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Focusing on promoting success rather than preventing failure can be a powerful tool for achieving one's goals at the bargaining table. Across two studies, the authors find that 'promotion-focused' negotiators pay greater attention to their goals than do 'prevention-focused' negotiators. Attending to goals not only leads negotiators to strive for and achieve them, and thereby accrue more advantageous distributive outcomes, but it also prevents them from simply settling for minimally-acceptable outcomes and compromises. A 'promotion regulatory focus', defined in the article, leads negotiators to discover mutually beneficial trade-offs and achieve solutions optimal for both parties.

Back in 1998, Marks & Spencer (M&S) was the first British retailer to reach a profit of 1 billion pounds. Just a few years later, profits were down to 145 million pounds, and the company's share price stood at two-thirds of its previous high. The problem, says CEO Stuart Rose, was that M&S lost sight of what had made it great for more than a century. In this first-person account, Rose explains that he was hired in the spring of 2004 to turn the company around--just in time to stave off retail investor Philip Green's hostile takeover attempt. He spent his first six weeks convincing reporters, analysts, and investors that he was the one to lead Marks & Spencer back to prosperity. Then, after Green withdrew his bid, Rose put his plans for M&S to work. He knew that three things needed to be done right away: improve the product, improve the stores, and improve the service. One of his first and most important changes was to tighten the reins on inventory. When Rose arrived at M&S, assistant buyers were spending more than 300 million pounds of the company's money without oversight. Management now gets weekly inventory updates. With a keen eye on fundamentals like stock control, Rose has tried to return Marks & Spencer to the levels of profitability it achieved before its sharp decline. Although there is more to do, the company is back on track. In November 2006, M&S posted half-year profits of 405.1 million pounds--up 32.2% from the previous fiscal year. Rose attributes the turnaround almost entirely to a renewed focus on core values. Now, with signs of health in the business, he is thinking about where to take it over the next four or five years, so M&S doesn't get stuck as the largest of the small retailers and the smallest of the large retailers in the United Kingdom.

Almost 50% of the largest American firms will have a new CEO within the next four years; your company could very well be next. Senior executives know that a CEO transition means they're in for a round of firings, organizational reshuffles, and other unwelcome career changes. When your career suddenly depends on the views of a person you may not know, how worried should you be? According to the authors--very. They investigated the 2002-2004 CEO turnover rates of the top 1,000 U.S. companies and interviewed more than a dozen CEOs, each of whom had taken over at least one very large organization. Their study reveals that when a new CEO takes charge, remaining top managers are more likely than not to be shown the door. Those who leave often land in a lower position at a new company, work in a much smaller firm, or retire altogether. The news is not all grim, however. The interviewees offer some pointers on how to create a good impression and maximize your chances of survival and success under the new regime. Some of that advice may surprise you. One CEO pointed out, for instance, that "managers do not realize how much the CEO is looking for teammates on day one. I am amazed at how few people come through the door and say, 'I want to help. I may not be perfect, but I buy into your vision.'" Other recommendations are more intuitive, such as learning the new CEO's working style, understanding his or her agenda, and helping him or her look good in the new position by achieving positive operating results--and soon. Along with the inevitable stresses, the authors point out, CEO transitions can provide opportunities. Whether you reinvigorate your career within your company or find fulfillment elsewhere, the key lies in deciding what you want to do--and then doing it right.

Anyone in management knows that employees have their good days and their bad days--and that, for the most part, the reasons for their ups and downs are unknown. Most managers simply shrug their shoulders at this fact of work life. But does it matter, in terms of performance, if people have more good days than bad days? Teresa Amabile and Steven Kramer's new stream of research, based on more than 12,000 diary entries logged by knowledge workers over three years, reveals the dramatic impact of employees' inner work lives--their perceptions, emotions, and motivation levels--on several dimensions of performance. People perform better when their workday experiences include more positive emotions, stronger intrinsic motivation (passion for the work), and more favorable perceptions of their work, their team, their leaders, and their organization. What the authors also found was that managers' behavior dramatically affects the tenor of employees' inner work lives. So what makes a difference to inner work life? When the authors compared the study participants' best days to their worst days, they found that the single most important differentiator was their sense of being able to make progress in their work. The authors also observed interpersonal events working in tandem with progress events. Praise without real work progress, or at least solid efforts toward progress, had little positive impact on people's inner work lives and could even arouse cynicism. On the other hand, good work progress without any recognition--or, worse, with criticism about trivial issues--could engender anger and sadness. Far and away, the best boosts to inner work life were episodes in which people knew they had done good work and their managers appropriately recognized that work.

