies that chose to enter markets created by disruptive business models (including Nestlä, Edward Jones, Waitrose, Reuters, and Tesco), the authors say that established firms should develop new business models that are different from their existing business models and different from the business model of the disruptor. However, designing these business models is not only difficult in its own right but also raises the challenge of how to operate two different and conflicting business models in the same company. The authors argue that the usual prescription of creating a separate unit to house the new business model is not enough. The company needs to achieve a delicate balance: establishing enough separation between the two business models to avoid conflicts, but not so much to take advantage of synergies between the two. To achieve this balance, the company needs to create an ambidextrous organizational environment.

When a crisis strikes, brands can avert backlash from consumers -- and even strengthen the brand -- with well-considered and thoughtfully deployed communication. Based on scientific research on persuasion, the authors present a comprehensive crisis communication framework to help restore consumer trust, illustrating these recommendations using cases of both successful and unsuccessful recovery from brand crises. The authors draw heavily on Toyota's recent experience in responding to the unintended acceleration of some of its vehicles. Toyota's responses provide examples both of what to do, and what not to do, when a company is accused of wrongdoing. The authors contend that there is no one best communications path to follow when a company is in crisis. Rather, they say, the best approach will depend on the answers to three central questions: Is the accusation prompting the crisis true? Is the crisis severe? Has the company established its brand as something that customers closely identify with? Taking these factors into account, a company might best be served by some combination of seven communications strategies. These strategies range from admitting error and apologizing on the one extreme to defiantly denying and wrongdoing and even attacking the accuser on the other. In addition to describing these seven communications strategies, the authors also lay out four lessons on corporate crisis communications that emerge from the Toyota debacle. One, in the Internet age, speed of response is imperative. Second (and a corollary to the need for speed), companies need to be ready for a crisis at all times, and have at hand a step-by-step protocol to follow when bad things happen. Third, it is essential that in a time of crisis, the CEO him or herself -- not lower level management--needs to step forward and publicly articulate the company's responses. And fourth, companies must not delude themselves that they can skate by while ignoring a crisis. Response is essential.

In recent years, much has been written about evidence-based- or fact-based- decision making. The core idea is that decisions supported by hard facts and sound analysis are likely to be better than decisions made on the basis of instinct, folklore or informal anecdotal evidence. And many organizations have invested heavily in data processing infrastructure and analytical tools based on assumption that better evidence-based decision will follow from these investments. But research by the authors suggests that evidence is not as frequent an input to a decision process as managers like to think. Instead, what occurs is decision-based evidence making -sometimes without managers even understanding, that it's happening. The authors address three key questions: Why does decision-based evidence making occur in organizations? Is decision-based evidence making the necessarily bad? And, if decision-based evidence making is inevitable in organizations, what can be done to lessen its negative impacts? To help answer those questions, the authors explain how decision making is affected by the contexts in which problems are presented- and how those contexts can demand different ways of using evidence, depending on whether the evidence is being used to make, inform or support a decision.

The case begins with newly appointed chairman and interim CEO Garo Armen dwelling on the significant issues that Elan Corporation, an Irish pharmaceutical company, faces. Its share price has plummeted 96% after accusations of accounting fraud and the discontinuation of an important clinical trial due to the drug's severe side effects. As a result, Elan faces insolvency. About $2 billion in debt that could no longer be satisfied in stock will soon mature, and there are questions regarding the company's structure and various operating concerns. Armen is also concerned about the ethical consequences of the company's failing and thus not being able to develop potentially life-saving medicines. Armen must decide what the nature of Elan should be moving forward and what strategy it should adopt. The operational and financial issues discussed in the case are complicated by Elan's status as an Irish company with significant international operations. The case closes with Armen reflecting on the decisions he has made-which students should critique and suggest alternatives to-as well as an open decision on choosing a successor CEO.

After booming for more than five years, the global shipping (maritime) industry experienced a dramatic crash in late 2008 as the global financial system froze and the global economy slid into recession. Ship charter rates (revenue) fell by as much as 90% causing prices of used ships to fall by as much as 80%. As ship prices (values?) fell, ship owners began to default on loans and new purchase contracts while banks holding loans secured by ships faced the possibility of increasing defaults (violations of loan-to-value covenants), foreclosures, and write-offs. In the midst of this crisis, VHSS, the German Shipbroker's Association, introduced a proposal to value ships using discounted cash flow analysis (to determine a long-term asset value, LTAV) rather than market prices from comparable transactions. Thomas Rehder, the Chairman of VHSS, argued this approach was necessary because market prices did not reflect fundamental values in the current environment. After announcing the alternative valuation methodology in September 2009, he must convince industry participants--ship owners, appraisers, and bankers--to adopt the new valuation methodology and bank regulators and auditing firms to approve its use.

Wang Yung-ching, legendary Taiwanese businessman and philanthropist, passed away in 2008. He left behind an estate worth US $5.5 billion, but did not leave a will. The case discusses the potential motivation for Wang, and uses it to study succession planning for family businesses.

This case focuses on the review by the private equity firm ABRY Partners of an opportunity to invest in a film financing vehicle, Legendary Pictures. Before 2004, private equity firms had avoided co-investing with film studios in film productions because of their perception of the industry as highly risky and biased against financial investors. The ABRY team undertook extensive due diligence to determine the risk-reward profile of investments in film slates. The case highlights issues around due diligence, risk assessment, market bias and deal structuring in private equity.

Stephen Engelberg, ProPublica's managing editor, entered the organization's newsroom located in lower Manhattan on September 16, 2008. He knew a historical financial debacle was happening at his doorstep yet that none of his journalists were covering that beat. It would take much effort to get up to speed on the story. Uncovering what caused the recent turmoil in financial markets and Lehman's failure would require skills, knowledge of financial services, and connections within the industry. ProPublica had been created only a year earlier as an independent, non-profit newsroom focused on investigative journalism. It was now fully staffed with close to 30 members, including journalists who had joined partly because of the promise of editorial latitude they were offered. As Engelberg weighed his various options, he knew all the major U.S. newsrooms were heading full speed to allocate resources covering the developing debacle. ProPublica needed to live up to the public's expectations. Should he assign the story to one of his journalists and, if so, whom? Alternatively should he hire new talent? In that case who would be a good fit? Moreover, how might this impact ProPublica's model and culture?