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This is an MIT Sloan Management Review article. Futurists have long anticipated the day when computers would relieve managers and professionals of the need to make certain types of decisions. But automated decision making has been slow to materialize. Argues that automated decision making is finally coming of age and the new generation of applications differs substantially from prior decision-support systems. Today's applications are easier to create and manage than earlier systems. Rather than require people to identify the problems or to initiate the analysis, companies typically embed decision-making capabilities in the normal flow of work. Those systems then sense online data, apply codified knowledge or logic, and make decisions--all with minimal amounts of human intervention. They can help businesses generate decisions that are more consistent than those made by people, and they can help managers move quickly from insight to decision to action--helping companies reduce labor costs, leverage scarce expertise, improve quality, enforce policies, and respond to customers. As automating decisions becomes more feasible, organizations need to think about which decisions people must make and which can be computerized.

What does it mean to be a high-performance company? The process of measuring relative performance across industries and eras, declaring top performers, and finding the common drivers of their success is such a difficult one that it might seem a fool's errand to attempt. In fact, no one did for the first thousand or so years of business history. The question didn't even occur to many scholars until Tom Peters and Bob Waterman released In Search of Excellence in 1982. Twenty-three years later, we've witnessed several more attempts--and, just maybe, we're getting closer to answers. In this reported piece, HBR senior editor Julia Kirby explores why it's so difficult to study high performance and how various research efforts--including those from John Kotter and Jim Heskett; Jim Collins and Jerry Porras; Bill Joyce, Nitin Nohria, and Bruce Roberson; and several others outlined in a summary chart--have attacked the problem. The challenge starts with deciding which companies to study closely. Are the stars the ones with the highest market caps, the ones with the greatest sales growth, or simply the ones that remain standing at the end of the game? (And when's the end of the game?) Each major study differs in how it defines success, which companies it therefore declares to be worthy of emulation, and the patterns of activity and attitude it finds in common among them. Yet, Kirby concludes, as each study's method incrementally solves problems others have faced, we are progressing toward a consensus theory of high performance.

Some teams, by the very nature of their work, must consistently perform at the highest levels. How do you--as a team leader, a supervisor, a trainer, or an outside coach--ensure that this happens? To answer this question, Harvard Business Review asked six people who work with high-performance teams to comment on developing and managing these teams. The result is a collection of commentaries from Michael Hillmann, deputy chief of the Los Angeles Police Department and commander of its Special Operations Bureau, which includes the SWAT team; Philippe Dongier, who headed up a joint United Nations/World Bank/Asian Development Bank reconstruction team in Afghanistan after the fall of the Taliban; the National Fire Academy's Robert Murgallis, who trains firefighting teams; Mary Khosh, former career coach for players with the Cleveland Browns; Elizabeth Allen, a planner of society weddings, charity galas, and corporate events; and Ray Evernham, who, as a stock-car-racing crew chief, helped driver Jeff Gordon win three NASCAR championships. The types of teams represented in these commentaries are very different. Some are ad hoc, formed for a specific task, while others are ongoing, typically improving their performance with each task they undertake. For all of them, the stakes are high. Despite their differences, some similarities emerge in the ways they achieve top performance. For example, selection of team members is crucial--as is a willingness to get rid of members who don't consistently deliver. A leader who supports and builds confidence in members is also key, and high-performance teams without such a leader will often informally create one. Finally, the stress that defines the work of these teams helps generate peak short-term performance--and poses the constant risk of members burning out.

Tales of great strategies derailed by poor execution are all too common. That's because some organizations are designed to fail. For a company to achieve its potential, each employee's supply of organizational resources should equal the demand, and the same balance must apply to every business unit and to the company as a whole. To carry out his or her job, each employee has to know the answers to four basic questions: What resources do I control to accomplish my tasks? What measures will be used to evaluate my performance? Whom do I need to interact with and influence to achieve my goals? And how much support can I expect when I reach out to others for help? The questions correspond to what the author calls the four basic spans of a job--control, accountability, influence, and support. Each span can be adjusted so that it is narrow or wide or somewhere in between. If you get the settings right, you can design a job in which a talented individual can successfully execute on your company's strategy. If you get the settings wrong, it will be difficult for an employee to be effective. The first step is to set the span of control to reflect the resources allocated to each position and unit that plays an important role in delivering customer value. This setting, like the others, is determined by how the business creates value for customers and differentiates its products and services. Next, you can dial in different levels of entrepreneurial behavior and creative tension by widening or narrowing spans of accountability and influence. Finally, you must adjust the span of support to ensure that the job or unit will get the informal help it needs. This article includes a one-page preview that quickly summarizes the key ideas and provides an overview of how the concepts work in practice along with suggestions for further reading. This product can be used with the free Job Design Optimization Tool (JDOT), available at: hbsp.harvard.edu/jdot