How can companies break into attractive markets, where incumbents erect many barriers to entry? To answer this question, the authors studied organizations that successfully entered the most profitable industries in the United States between 1990 and 2000. When they dissected the strategies that worked best, one common theme stood out: indirect assault. Smart newcomers don't duplicate existing business models, compete for crowded distribution channels, or go after mainstream customers right away. Instead, they attack the enemy at its weakest points; then gain competitive advantage; and later, if doing so meets their objectives, go after its strongholds. Recent battles in the soft drink industry--where brands, bottling and distribution capabilities, and shelf space are incumbents' main advantages--are a case in point. When Virgin Drinks entered the U.S. cola market in 1998, it advertised heavily and immediately tried to get into the retail outlets that stock the leading brands. Virgin has never garnered more than a 1% share of the market. Red Bull, by contrast, came on the scene in 1997 with a niche product: a carbonated energy drink. The company started by selling the drink at bars and nightclubs. After gaining a loyal following through these outlets, Red Bull elbowed its way into the corner store. In 2005 it enjoyed a 65% share of the $650 million energy drink market. Successful entrants use three basic approaches in their indirect attacks. They leverage their existing assets and resources, reconfigure their value chains, and create niches. These approaches may appear to be simple, but their magic lies in their combination. By mixing and matching them, Bryce and Dyer say, enterprises can defy half a century of economic logic and make money entering highly profitable industries. The authors use Skype, Costco, Skechers, and many other companies to illustrate their argument.

For many senior executives, shifting from selling products to selling solutions--packages of products and services--is a priority in today's increasingly commoditized markets. Companies, however, aren't always structured to make that shift. Knowledge and expertise often reside in silos, and many companies have trouble harnessing their resources across those boundaries in a way that customers value and are willing to pay for. Some companies--like GE Healthcare, Best Buy, and commercial real estate provider Jones Lang LaSalle (JLL)--have restructured themselves around customer needs to deliver true solutions. They did so by engaging in four sets of activities: Coordination. To deliver customer-focused solutions, three things must occur easily across boundaries: information sharing, division of labor, and decision making. Sometimes this involves replacing traditional silos with customer-focused ones, but more often it entails transcending existing boundaries. JLL has experimented with both approaches. Cooperation. Customer-centric companies, such as Cisco Systems, develop metrics for customer satisfaction and incentives that reward customer-focused cooperation. Most also shake up the power structure so that people who are closest to customers have the authority to act on their behalf. Capability. Delivering customer-focused solutions requires some employees to be generalists instead of specialists. They need experience with more than one product or service, a deep knowledge of customer needs, and the ability to traverse internal boundaries. Connection. By combining their offerings with those of a partner, companies can cut costs even as they create higher-value solutions, as Starbucks has found through its diverse partnerships. To stand out in a commoditized market, companies must understand what customers value. Ultimately, some customers may be better off purchasing products and services piecemeal.

When Francois Jacques became head of marketing at Lafarge's cement division in late 2001, old-timers told him that there were only two types of customers: those who liked golf and those who liked fishing. Welcome to the front lines of your typical cement company, a hardscrabble world peopled by grizzled salesmen whose pitches are about making friends rather than demonstrating that their products are better than the competition's. It isn't easy to establish a marketing function in a company that doesn't think it needs one. From the start, Jacques tackled the challenge on a number of fronts. First, he formed a three-person steering committee with both his strongest ally and his most vociferous foe in the executive ranks. Then he set right to work applying marketing's most basic and powerful tools--segmentation and pricing strategy--to four carefully chosen pilot projects. To make the value of those efforts quickly apparent, he measured their effectiveness with readily understood metrics. He shared the ongoing results as widely as possible by establishing regional networks of marketing and sales executives. He wove marketing into Lafarge's mainstream management processes by becoming a fixture at the company's strategic-planning, performance, and budgeting discussions. Step by step, over the next four years, Jacques and his team of first temporary, and then permanent, marketers fundamentally transformed Lafarge's commodity mind-set. Segmenting customers allowed people to see that they were selling to different groups that required different products, which in many cases could be sold for higher-than-commodity prices. Customer satisfaction surveys led them to improve supply chain execution and, ultimately, to change what they sold, so that their offerings were suited to a range of customer requirements, increasing value both for them and for the division.

