Corporations that talk tough about cracking down on intellectual property theft need to look closely at their own organizations.

Sometime around the middle of the past century, telephone executive Chester Barnard imported the term "decision making" from public administration into the business world. There it began to replace narrower terms, like "resource allocation" and "policy making," shifting the way managers thought about their role from continuous, Hamlet-like deliberation toward a crisp series of conclusions reached and actions taken. Yet, decision making is, of course, a broad and ancient human pursuit, dating back to a time when people sought guidance from the stars. From those earliest days, we have strived to invent better tools for the purpose, from the Hindu-Arabic systems for numbering and algebra to Aristotle's systematic empiricism to Friar Occam's advances in logic to Francis Bacon's inductive reasoning to Descartes' application of the scientific method. A growing sophistication with managing risk, along with a nuanced understanding of human behavior and advances in technology that support and mimic cognitive processes, has improved decision making in many situations. Even so, the history of decision-making strategies has not marched steadily toward perfect rationalism. Twentieth-century theorists showed that the costs of acquiring information lead executives to make do with only good-enough decisions. Worse, people decide against their own economic interests even when they know better. And in the absence of emotion, it's impossible to make any decisions at all. Erroneous framing, bounded awareness, excessive optimism: The debunking of Descartes' rational man threatens to swamp our confidence in our choices. Is it really surprising, then, that even as technology dramatically increases our access to information, Malcolm Gladwell extols the virtues of gut decisions made, literally, in the blink of an eye?

Robert Morris, an Amazon Top 10 reviewer, helps you decide which business books are worth your time and attention.

Does the ad jingle have a future? HBR senior editor Leigh Buchanan points out the appeal of simplicity in a complicated age.

In the United States, HR management is perceived as a narrow specialty. In Japan, it's a place to go to get ahead.

The "broken windows" theory of crime prevention--pay attention to the details--pertains to companies, too.

Truly new ideas spawn original language, but where new management ideas should be, there are too many cliches borrowed from other fields. We deserve better, argues HBR senior editor Leigh Buchanan.

The List is HBR's annual attempt to capture ideas in the state of becoming--when they're teetering between what one person suspects and what everyone accepts. Roderick M. Kramer says it isn't bad when leaders flip-flop. Julia Kirby describes new efforts to redefine the problem of organizational performance. Joseph L. Bower praises the "Velcro organization," where managerial responsibilities can be rearranged. Jeffrey F. Rayport argues that companies must refocus innovation on the "demand side." Eric Bonabeau describes a future in which computer-generated sound can be used to transmit vast amounts of data. Roger L. Martin says highly reliable corporate systems such as CRM tend to have little validity. Kirthi Kalyanam and Monte Zweben report that marketers are learning to contact customers at just the right moment. Robert C. Merton explains how equity swaps could help developing countries avoid some of the risk of boom and bust. Thomas A. Stewart says companies need champions of the status quo. Mohanbir Sawhney suggests marketing strategies for the blogosphere. Denise Caruso shows how to deal with risks that lack owners. Thomas H. Davenport says personal information management--how well we use our PDAs and PCs--is the next productivity frontier. Leigh Buchanan explores workplace taboos. Henry W. Chesbrough argues that the time is ripe for services science to become an academic field. Kenneth Lieberthal says China may change everyone's approach to intellectual property. Jochen Wirtz and Loizos Heracleous describe customer service apps for biometrics. Mary Catherine Bateson envisions a midlife sabbatical for workers. Jeffrey Rosen explains why one privacy policy won't fit everyone. Tihamer von Ghyczy and Janis Antonovics say firms should embrace parasites. And Jeffrey Pfeffer warns business-book buyers to beware. Additionally, HBR offers a list of intriguing business titles due out in 2005.

Employee engagement may influence performance and retention more than any other factor.

Young employees are ambitious--yet hoping to stay at one company for as long as possible.

CEO Herb Baum thinks R&D is not the same as innovation, and he thinks innovation should be everyone's business at Dial.

Humorist and Clinton speechwriter Mark Katz reveals the awesome power of self-deprecation.

The Denver office of Clarion Co., a $30 million, full-service marketing firm, has always been a politics-free zone. Nonwork conversations revolve around families, romances, and the state of the powder at Aspen. If the office sometimes seems detached from the wider world, no one cares. But that all changes with the arrival of Marcus Lippman. A senior project manager hired away from a rival firm in Chicago, Marcus is both charming and aggressive about meeting his new colleagues. During morning encounters in the mail room or kitchenette, he often alludes to the day's headlines. In particular, Marcus follows the presidential campaign with an avidity his colleagues reserve for the fate of contestants on American Idol. Those informed enough to respond, generally do so. Over time, others join in. Politics soon enters the office bloodstream. Employees sense a new energy, a feeling of engagement that intensifies as the campaign season progresses. Many employees make contacts in the business community as they pursue extracurricular political activities. But there are downsides as well. Out-of-control e-mail debates sap productivity. Feelings get hurt. And general manager Joan Mungo discovers that political views play an important part in determining who rises to power in the company. As tensions mount, Joan wonders: Should she do something to stanch political debate and, if so, what? Commenting on this fictional case study in R0410A and R0410Z are Brian Flynn, the CEO of Schlossberg:Flynn, a business development consulting firm; Frank Furedi, a professor of sociology at the University of Kent in England; Paula Brantner, the program director at Workplace Fairness, a nonprofit organization; and James E. Rogers, the CEO of Cinergy, a diversified energy company.

