Few companies can boast a collection of star brands like LVMH Moet Hennessy Louis Vuitton, the French powerhouse that owns the likes of Dior, Dom Perignon, and TAG Heuer. What accounts for the company's spectacular success? In a rare interview, the chairman of LVMH, Bernard Arnault, opens the window on that question with HBR editor Suzy Wetlaufer. Arnault identifies how companies build star brands and describes the process LVMH uses to create its wildly innovative products. First, the luxury goods giant begins with radical innovation--an unpredictable, messy, highly emotional activity that the company wholly endorses. Unlike many companies, LVMH does not believe in managerial limit setting. Artists must be completely unfettered by financial and commercial concerns, Arnault insists, to do their best work. When it comes to getting that creativity onto the shelves, however, LVMH banishes such chaos. The company imposes strict discipline on its manufacturing processes, meticulously planning, for instance, all 1,000 tasks in the construction of one purse. Through near-draconian manufacturing disciplines, the company is able to achieve exceptionally high productivity, rivaling even some of today's most technologically advanced factories. The bottom line is that LVMH has one goal: star brands. According to Arnault, star brands are born only when a company manages to make products that "speak to the ages" but feel intensely modern. Such products sell fast and furiously, all the while raking in profits. As Arnault notes dryly, "Mastering the paradox of star brands is very difficult and rare--fortunately."
One of the world's most enduring companies, Nestle epitomizes everything that today's high-flying, headline-grabbing companies are not. It respects technology but doesn't consider it central to strategy. It values growth but prefers it controlled. It seeks talented professionals but wants only those who are modest in word and deed. Nestle CEO Peter Brabeck is skeptical of the relentless push for radical transformation heard from every quarter. He believes, instead, in continuous improvement through slow and steady change. While he acknowledges that every company must change in order to compete in today's turbulent marketplace, Brabeck makes the focus of his work identifying and strengthening those aspects of Nestle that should stay the same. For example, Nestle eschews the noise and energy swirling around technology. Many companies make technology the focal point of strategy, Brabeck says, but Nestle is about people, products, and brands. Brabeck also talks candidly about how to fight complacency in a successful company, how to institutionalize collaboration in a decentralized organization, and how to resist pressure from analysts and money managers and focus on long-term, sustainable and profitable growth--in short, how to win the war without the revolution.
No one can say for certain how many millionaires have been created by Wall Street's long boom. But this new breed of employee certainly creates a whole new set of challenges for managers today. Working millionaires make motivation and retention--two hard games to play in the first place--harder than ever. And they push already steep compensation levels upward. What, then, can be done to manage millionaires in a way that makes them worth the effort, not to mention the cost? To answer this question, Suzy Wetlaufer, senior executive editor of HBR, interviewed more than two dozen CEOs, HR executives, and headhunters from Wall Street and Silicon Valley, as well as a half-dozen working millionaires themselves. Their thoughts--and the managerial imperatives they imply--have culminated in the first HBR at Large, a new department designed to explore multifaceted business ideas confronting people creating, leading, and transforming business today. Wetlaufer discovered, somewhat unexpectedly, that many executives see an upside to the rise of the working millionaire. Millionaires force companies to be far more creative--indeed, entrepreneurial--about their products and services. They push companies to keep beating their targets in the marketplace. And they compel their bosses to build a productive, healthy culture. Admittedly, some millionaires can only be kept happy with corporate jets, original art lining big offices, and world-class executive lunchroom cuisine. Indeed, millionaires are driving managerial practices that, in another time, might have been dismissed but that today are merely admission to the game. But the irony is that such practices should perhaps have been there for everyone all along.
