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Like many technology organizations in the late 1990s, Cisco was booming. It grew so quickly, in fact, that it was bringing in up to 1,000 new employees each month. Cisco's solution was to acquire talent by buying small firms, topping out in one year with 24 separate acquisitions. However, in 2000, the dot-com bubble burst and Cisco quickly realized that it had another human capital challenge on its hands: how to develop, rather than hire, the strategic thinkers and leaders needed for the future. Explores the challenges facing Mary Eckenrod, Cisco's vice-president of worldwide talent, in developing a new human capital strategy to identify and develop leaders from within the company--and to do this in a company with no tradition of developing people internally. How can Cisco move from a "buy" to a "make" human capital strategy?

John Clough, the CFO of NetRF, a tech firm in Salt Lake City, gets an offer he's not sure he wants to refuse. Benchmark, a Fortune 500 packaged goods company, is looking for someone to join its audit committee. "Would you be interested?" the executive recruiter asks. John's experience with publicly held companies is limited, but he's highly regarded in the financial community for his acumen and probity. At NetRF, a maker of wireless communications equipment, John had championed expensing stock options when it was uncommon for high-tech firms to do so; he'd received a lot of admiring press for that move. In mulling over the offer, the 39-year-old executive and flight enthusiast considers his situation. He loves his work, his Cessna time-share, and the skiing in the Salt Lake area. Board membership would confer a certain amount of prestige, but would he be spreading himself too thin? One colleague extols the virtues of board membership--the opportunity to learn and expand your business network. But the chief outside counsel to NetRF warns that the hours can be considerable and board members' responsibilities (post-Sarbanes-Oxley) substantial. Subsequent meetings with Benchmark's nominating committee, its CEO, and its audit committee leave John with more questions than answers. Should he join the board? This fictional case study outlines the risks and rewards of board service. Commenting on this fictional case study in reprints R0502B and R0502Z are Peter Goodson, a strategic adviser to corporate boards; John F. Olson, chair of the ABA Business Law Section's Corporate Governance Committee; David J. Berger, a partner at the law firm Wilson Sonsini Goodrich & Rosati; and Charles H. King, managing director at Korn/Ferry International.

The CEO succession process is broken. Many companies have no meaningful succession plans, and few of the ones that do are happy with them. CEO tenure is shrinking; in fact, two out of five CEOs fail in their first 18 months. It isn't just that more CEOs are being replaced; it's that they're being replaced badly. The problems extend to every aspect of CEO succession: internal development programs, board supervision, and outside recruitment. While many organizations do a decent job of nurturing middle managers, few have set up the comprehensive programs needed to find the half-dozen true CEO candidates out of the thousands of leaders in their midst. Even more damaging is the failure of boards to devote enough attention to succession. Search committee members often have no experience hiring CEOs; lacking guidance, they supply either the narrowest or the most general of requirements and then fail to vet either the candidates or the recruiters. The result is that too often new CEOs are plucked from the well-worn Rolodexes of a remarkably small number of recruiters. These candidates may be strong in charisma but may lack critical skills or otherwise be a bad fit with the company. The resulting high turnover is particularly damaging, given that outside CEOs often bring in their own teams, can cause the company to lose focus, and are especially costly to be rid of. Drawing on over 35 years of experience with CEO succession, the author explains how companies can create a deep pool of internal candidates, how boards can consistently align strategy and leadership development, and how directors can get their money's worth from recruiters. Choosing a CEO should be not one decision but an amalgam of thousands of decisions made by many people every day over years.

Companies are becoming more dependent on business partners, but coordinating with outsiders takes its toll. Negotiating terms, monitoring performance, and, if needs are not being met, switching from one partner to another require time and money. Such transaction costs, Ronald Coase explained in his 1937 essay "The Nature of the Firm," drove many organizations to bring their activities in-house. But what if Coase placed too much emphasis on these costs? What if friction between companies can be productive? Indeed, as John Hagel and John Seely Brown point out, interactions between organizations can yield benefits beyond the goods or services contracted for. Companies get better at what they do--and improve faster than their competitors--by working with outsiders whose specialized capabilities complement their own. Different enterprises bring different perspectives and competencies. When these enterprises tackle a problem together, they dramatically increase the chances for innovative solutions. Of course, misunderstandings often arise when people with different backgrounds and skill sets try to collaborate. Opposing sides may focus on the distance that separates them rather than the common challenges they face. How can companies harness friction so that it builds capabilities? Start by articulating performance goals that everyone buys into. Then make sure people are using tangible prototypes to wrangle over. Finally, assemble teams with committed people who bring different perspectives to the table. As individual problems are being addressed, take care that the underpinnings of shared meaning and trust are also being woven between the companies. Neither can be dictated--but they can be cultivated. Without them, the performance fabric quickly unravels, and business partnerships disintegrate into rivalrous competition.