In the business world, "creativity" has become the latest buzzword. How to attract, nurture, and direct the extraordinarily talented people who will come up with the next Lipitor, Sony Walkman, or iPod is an enduring topic among businesspeople. As the director of the MacArthur Fellows Program, Daniel J. Socolow has considerable experience with the process of rooting out creativity. In this conversation with HBR senior editor Diane Coutu, he describes how recipients of the "genius grant"--half a million dollars with no strings attached--are chosen. As significant as the money is, the recognition that comes with a fellowship may be more so. MacArthur grants provide powerful validation of the fellows' work, Socolow says, and that validation opens doors for people, whatever the field. Although the program keeps a lookout for entrepreneurs who are on the brink of major new advances, he believes that the market does a good job of rewarding the best ideas in the business. Replicating the MacArthur model in a company would entail giving some employees unlimited time and lots of money to follow their own inclinations--not very feasible in most contexts. Nevertheless, the program has learned a lesson that may be valuable for business: The kind of creativity that leads to important breakthroughs is extremely hard to find. And, says Socolow, exceptionally creative people aren't always the obvious suspects, who may simply be good at promoting themselves: "Listen to others and look in the least likely places ...Extend your networks and try to get information from as many people as possible, just as we do."

The high failure rate among new business ventures is usually chalked up to the fundamental uncertainty of the process. In actuality, say McGrath and Keil, flawed ways of assessing and managing ventures may account for the disappointing amount of value they generate. Instead of taking the go/no-go approach, whereby a project either advances toward launch or is killed, decision makers should consider a range of alternatives: recycling the venture by aiming it at a new target market; spinning it off to other owners or a joint venture; spinning it into an established business unit; or salvaging useful elements such as technologies, capabilities, knowledge, and patents. Firms that excel in value extraction--the "value captors" whose practices and mind-set this article explores--have created formal processes to systematically mine successes, failures, and everything in between. They know that a venture should be treated like a scientific experiment, in which learning plays a critical role. They are ready to seize new opportunities if a venture falters on its original course. They foster networks to promote cooperation and collaboration between established business leaders and venture teams and involve people from throughout the company in the venture review process. They don't allow financial criteria to dominate the reviews, and they recognize that the best people to launch a business may not be the ones who developed the idea. If your innovation pipeline is dry, your promising projects are being strangled for lack of a speedy payback, or someone else has made a fabulous business out of a slightly altered idea that you abandoned, consider the value captor's path.

Shortly after Jim Hackett became CEO of Steelcase in 1994, the office furniture manufacturer introduced two products. The Leap chair was a great success. But the Pathways office cubicle system ran into trouble from the start, plagued by R&D disputes, distribution misunderstandings, and product recalls. How could a company fail as well as succeed? Hackett traced the root of the matter to something many organizations would see as a virtue: the company's "can do" attitude. People at Steelcase were not spending enough time thinking things through before they jumped to execute. Hackett set out to transform Steelcase's "doing" culture into a "thinking before doing" culture. After much research, he developed a four-part process to give development teams at Steelcase the mental tools, intellectual resources, and time they needed to think a project through to completion. In the think phase, the team finds out as much about a potential project as possible. Team members ask questions, contact experts, do research, and come up with a range of options. In the point-of-view phase, they select the option they will pursue. Once the point of view is formed and cleared with the company, all second-guessing comes to an end and, in the plan-to-implement phase, the group determines the process by which the project will be completed. Only after full-scale practice runs with everyone involved does the project actually go forward in the implementation stage. It takes a great deal of courage and confidence for people anxious to storm the world to slow down and explore all their options first, Hackett acknowledges. But by bringing thinking and doing into the proper balance, everyone is much better prepared to meet the future.

The success of an executive team depends heavily on the relationships the boss has with his or her direct reports. Yet the leadership literature has had little to say about what is expected in those relationships--on either side. Larry Bossidy, formerly the chairman and CEO of Honeywell, and before that of AlliedSignal, shares what he calls "the CEO compact," detailing the behaviors a leader should look for in subordinates and what they should be able to expect in return. A CEO's best people, he says, know when a situation calls for them to get involved. They generate ideas--remembering that some of the best ones may sound crazy at first. They are willing to collaborate, putting the long-term good of the company above short-term goals of their divisions. They step up to lead initiatives, even if the outcome is uncertain. They develop leaders among their people, especially through direct involvement in performance appraisals. They stay current on world events and anticipate how those events may affect the company and its competition. They drive their own growth by exposing themselves to new people and ideas and by accepting demanding assignments. And they sustain these behaviors in bad times as well as good. On the other side of the compact, the boss should provide clarity of direction; set goals and objectives; give frequent, specific, and immediate feedback; be decisive and timely; demonstrate honesty and candor; and offer an equitable compensation plan. Executives who aren't lucky enough to have such a boss can create a compact with their own subordinates, Bossidy says, and demonstrate by example. The result will be to improve team and company performance and accelerate individual growth.