Despite the enormous time and energy that goes into strategy development, many companies have little to show for their efforts. Indeed, research by the consultancy Marakon Associates suggests that companies on average deliver only 63% of the financial performance their strategies promise. In this article, Michael Mankins and Richard Steele of Marakon present the findings of this research. They draw on their experience with high-performing companies like Barclays, Cisco, Dow Chemical, 3M, and Roche to establish some basic rules for setting and delivering strategy: Keep it simple, make it concrete. Avoid long, drawn-out descriptions of lofty goals and instead stick to clear language describing what your company will and won't do. Debate assumptions, not forecasts. Create cross-functional teams drawn from strategy, marketing, and finance to ensure the assumptions underlying your long-term plans reflect both the real economics of your company's markets and its actual performance relative to competitors. Use a rigorous analytic framework. Ensure that the dialogue between the corporate center and the business units about market trends and assumptions is conducted within a rigorous framework, such as that of "profit pools." Discuss resource deployments early. Create more realistic forecasts and more executable plans by discussing up-front the level and timing of critical deployments. Clearly identify priorities. Prioritize tactics so that employees have a clear sense of where to direct their efforts. Continuously monitor performance. Track resource deployment and results against plan, using continuous feedback to reset assumptions and reallocate resources. Reward and develop execution capabilities. Motivate and develop staff. Following these rules strictly can help narrow the strategy-to-performance gap.

When we do our best work as leaders, we don't imitate others. Rather, we draw on our own values and capabilities. We enter what author Robert Quinn calls the fundamental state of leadership. This is a frame of mind we tend to adopt when facing a significant challenge: a promotion opportunity, the risk of professional failure, a serious illness, a divorce, the death of a loved one, or any other major life jolt. Crisis calls, and we rise to the occasion. But we don't need to spend time in the dark night of the soul to reach this fundamental state. We can make the shift at any time by asking ourselves--and honestly answering--four transformative questions: Am I results centered? (Am I willing to leave my comfort zone to make things happen?) Am I internally directed? (Am I behaving according to my values rather than bending to social or political pressures?) Am I other focused? (Am I putting the collective good above my own needs?) Am I externally open? (Am I receptive to outside stimuli that may signal the need for change?) When we can answer these questions in the affirmative, we're prepared to lead in the truest sense. Of course, we can't sustain the fundamental state of leadership indefinitely. Fatigue and external resistance pull us out of it. But each time we reach it, we then return to our everyday selves a bit more capable, and we usually boost the performance of the people around us. Over time, we create a high-performance culture--and one that can be sustained.

The U.S. Army's Opposing Force (OPFOR) is a 2,500-member brigade whose job is to help prepare soldiers for combat. Created to be the meanest, toughest foe that soldiers will ever face, OPFOR engages units-in-training in a variety of mock campaigns under a wide range of conditions. Every month, a fresh brigade of more than 4,000 soldiers takes on this standing enemy. OPFOR, which is stationed in the California desert, always has the home-court advantage. But the force being trained--called BLUFOR--is numerically and technologically superior. It possesses more resources and better, more available data. It is made up of experienced soldiers. And it knows just what to expect, because OPFOR shares its methods from previous campaigns with BLUFOR's commanders. In short, each BLUFOR brigade is given practically every edge. Yet OPFOR almost always wins. Underlying OPFOR's consistent success is the way it uses the after action review (AAR), a method for extracting lessons from one event or project and applying them to others. AAR meetings became a popular business tool after Shell Oil began experimenting with them in 1998. Most corporate AARs, however, are faint echoes of the rigorous reviews performed by OPFOR. Companies tend to treat the process as a pro-forma wrap-up, drawing lessons from an action but rarely learning them. OPFOR's AARs, by contrast, generate raw material that is fed back into the execution cycle. And while OPFOR's reviews extract numerous lessons, the brigade does not consider a lesson to be learned until it is successfully applied and validated. It might not make sense for companies to adopt OPFOR's AAR processes in their entirety, but four fundamentals are mandatory: Lessons must benefit the team that extracts them; the AAR process must start at the beginning of the activity; lessons must link explicitly to future actions; and leaders must hold everyone, especially themselves, accountable for learning.