In his 12 years at the helm of Siemens, CEO Heinrich von Pierer designed and directed a major transformation. Taking this German icon from a technically superb but slow-moving industrial giant to a disciplined yet nimble multinational has posed enormous challenges. Since 1992, Siemens has revamped its portfolio of businesses, expanded its reach into 192 countries, and created a more local-market-driven culture, gaining recognition as one of the best-managed and most competitive companies in the world. In this edited interview with HBR editor Thomas A. Stewart and consulting editor Louise O'Brien, von Pierer describes the requirements for transformation and culture change and how he broke down historical barriers at Siemens. He shares his insights about portfolio restructuring, his lessons from competing with GE, and the pros and cons of being based in Europe vs. America. He reflects on the true start of globalization after the fall of the Berlin wall and on how dramatically the company needed to change to counter the resulting pricing pressures across all of its businesses. He talks, too, about the biggest challenge on his successor's desk--"the particular challenge of China," he says. Amid all these topics, von Pierer reiterates the importance of people: "We all talk about people as our most important resource, but as a matter of fact, who's really taking care of people?...We need [their] backing. We can't afford to run into a situation where people no longer accept what we do."

John Clough, the CFO of NetRF, a tech firm in Salt Lake City, gets an offer he's not sure he wants to refuse. Benchmark, a Fortune 500 packaged goods company, is looking for someone to join its audit committee. "Would you be interested?" the executive recruiter asks. John's experience with publicly held companies is limited, but he's highly regarded in the financial community for his acumen and probity. At NetRF, a maker of wireless communications equipment, John had championed expensing stock options when it was uncommon for high-tech firms to do so; he'd received a lot of admiring press for that move. In mulling over the offer, the 39-year-old executive and flight enthusiast considers his situation. He loves his work, his Cessna time-share, and the skiing in the Salt Lake area. Board membership would confer a certain amount of prestige, but would he be spreading himself too thin? One colleague extols the virtues of board membership--the opportunity to learn and expand your business network. But the chief outside counsel to NetRF warns that the hours can be considerable and board members' responsibilities (post-Sarbanes-Oxley) substantial. Subsequent meetings with Benchmark's nominating committee, its CEO, and its audit committee leave John with more questions than answers. Should he join the board? This fictional case study outlines the risks and rewards of board service. Commenting on this fictional case study in reprints R0502B and R0502Z are Peter Goodson, a strategic adviser to corporate boards; John F. Olson, chair of the ABA Business Law Section's Corporate Governance Committee; David J. Berger, a partner at the law firm Wilson Sonsini Goodrich & Rosati; and Charles H. King, managing director at Korn/Ferry International.

John Clough, the CFO of NetRF, a tech firm in Salt Lake City, gets an offer he's not sure he wants to refuse. Benchmark, a Fortune 500 packaged goods company, is looking for someone to join its audit committee. "Would you be interested?" the executive recruiter asks. John's experience with publicly held companies is limited, but he's highly regarded in the financial community for his acumen and probity. At NetRF, a maker of wireless communications equipment, John had championed expensing stock options when it was uncommon for high-tech firms to do so; he'd received a lot of admiring press for that move. In mulling over the offer, the 39-year-old executive and flight enthusiast considers his situation. He loves his work, his Cessna time-share, and the skiing in the Salt Lake area. Board membership would confer a certain amount of prestige, but would he be spreading himself too thin? One colleague extols the virtues of board membership--the opportunity to learn and expand your business network. But the chief outside counsel to NetRF warns that the hours can be considerable and board members' responsibilities (post-Sarbanes-Oxley) substantial. Subsequent meetings with Benchmark's nominating committee, its CEO, and its audit committee leave John with more questions than answers. Should he join the board? This fictional case study outlines the risks and rewards of board service. Commenting on this fictional case study in reprints R0502B and R0502Z are Peter Goodson, a strategic adviser to corporate boards; John F. Olson, chair of the ABA Business Law Section's Corporate Governance Committee; David J. Berger, a partner at the law firm Wilson Sonsini Goodrich & Rosati; and Charles H. King, managing director at Korn/Ferry International.