How do you know when your core needs to change? And how do you determine what should replace it? From an in-depth study of 25 companies, the author, a strategy consultant, has discovered that it's possible to measure the vitality of a business's core. If it needs reinvention, he says, the best course is to mine hidden assets. Some of the 25 companies were in deep crisis when they began the process of redefining themselves. But, says Zook, management teams can learn to recognize early signs of erosion. He offers five diagnostic questions with which to evaluate the customers, key sources of differentiation, profit pools, capabilities, and organizational culture of your core business. The next step is strategic regeneration. In four-fifths of the companies Zook examined, a hidden asset was the centerpiece of the new strategy. He provides a map for identifying the hidden assets in your midst, which tend to fall into three categories: undervalued business platforms, untapped insights into customers, and underexploited capabilities. The Swedish company Dometic, for example, was manufacturing small absorption refrigerators for boats and RVs when it discovered a hidden asset: its understanding of, and access to, customers in the RV market. The company took advantage of a boom in that market to refocus on complete systems for live-in vehicles. The Danish company Novozymes, which produced relatively low-tech commodity enzymes such as those used in detergents, realized that its underutilized biochemical capability in genetic and protein engineering was a hidden asset and successfully refocused on creating bioengineered specialty enzymes. Your next core business is not likely to announce itself with fanfare. Use the author's tools to conduct an internal audit of possibilities and pinpoint your new focus.

Critical initiatives stall for a variety of reasons--employee disengagement, a lack of coordination between functions, complex organizational structures that obscure accountability, and so on. To overcome such obstacles, managers must fundamentally rethink how work gets done. Most of the challenges stem from broken or poorly crafted commitments. That's because every company is, at its heart, a dynamic network of promises made between employees and colleagues, customers, outsourcing partners, or other stakeholders. Executives can overcome many problems in the short term and foster productive, reliable workforces for the long term by practicing what the authors call "promise-based management," which involves cultivating and coordinating commitments in a systematic way. Good promises share five qualities: They are public, active, voluntary, explicit, and mission based. To develop and execute an effective promise, the "provider" and the "customer" in the deal should go through three phases of conversation. The first, achieving a meeting of minds, entails exploring the fundamental questions of coordinated effort: What do you mean? Do you understand what I mean? What should I do? What will you do? Who else should we talk to? In the next phase, making it happen, the provider executes on the promise. In the final phase, closing the loop, the customer publicly declares that the provider has either delivered the goods or failed to do so. Leaders must weave and manage their webs of promises with great care--encouraging iterative conversation and making sure commitments are fulfilled reliably. If they do, they can enhance coordination and cooperation among colleagues, build the organizational agility required to seize new business opportunities, and tap employees' entrepreneurial energies.

Senior leadership teams whose members play complementary roles have been chronicled as far back as Homer's account of the Trojan War: Although King Agamemnon commanded the Greek army, Achilles, Odysseus, and Nestor each played a distinct role in defeating Troy. Today, complementary leadership structures are common and, in some cases, even institutionalized. Think of a CEO concerned mainly with external issues and a COO who focuses internally. The authors describe four kinds of complementarity: task, expertise, cognitive, and role. The two top executives at the software company Adobe Systems, for example, represent the second kind. As CEO, Bruce Chizen draws on his sales and marketing knowledge, while COO Shantanu Narayen adds his engineering and product development expertise. Roberto Goizueta, formerly the CEO of Coca-Cola, and Douglas Ivester, his COO (who later became CEO), were famous examples of the fourth type: Goizueta, the diplomat, maintained good relations with external stakeholders; Ivester, the warrior, drove the company to defeat the competition. Bringing together two or more people with complementary strengths can compensate for the natural limitations of each. But with the benefits comes the risk of confusion, disagreement about priorities, and turf battles. Leadership succession also presents substantial challenges, especially when a COO or president who has worked in a complementary fashion with the CEO moves into the top role. An organization's board of directors and CEO can manage the risks by fostering a shared vision, common incentives, communication, and trust. They can also ensure smooth succession processes in various ways, such as brokering a gradual transfer of responsibilities or allowing the CEO and the COO to share duties as long as they maintain the logic of complementarity.