The Denver office of Clarion Co., a $30 million, full-service marketing firm, has always been a politics-free zone. Nonwork conversations revolve around families, romances, and the state of the powder at Aspen. If the office sometimes seems detached from the wider world, no one cares. But that all changes with the arrival of Marcus Lippman. A senior project manager hired away from a rival firm in Chicago, Marcus is both charming and aggressive about meeting his new colleagues. During morning encounters in the mail room or kitchenette, he often alludes to the day's headlines. In particular, Marcus follows the presidential campaign with an avidity his colleagues reserve for the fate of contestants on American Idol. Those informed enough to respond, generally do so. Over time, others join in. Politics soon enters the office bloodstream. Employees sense a new energy, a feeling of engagement that intensifies as the campaign season progresses. Many employees make contacts in the business community as they pursue extracurricular political activities. But there are downsides as well. Out-of-control e-mail debates sap productivity. Feelings get hurt. And general manager Joan Mungo discovers that political views play an important part in determining who rises to power in the company. As tensions mount, Joan wonders: Should she do something to stanch political debate and, if so, what? Commenting on this fictional case study in R0410A and R0410Z are Brian Flynn, the CEO of Schlossberg:Flynn, a business development consulting firm; Frank Furedi, a professor of sociology at the University of Kent in England; Paula Brantner, the program director at Workplace Fairness, a nonprofit organization; and James E. Rogers, the CEO of Cinergy, a diversified energy company.

The Denver office of Clarion Co., a $30 million, full-service marketing firm, has always been a politics-free zone. Nonwork conversations revolve around families, romances, and the state of the powder at Aspen. If the office sometimes seems detached from the wider world, no one cares. But that all changes with the arrival of Marcus Lippman. A senior project manager hired away from a rival firm in Chicago, Marcus is both charming and aggressive about meeting his new colleagues. During morning encounters in the mail room or kitchenette, he often alludes to the day's headlines. In particular, Marcus follows the presidential campaign with an avidity his colleagues reserve for the fate of contestants on American Idol. Those informed enough to respond, generally do so. Over time, others join in. Politics soon enters the office bloodstream. Employees sense a new energy, a feeling of engagement that intensifies as the campaign season progresses. Many employees make contacts in the business community as they pursue extracurricular political activities. But there are downsides as well. Out-of-control e-mail debates sap productivity. Feelings get hurt. And general manager Joan Mungo discovers that political views play an important part in determining who rises to power in the company. As tensions mount, Joan wonders: Should she do something to stanch political debate and, if so, what? Commenting on this fictional case study in R0410A and R0410Z are Brian Flynn, the CEO of Schlossberg:Flynn, a business development consulting firm; Frank Furedi, a professor of sociology at the University of Kent in England; Paula Brantner, the program director at Workplace Fairness, a nonprofit organization; and James E. Rogers, the CEO of Cinergy, a diversified energy company.

E. Lawrence Kersten thinks corporate America could use a good dose of demotivation. Carrying products that promise to "unleash the power of mediocrity," Kersten's company, Despair Inc., has just the ticket.

HBR's editors searched for the best new ideas related to the practice of management and came up with a collection that is as diverse as it is provocative. The 2004 HBR List includes emergent concepts from biology, network science, management theory, and more. A few highlights: Richard Florida wonders why U.S. society doesn't seem to be thinking about the flow of people as the key to America's advantage in the "creative age." Diane L. Coutu describes how the revolution in neurosciences will have a major impact on business. Clayton M. Christensen explains the law of conservation of attractive profits: When attractive profits disappear at one stage in the value chain because a product becomes commoditized, the opportunity to earn attractive profits with proprietary products usually emerges at an adjacent stage. Daniel H. Pink explains why the master of fine arts is the new MBA. Herminia Ibarra describes how companies can get the most out of managers returning from leadership-development programs. Iqbal Quadir suggests a radical fix for the third world's trade problems: Get the World Bank to lend to rich countries so that there are resources for retraining workers in dying industries.

When Shirley Franklin took over as mayor of Atlanta in 2001, city hall was flat broke, employee morale was in the basement, and the public had lost faith. In her own words, Franklin describes how she's managing the city's recovery.