Faced with the need for a massive change, most managers respond predictably. They revamp the organization's strategy, shift around staff, and root out inefficiencies. They then wait patiently for performance to improve--only to be bitterly disappointed because they've failed to prepare employees adequately for the change. In this article, the authors contend that to make change stick, leaders must conduct an effective persuasion campaign--one that begins weeks or months before the turnaround plan is set in concrete. Like a political campaign, a persuasion campaign is largely one of differentiation from the past. Turnaround leaders must convince people that the organization is truly on its deathbed--or, at the very least, that radical changes are required if the organization is to survive and thrive. (This is a particularly difficult challenge when years of persistent problems have been accompanied by few changes in the status quo.) And they must demonstrate through word and deed that they are the right leaders with the right plan. Accomplishing all this calls for a four-part communications strategy. Prior to announcing a turnaround plan, leaders need to set the stage for employees' acceptance of it. At the time of delivery, they must present a framework through which employees can interpret information and messages about the plan. As time passes, they must manage the mood so that employees' emotional states support implementation and follow-through. And at critical intervals, they must provide reinforcement to ensure that the desired changes take hold and that there's no backsliding. Using the example of the dramatic turnaround at Boston's Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, the authors elucidate the inner workings of a successful change effort.

What is the proper role of the instructor in student-professor interactions? What challenges should new teachers expect and what pitfalls should be avoided? New faculty must meet a variety of concurrent demands when they enter an academic career, several for which they have never received any formal training. Various activities broaden the educational scope of the teacher beyond the classroom, and increase interaction with the student body. Many academic communities are settled in smaller university towns, where students and faculty share the community life: this can add another complicating layer. Establishing a strong relationship with a faculty mentor may be among the most important factors determining the success one achieves as a graduate student. So how is balance achieved in managing the multiple roles faculty members play in students' lives? This case reveals the impact of a teacher's personal relationship with students outside the classroom and the challenges of being involved with student development beyond the curriculum.

In 2000, Xerox faces bankruptcy amid a liquidity crisis, collapsed profitability, and an expanding SEC investigation. Traces the career and leadership development of Anne Mulcahy, a former sales executive unexpectedly named COO of the beleaguered company as a last effort to turn Xerox around. Describes how Mulcahy assembles and motivates her team, frames her priorities, and fills her knowledge gaps in the face of critics doubtful of Xerox's ability to change. Raises questions in her mind about stakeholder priorities, employee motivation, difficult strategic trade-offs, and finding profitability while trying to avoid bankruptcy.

Supplements the (A) case.

David Stern, commissioner of the National Basketball Association (NBA), faces myriad challenges: globalization of product, young players entering the league, loss of fan base, etc. Stern must put together a plan for the Board of Governors that confronts these challenges to create a more dynamic, profitable, and strategic organization.

When she becomes chairperson of a large telecommunications board, Irene Charnley must transform the mostly white-led company to be more representative of South Africa's demographics. A rewritten version of an earlier case.

When she becomes chairperson of a large telecommunications board, Irene Charnley must transform the mostly white-led company to be more representative of South Africa's demographics.

Supplements the (A) case.

Talk of cost cutting and layoffs was already in the air in the New York offices of international beverage company Legrand SA. But now everyone is imagining the worst after the sudden and mysterious resignation of Lucien Beaumont, the company's president of U.S. operations. The rumors are flying fast and furious about what prompted his departure and, just as important, who will get Lucien's job. Michael Feldstein is confident that he's a top contender for Lucien's job. Michael, the global category director for rums, believes his stellar brand results and strong track record might earn him the position. Then, with a slight sense of paranoia, he notices Danielle Harcourt--the global category director for vodka and liqueurs and Michael's chief competitor for Lucien's job--networking with some of the Paris executives at a launch party for one of Michael's brands. She has also reached out to at least one of his direct reports. Before he can confront her, Michael gets a call from CEO Pierre Hoffman and a proposition--but not the one he's looking for. In this fictional case study, Michael must weigh the advantages of taking an unexpected post in China against holding his ground in the politically charged New York offices of Legrand. Commenting on this fictional case study in R0501A and R0501Z are Nancy Clifford Widmann, an executive coach, and Amy Dorn Kopelan, the CEO of Bedlam Entertainment, a conference management company; Fred Hassan, the chairman and CEO of Schering-Plough; Allan Cohen, the Edward A. Madden Distinguished Professor in Global Leadership at Babson College; and Gary B. Rhodes, a senior fellow at the Center for Creative Leadership.