Norman Spencer, who grew up poor, worked for two decades to make his investment firm successful and his family wealthy. The company he founded, Arrowhead, is now known on Wall Street as a top-notch boutique firm with $25 billion in assets under management. His family has a mansion in San Francisco and a "cottage" in Nantucket. His 17-year-old daughter drives a BMW, his 13-year-old son takes flying lessons in his own plane, and his wife has a personal feng shui adviser. But at the pinnacle of his career, Norman feels as though he's drowning. Norman's success only makes him feel numb, and his home life is a disaster; his wife is so resentful of his lack of family involvement that she no longer speaks to him. His daughter refused to wish him happy Father's Day. "You're not a father," she said. Alternately harsh and remote at work, this fictional entrepreneur has been asked by one senior executive at Arrowhead to stay away from the analysts. So he spends a lot of time surfing the Internet, looking at real estate in far-flung places, and haunting web sites about missing persons, wondering what became of his younger sister, who ran away from home at age 14. What is wrong with Norman, and how can he fix it? In R00211 and R00213, commentators Edward M. Hallowell, Scott Neely, Jean Hollands and Manfred F.R. Kets de Vries offer advice on this fictional case study.
Norman Spencer, who grew up poor, worked for two decades to make his investment firm successful and his family wealthy. The company he founded, Arrowhead, is now known on Wall Street as a top-notch boutique firm with $25 billion in assets under management. His family has a mansion in San Francisco and a "cottage" in Nantucket. His 17-year-old daughter drives a BMW, his 13-year-old son takes flying lessons in his own plane, and his wife has a personal feng shui adviser. But at the pinnacle of his career, Norman feels as though he's drowning. Norman's success only makes him feel numb, and his home life is a disaster; his wife is so resentful of his lack of family involvement that she no longer speaks to him. His daughter refused to wish him happy Father's Day. "You're not a father," she said. Alternately harsh and remote at work, this fictional entrepreneur has been asked by one senior executive at Arrowhead to stay away from the analysts. So he spends a lot of time surfing the Internet, looking at real estate in far-flung places, and haunting web sites about missing persons, wondering what became of his younger sister, who ran away from home at age 14. What is wrong with Norman, and how can he fix it? In R00211 and R00214, commentators Edward M. Hallowell, Scott Neely, Jean Hollands, and Manfred F.R. Kets de Vries offer advice on this fictional case study.
Norman Spencer, who grew up poor, worked for two decades to make his investment firm successful and his family wealthy. The company he founded, Arrowhead, is now known on Wall Street as a top-notch boutique firm with $25 billion in assets under management. His family has a mansion in San Francisco and a "cottage" in Nantucket. His 17-year-old daughter drives a BMW, his 13-year-old son takes flying lessons in his own plane, and his wife has a personal feng shui adviser. But at the pinnacle of his career, Norman feels as though he's drowning. Norman's success only makes him feel numb, and his home life is a disaster; his wife is so resentful of his lack of family involvement that she no longer speaks to him. His daughter refused to wish him happy Father's Day. "You're not a father," she said. Alternately harsh and remote at work, this fictional entrepreneur has been asked by one senior executive at Arrowhead to stay away from the analysts. So he spends a lot of time surfing the Internet, looking at real estate in far-flung places, and haunting web sites about missing persons, wondering what became of his younger sister, who ran away from home at age 14. What is wrong with Norman, and how can he fix it? In R00211 and R00213, commentators Edward M. Hallowell, Scott Neely, Jean Hollands and F.R. Manfred Kets de Vries offer advice on this fictional case study.
Once upon a time, the Walt Disney Company was famous for a quaint little mouse, a collection of vintage animated films for children, and two enjoyable--but aging--theme parks. It was, in other words, a great American company in eclipse. Today, Disney may be going through some tough times, but it's tough times for a vast $23 billion empire. Along with animation blockbusters like The Lion King and Beauty and the Beast, Disney now owns three motion picture studios, as well as the ABC and ESPN television networks. The company is now poised to build new theme parks in Japan and China to go along with its EuroDisney attractions. Two Disney cruise ships sail the Bahamas. A Disney symphony to mark the millennium opened at the New York Philharmonic last fall. And an integrated network of Web sites--Disney.com, ABC.com, ABCNews.com, Go.com, and Family.com--stretches out over the Internet. The driving force behind all that growth was undoubtedly Michael Eisner, who became chairman and CEO in 1984. In this interview with senior editor Suzy Wetlaufer, Eisner vividly and colorfully describes the challenges he confronted as he built Disney. In a series of revealing anecdotes, he illustrates the workings of a culture that fosters creativity--an environment fraught with both carefully institutionalized conflict and good old-fashioned common sense. Eisner describes in detail the four pillars of his particular brand of leadership, which he maintains are the same in good times and bad: being an example; being there; being a nudge; and being, as he puts it, "an idea generator--all the time, all day, all night."