How does a large multinational keep thousands of employees, operating in hundreds of countries, honest in a high-pressure business environment? As the chief legal officer at General Electric for nearly 20 years, Ben Heineman was part of the senior management group that sought to do just that--to make sure its executives and employees are moved to do the right thing as strongly as they are motivated to make their numbers. Heineman describes a set of systems that combine the communication of clear expectations with oversight, deterrence, and incentives. Nowhere are the expectations higher--and the sanctions more powerful--than for top executives. Heineman recounts example after example of senior leaders terminated for ethical lapses even when the business consequences of doing so were painful--and even when they had no direct knowledge of the violations occurring on their watch. To make expectations clear throughout the company, GE has systematically sought to set uniform standards that stay well ahead of current legal developments and stakeholders' changing attitudes about corporate accountability. Responsibility for implementing those standards, which are embedded in GE's operating practices, rests with the business leaders in the field. Oversight is both methodical and multifaceted. A host of auditing and assessment systems enables GE to compare the performance of its various business units against one another and against industry benchmarks. Perhaps the most powerful is the company's ombudsman system, which doesn't just allow but requires employees to lodge concerns. Failures to report into the system or up the line, or retaliation in any form, are firing offenses. The current intense focus on board-level governance has missed the point, Heineman argues. It is time to shift the debate from board oversight of the CEO to how top company leaders can most effectively infuse integrity at all levels of the corporation.

Few executives question the idea that by redesigning business processes--work that runs from end to end across an enterprise--they can achieve extraordinary improvements in cost, quality, speed, profitability, and other key areas. Yet in spite of their intentions and investments, many executives flounder, unsure about what exactly needs to be changed, by how much, and when. As a result, many organizations make little progress--if any at all--in their attempts to transform business processes. Michael Hammer has spent the past five years working with a group of leading companies to develop the Process and Enterprise Maturity Model (PEMM), a new framework that helps executives comprehend, formulate, and assess process-based transformation efforts. He has identified two distinct groups of characteristics that are needed for business processes to perform exceptionally well over a long period of time. Process enablers, which affect individual processes, determine how well a process is able to function. They are mutually interdependent--if any are missing, the others will be ineffective. However, enablers are not enough to develop high-performance processes; they only provide the potential to deliver high performance. A company must also possess or establish organizational capabilities that allow the business to offer a supportive environment. Together, the enablers and the capabilities provide an effective way for companies to plan and evaluate process-based transformations. PEMM is different from other frameworks, such as Capability Maturity Model Integration (CMMI), because it applies to all industries and all processes. The author describes how several companies--including Michelin, CSAA, Tetra Pak, Shell, Clorox, and Schneider National--have successfully used PEMM in various ways and at different stages to evaluate the progress of their process-based transformation efforts.

Most companies do a thorough job of financial due diligence when they acquire other companies. But all too often, deal makers simply ignore or underestimate the significance of people issues in mergers and acquisitions. The consequences are severe. Most obviously, there's a high degree of talent loss after a deal's announcement. To make matters worse, differences in decision-making styles lead to infighting; integration stalls; and productivity declines. The good news is that human due diligence can help companies avoid these problems. Done early enough, it helps acquirers decide whether to embrace or kill a deal and determine the price they are willing to pay. It also lays the groundwork for smooth integration. When acquirers have done their homework, they can uncover capability gaps, points of friction, and differences in decision making. Even more important, they can make the critical "people" decisions--who stays, who goes, who runs the combined business, what to do with the rank and file--at the time the deal is announced or shortly thereafter. Making such decisions within the first 30 days is critical to the success of a deal. Hostile situations clearly make things more difficult, but companies can and must still do a certain amount of human due diligence to reduce the inevitable fallout from the acquisition process and smooth the integration. This article details the steps involved in conducting human due diligence. The approach is structured around answering five basic questions: Who is the cultural acquirer? What kind of organization do you want? Will the two cultures mesh? Who are the people you most want to retain? And how will rank-and-file employees react to the deal? Unless an acquiring company has answered these questions to its satisfaction, the acquisition it is making will be very likely to end badly.

Rough schooling helps multinationals from small or developing countries become formidable global competitors.

The failed McDonald's hotel project is a good example of a "real option"--a set investment for an uncertain but potentially high return--and shows that the company is willing to nurture innovation.

More women than men at Fortune 1000 firms have reached executive officer positions in their 30s, 40s, and 50s--and they've done it faster. Still, nearly half of those companies lack female executive officers altogether.