A young manager faces an impasse in his career. He goes to see his mentor at the company, who closes the office door, offers the young man a chair, recounts a few war stories, and serves up a few specific pointers about the problem at hand. Then, just as the young manager is getting up to leave, the elder executive adds one small kernel of avuncular wisdom--which the junior manager carries with him through the rest of his career. Such is the nature of business advice. Or is it? The six essays in this article suggest otherwise. Few of the leaders who tell their stories here got their best advice in stereotypical form, as an aphorism or a platitude. For Ogilvy & Mather chief Shelly Lazarus, profound insight came from a remark aimed at relieving the tension of the moment. For Novartis CEO Daniel Vasella, it was an apt comment made on a snowy day back when he was a medical resident. For publishing magnate Earl Graves and Starwood Hotels' Barry Sternlicht, advice they received about trust from early bosses took on ever deeper and more practical meaning as their careers progressed. For Goldman Sachs Chairman Henry Paulson, Jr., it was as much his father's example as it was a specific piece of advice his father handed down to him. And fashion designer Liz Lange rejects the very notion that there's inherent wisdom in accepting other people's advice. As these stories demonstrate, people find wisdom when they least expect to, and they never really know what piece of advice will transcend the moment, profoundly affecting how they later make decisions, evaluate people, and examine--and reexamine--their own actions.

Most designated CEO successors are talented, hardworking, and smart enough to go all the way--yet fail to land the top job. What they don't realize is, the qualities that helped them in their climb to the number two position aren't enough to boost them to No. 1. In addition to running their businesses well, the author explains, would-be CEOs must master the art of forming coalitions and winning support. They must also sharpen their self-awareness and their sensitivity to the needs of bosses and influential peers because they typically receive little performance feedback once they're on track to become CEO. Indeed, the ability to pick up on subtle cues is often an important part of the test. When succession doesn't go well--or fails altogether--many people pay the price. Among those at fault are boards that do not keep a close watch on the succession process, human resources organizations that should have the capacity to help but are not up to the task, and CEOs who do a poor job coaching potential successors. But the aspiring CEO also bears some responsibility. He can dramatically increase his chances of success by understanding his boss's point of view, knowing his own limitations, and managing what psychologist Gerry Egan has called the "shadow organization"--the political side of a company, characterized by unspoken relationships and alliances--without being labeled "political." Most of all, he must learn to conduct himself with a level of maturity and wisdom that signals he is ready--not almost ready--to be chief executive.

Frenzied executives who fidget through meetings, lose track of their appointments, and jab at the "door close" button on the elevator aren't crazy--just crazed. They suffer from a newly recognized neurological phenomenon that the author, a psychiatrist, calls attention deficit trait, or ADT. It isn't an illness; it's purely a response to the hyperkinetic environment in which we live. But it has become epidemic in today's organizations. When a manager is desperately trying to deal with more input than he possibly can, the brain and body get locked into a reverberating circuit while the brain's frontal lobes lose their sophistication, as if vinegar were added to wine. The result is black-and-white thinking; perspective and shades of gray disappear. People with ADT have difficulty staying organized, setting priorities, and managing time, and they feel a constant low level of panic and guilt. It is possible to control ADT by engineering one's environment and one's emotional and physical health. Make time every few hours for a "human moment"--a face-to-face exchange with a person you like. Get enough sleep, switch to a good diet, and get adequate exercise. Break down large tasks into smaller ones, and keep a section of your work space clear. Try keeping a portion of your day free of appointments and e-mail. The author recommends that companies invest in amenities that contribute to a positive atmosphere.

When you're in the midst of a major career change, telling stories about your professional self can inspire others' belief in your character and in your capacity to take a leap and land on your feet. It also can help you believe in yourself. A narrative thread will give meaning to your career history; it will assure you that, in moving on to something new, you are not discarding everything you've worked so hard to accomplish. Unfortunately, the authors explain in this article, most of us fail to use the power of storytelling in pursuit of our professional goals, or we do it badly. Tales of transition are especially challenging. Not knowing how to reconcile the built-in discontinuities in our work lives, we often relay just the facts. We present ourselves as safe--and dull and unremarkable. That's not a necessary compromise. A transition story has inherent dramatic appeal. The protagonist is you, of course, and what's at stake is your career. Perhaps you've come to an event or insight that represents a point of no return. It's this kind of break with the past that will force you to discover and reveal who you really are. Discontinuity and tension are part of the experience. If these elements are missing from your career story, the tale will fall flat. With all these twists and turns, how do you demonstrate stability and earn listeners' trust? By emphasizing continuity and causality--in other words, by showing that your past is related to the present and, from that trajectory, conveying that a solid future is in sight. If you can make your story of transition cohere, you will have gone far in convincing the listener--and reassuring yourself--that the change makes sense for you and is likely to bring success.