For the most part, Glamor-a-Go-Go's board has been thrilled with CEO Joe Ryan's performance. Ryan, after all, had transformed the private-label cosmetics company into a retail powerhouse with flashy outlets from New York to Los Angeles. In addition to saving the company from bankruptcy shortly after his arrival in 1992, Ryan had made Glamor-a-Go-Go a fun and exciting place to work, increasing workers' wages and creating boundless opportunities for anyone willing to work hard and think out of the box. He had also brought more women and people of color on board. And he had made many employees wealthy, with generous stock giveaways and options for the most senior employees down to the most junior. Glamor-a-Go-Go's stock price had grown tenfold during Ryan's tenure. But Ryan's personal affairs were beginning to call into question his leadership abilities. The local paper's gossip column recently ran a photo of Ryan--a married man--leaving a gala event with a beautiful young woman from the company, with the headline "Who's That Girl?" Indeed, rumors about Ryan's philandering were starting to take on a harsher edge. Some people believed his secretary left because Ryan had sexually harassed her. Others believed a mailroom employee had been promoted to factory supervisor because of her affair with the CEO. Having warned Ryan several times about his alleged infidelities, the board is stuck. What should it do about Ryan's extracurricular behavior? Does Ryan's personal behavior even affect the company? Is what Ryan does outside the office the board's concern? In 99511 and 99511Z, commentators Freada Kapor Klein, Mitchell Kapor, Burke Stinson, Patrick Carnes, Daryl Koehn, and Lisa A. Mainiero offer advice on this fictional case study.
For the most part, Glamor-a-Go-Go's board has been thrilled with CEO Joe Ryan's performance. Ryan, after all, had transformed the private-label cosmetics company into a retail powerhouse with flashy outlets from New York to Los Angeles. In addition to saving the company from bankruptcy shortly after his arrival in 1992, Ryan had made Glamor-a-Go-Go a fun and exciting place to work, increasing workers' wages and creating boundless opportunities for anyone willing to work hard and think out of the box. He had also brought more women and people of color on board. And he had made many employees wealthy, with generous stock giveaways and options for the most senior employees down to the most junior. Glamor-a-Go-Go's stock price had grown tenfold during Ryan's tenure. But Ryan's personal affairs were beginning to call into question his leadership abilities. The local paper's gossip column recently ran a photo of Ryan--a married man--leaving a gala event with a beautiful young woman from the company, with the headline "Who's That Girl?" Indeed, rumors about Ryan's philandering were starting to take on a harsher edge. Some people believed his secretary left because Ryan had sexually harassed her. Others believed a mailroom employee had been promoted to factory supervisor because of her affair with the CEO. Having warned Ryan several times about his alleged infidelities, the board is stuck. What should it do about Ryan's extracurricular behavior? Does Ryan's personal behavior even affect the company? Is what Ryan does outside the office the board's concern? In 99511 and 99511Z, commentators Freada Kapor Klein, Mitchell Kapor, Burke Stinson, Patrick Carnes, Daryl Koehn, and Lisa A. Mainiero offer advice on this fictional case study.
For the most part, Glamor-a-Go-Go's board has been thrilled with CEO Joe Ryan's performance. Ryan, after all, had transformed the private-label cosmetics company into a retail powerhouse with flashy outlets from New York to Los Angeles. In addition to saving the company from bankruptcy shortly after his arrival in 1992, Ryan had made Glamor-a-Go-Go a fun and exciting place to work, increasing workers' wages and creating boundless opportunities for anyone willing to work hard and think out of the box. He had also brought more women and people of color on board. And he had made many employees wealthy, with generous stock giveaways and options for the most senior employees down to the most junior. Glamor-a-Go-Go's stock price had grown tenfold during Ryan's tenure. But Ryan's personal affairs were beginning to call into question his leadership abilities. The local paper's gossip column recently ran a photo of Ryan--a married man--leaving a gala event with a beautiful young woman from the company, with the headline "Who's That Girl?" Indeed, rumors about Ryan's philandering were starting to take on a harsher edge. Some people believed his secretary left because Ryan had sexually harassed her. Others believed a mailroom employee had been promoted to factory supervisor because of her affair with the CEO. Having warned Ryan several times about his alleged infidelities, the board is stuck. What should it do about Ryan's extracurricular behavior? Does Ryan's personal behavior even affect the company? Is what Ryan does outside the office the board's concern? In 99511 and 99511Z, commentators Freada Kapor Klein, Mitchell Kapor, Burke Stinson, Patrick Carnes, Daryl Koehn, and Lisa A. Mainiero offer advice on this fictional case study.
What happens when the world is changing but your organization isn't? And what if that organization has 340,000 employees in 200 countries? In this interview, Jacques Nasser, the new CEO of Ford Motor Company, talks with HBR senior editor Suzy Wetlaufer about these challenges and explains how his company is overcoming them through a unique education program. Since its very beginnings, says Nasser, Ford has comprised dozens of far-flung divisions and units, each with its own "fiefdom" mind-set. The fiefdoms didn't share information, let alone great ideas. Such behavior stifled creativity and drove up costs. Today's global environment demands a new and different way of doing business, says Nasser, and to that end, Ford has launched a multifaceted teaching initiative that will reach every one of Ford's employees by year-end. The goal of the program: to help employees view the company in its entirety as shareholders do, and then act that way, too. At the heart of the initiative is the teachable point of view, a five-part written explanation of what a person knows and believes about what it takes to succeed in business. It is more than just a document to be discussed and then filed. It has proven to be a powerful tool for organizational transformation, and not only at Ford. In a commentary accompanying Nasser's interview, Noel Tichy, leadership expert and consultant to Ford, describes the building blocks of the teachable point of view and explores how it can be implemented in any organization determined to change for the better.
The topic of empowerment is receiving a lot of attention, but how many employees are truly empowered? At the global electricity giant AES Corporation, the answer is all 40,000 of them. In this interview with HBR Senior Editor Suzy Wetlaufer, AES Chairman Roger Sant and CEO Dennis Bakke reflect on their trials and triumphs in creating an exceptional company and explain how their employee-run company works. When they founded AES in 1981, Sant and Bakke set out to create a company where people could have engaging experiences on a daily basis--a company that embodied the principles of fairness, integrity, social responsibility, and fun. Putting those principles into action has created something unique--an ecosystem of real empowerment. What does that system look like? Rather than having a traditional hierarchical chain of command, AES is organized around small teams that are responsible for operations and maintenance. Moreover, AES has eliminated functional departments; there's no corporate marketing division or human resources department. For the system to work, every person must become a well-rounded generalist--a mini-CEO. That, in turn, redefines the jobs of the people at headquarters. Instead of setting strategy and making the "the big decisions," Sant and Bakke act as advisers, guardians of the principles, accountability officers, and chief encouragers. Can other companies successfully adopt the mechanics of such a system? Not unless they first adopt the shared principles that have guided AES since its inception. "Empowerment without values isn't empowerment," says Sant. "It's just technique," adds Bakke.
Harry Denton, the CEO in this fictional case study, has been caught off guard. As the head of Delarks, a venerable department-store chain in the Midwest, he has engineered a remarkable turnaround in only a year. Sales have rebounded, and Wall Street is applauding. But when Delarks' head of merchandising defects to a competitor, Denton is shocked to realize that many of the layoff survivors, in fact, have had it with him and with the company. The last straw was the recent closing of the Madison store, which Denton announced without warning to anyone--not even the company's head of HR, Thomas Wazinsky, a supposedly trusted adviser. The rumor mill says that many employees are considering leaving before Denton can inflict the next blow. And senior managers are not immune to the fear and anger. Even Wazinsky, one of the few links to Delarks' proud past, confesses to Denton, "I'll bet you're thinking of firing me." Denton has to act--and fast. He calls a "town meeting" for the 600 employees of the St. Paul store. The plan: rally the troops. Instead, Denton is routed. Angry questions are hurled at the CEO, and he is forced to beat a hasty retreat through the back door. In 98510 and 98510Z, Bob Peixotto, Jim Emshoff, Richard Manning, Gun Denhart, and Saul Gellerman offer advice on how to revive morale at the successful but troubled company.
Harry Denton, the CEO in this fictional case study, has been caught off guard. As the head of Delarks, a venerable department-store chain in the Midwest, he has engineered a remarkable turnaround in only a year. Sales have rebounded, and Wall Street is applauding. But when Delarks' head of merchandising defects to a competitor, Denton is shocked to realize that many of the layoff survivors, in fact, have had it with him and with the company. The last straw was the recent closing of the Madison store, which Denton announced without warning to anyone--not even the company's head of HR, Thomas Wazinsky, a supposedly trusted adviser. The rumor mill says that many employees are considering leaving before Denton can inflict the next blow. And senior managers are not immune to the fear and anger. Even Wazinsky, one of the few links to Delarks' proud past, confesses to Denton, "I'll bet you're thinking of firing me." Denton has to act--and fast. He calls a "town meeting" for the 600 employees of the St. Paul store. The plan: rally the troops. Instead, Denton is routed. Angry questions are hurled at the CEO, and he is forced to beat a hasty retreat through the back door. In 98510A and 98510Z, Bob Peixotto, Jim Emshoff, Richard Manning, Gun Denhart, and Saul Gellerman offer advice on how to revive morale at the successful but troubled company.
Harry Denton, the CEO in this fictional case study, has been caught off guard. As the head of Delarks, a venerable department-store chain in the Midwest, he has engineered a remarkable turnaround in only a year. Sales have rebounded, and Wall Street is applauding. But when Delarks's head of merchandising defects to a competitor, Denton is shocked to realize that many of the layoff survivors, in fact, have had it with him and with the company. The last straw was the recent closing of the Madison store, which Denton announced without warning to anyone--not even the company's head of HR, Thomas Wazinsky, a supposedly trusted adviser. The rumor mill says that many employees are considering leaving before Denton can inflict the next blow. And senior managers are not immune to the fear and anger. Even Wazinsky, one of the few links to Delarks's proud past, confesses to Denton, "I'll bet you're thinking of firing me." Denton has to act--and fast. He calls a "town meeting" for the 600 employees of the St. Paul store. The plan: rally the troops. Instead, Denton is routed. Angry questions are hurled at the CEO, and he is forced to beat a hasty retreat through the back door. In 98510A and 98510Z, Bob Peixotto, Jim Emshoff, Richard Manning, Gun Denhart, and Saul Gellerman offer advice on how to revive morale at the successful but troubled company.
In this interview with Harvard Business School professor Linda Hill and HBR senior editor Suzy Wetlaufer, Franco Bernabe discusses the six-year period in which he transformed his organization from an unprofitable, politically-controlled collection of operating companies into a lean, competitive, global enterprise. Few CEOs will face crises as disruptive and dramatic as those encountered--and overcome--by Bernabe. In 1992, when Bernabe was appointed CEO of Eni, Italy's large, energy-focused industrial group, his announced goal was to transform the company from a political quagmire into a clean, market-driven business ready for its first public offering. The resistance to his plans was intense, but that wasn't the worst of it. Soon after he took power, an investigation known as Mani Pulite--Clean Hands--led to the arrest of much of Eni's senior management team, including the company's chairman. One of those senior managers even made the false claim--based on hearsay--that Bernabe himself had taken a huge bribe. Simply put, Bernabe's story is not just that of a CEO steering a massive strategic reinvention. It is a story of leadership, and an unlikely one at that. In this interview, it becomes clear how Bernabe survived his tumultuous first months as CEO and then led the company's transformation. To begin with, he was unique in having both an encyclopedic knowledge of Eni's operations and a view of the company's future from 30,000 feet. But perhaps more than anything, Bernabe's power to lead has come from within. He follows, he says, an inner compass pointed toward humanity and justice. In difficult times, Bernabe seeks consultation from others. But ultimately, he makes all important decisions alone so as not to be buffeted by the needs, emotions, or agendas of others. Such solitude, he believes, is one of the burdens--and necessities--of leadership.
This fictitious case study explores the challenges facing CoolBurst, a Miami-based fruit-juice company. For over a decade, CoolBurst had ruled the market in the Southeast. Why, then, are its annual revenues stuck at $30 million, and why have profits been stagnant for four years straight? CoolBurst's new CEO, Luisa Reboredo, knows that the company's survival--and her own--depend on the answers. Reboredo has succeeded former utilitarian CEO Garth LeRoue. While LeRoue had undeniably made CoolBurst into the well-oiled machine it was, he'd also been stubborn in enforcing a culture of tradition, self-discipline, and respect for authority--a culture so staid and polite, it left little room for employees to be creative. LeRoue, for instance, had almost fired two of CoolBurst's most creative employees for inventing four new drinks without his permission. Sam Jenkins, one of those employees, had been so angered by the incident that he left the company to work for CoolBurst's largest competitor. How can Reboredo encourage her employees to start thinking creatively. And how can she nurture any creative individuals who may join the company in the future? In 97511 and 97511Z, commentators Paul Barker, Teresa M. Amabile, Manfred F.R. Kets de Vries, Gareth Jones, and Elspeth McFadzean offer advice on this fictional case study.
This fictitious case study explores the challenges facing CoolBurst, a Miami-based fruit-juice company. For over a decade, CoolBurst had ruled the market in the Southeast. Why, then, are its annual revenues stuck at $30 million, and why have profits been stagnant for four years straight? CoolBurst's new CEO, Luisa Reboredo, knows that the company's survival--and her own--depend on the answers. Reboredo has succeeded former utilitarian CEO Garth LeRoue. While LeRoue had undeniably made CoolBurst into the well-oiled machine it was, he'd also been stubborn in enforcing a culture of tradition, self-discipline, and respect for authority--a culture so staid and polite, it left little room for employees to be creative. LeRoue, for instance, had almost fired two of CoolBurst's most creative employees for inventing four new drinks without his permission. Sam Jenkins, one of those employees, had been so angered by the incident that he left the company to work for CoolBurst's largest competitor. How can Reboredo encourage her employees to start thinking creatively. And how can she nurture any creative individuals who may join the company in the future? In 97511 and 97511Z, commentators Paul Barker, Teresa M. Amabile, Manfred F.R. Kets de Vries, Gareth Jones, and Elspeth McFadzean offer advice on this fictional case study.
This fictitious case study explores the challenges facing CoolBurst, a Miami-based fruit-juice company. For over a decade, CoolBurst had ruled the market in the Southeast. Why, then, are its annual revenues stuck at $30 million, and why have profits been stagnant for four years straight? CoolBurst's new CEO, Luisa Reboredo, knows that the company's survival--and her own--depend on the answers. Reboredo has succeeded former utilitarian CEO Garth LeRoue. While LeRoue had undeniably made CoolBurst into the well-oiled machine it was, he'd also been stubborn in enforcing a culture of tradition, self-discipline, and respect for authority--a culture so staid and polite, it left little room for employees to be creative. LeRoue, for instance, had almost fired two of CoolBurst's most creative employees for inventing four new drinks without his permission. Sam Jenkins, one of those employees, had been so angered by the incident that he left the company to work for CoolBurst's largest competitor. How can Reboredo encourage her employees to start thinking creatively. And how can she nurture any creative individuals who may join the company in the future? In 97511 and 97511Z, commentators Paul Barker, Teresa M. Amabile, Manfred F.R. Kets de Vries, Gareth Jones, and Elspeth McFadzean offer advice on this fictional case study.