Corporate leaders seeking to boost growth, learning, and innovation may find the answer in a surprising place: the Linux open-source software community. Linux is developed by an essentially volunteer, self-organizing community of thousands of programmers. Most leaders would sell their grandmothers for workforces that collaborate as efficiently, frictionlessly, and creatively as the self-styled Linux hackers. But Linux is software, and software is hardly a model for mainstream business. The authors have, nonetheless, found surprising parallels between the anarchistic, caffeinated, hirsute world of Linux hackers and the disciplined, tea-sipping, clean-cut world of Toyota engineering. Specifically, Toyota and Linux operate by rules that blend the self-organizing advantages of markets with the low transaction costs of hierarchies. In place of markets' cash and contracts and hierarchies' authority are rules about how individuals and groups work together (with rigorous discipline); how they communicate (widely and with granularity); and how leaders guide them toward a common goal (by example). Those rules, augmented by simple communication technologies and a lack of legal barriers to sharing information, create rich common knowledge, the ability to organize teams modularly, extraordinary motivation, and high levels of trust, which radically lowers transaction costs. Low transaction costs, in turn, make it profitable for organizations to perform more and smaller transactions--and so increase the pace and flexibility typical of high-performance organizations. After the system achieves critical mass, it feeds on itself. The larger the system, the more broadly shared the knowledge, language, and work style. The greater individuals' reputational capital, the louder the applause and the stronger the motivation. The success of Linux is evidence of the power of that virtuous circle. Toyota's success is evidence that it is also powerful in conventional companies.

If sales and service organizations are to improve, they must learn to measure and manage the quality of the employee-customer encounter. Quality improvement methodologies such as Six Sigma are extremely useful in manufacturing contexts, but they're less useful when it comes to human interactions. To address this problem, the authors have developed a quality improvement approach they refer to as Human Sigma. It weaves together a consistent method for assessing the employee-customer encounter and a disciplined process for managing and improving it. There are several core principles for measuring and managing the employee-customer encounter: It's important not to think like an economist or an engineer when assessing interactions because emotions inform both sides' judgments and behavior. The employee-customer encounter must be measured and managed locally, because there are enormous variations in quality at the work-group and individual levels. And to improve the quality of the employee-customer interaction, organizations must conduct both short-term, transactional interventions and long-term, transformational ones. Employee engagement and customer engagement are intimately connected--and, taken together, they have an outsized effect on financial performance. They, therefore, need to be managed holistically. That is, the responsibility for measuring and monitoring the health of employee-customer relationships must reside within a single organizational structure, with an executive champion who has the authority to initiate and manage change. Nevertheless, the local manager remains the single most important factor in local group performance. A local manager whose work group shows suboptimal performance should be encouraged to conduct interventions, such as targeted training, performance reviews, action learning, and individual coaching.

Managing a traditional team seems pretty straightforward: Gather up whoever's available, give them time and space to do their jobs, and make sure they all play nicely together. But these teams produce results that are often as unremarkable as the teams themselves. When big change and high performance are required, a virtuoso team is far more likely to deliver outstanding and innovative results. Virtuoso teams are fundamentally different from the garden-variety work groups that most organizations form to pursue more modest goals. They comprise the top experts in their particular fields, are specially convened for ambitious projects, work with frenetic rhythm, and emanate a discernible energy. Not surprisingly, however, the superstars who make up these teams are renowned for being elitist, temperamental, egocentric, and difficult to work with. As a result, many managers fear that if they force such people to interact on a high-stakes project, the group just might implode. In this article, Bill Fischer and Andy Boynton put the inner workings of highly successful virtuoso teams on full display through three examples: the creative group behind West Side Story, the team of writers for Sid Caesar's 1950s-era television hit Your Show of Shows, and the high-powered technologists who averted an investor relations crisis for Norsk Hydro, the Norwegian energy giant. Each of these teams accomplished enormous goals and changed their businesses, their customers, even their industries. And they did so by breaking all the conventional rules of collaboration--from the way they recruited the best members to the way they enforced their unusual processes and from the high expectations they held to the exceptional results they produced.

A company's most important asset isn't raw materials, transportation systems, or political influence. It's creative capital--simply put, an arsenal of creative thinkers whose ideas can be turned into valuable products and services. Creative employees pioneer new technologies, birth new industries, and power economic growth. If you want your company to succeed, these are the people you entrust it to. But how do you accommodate the complex and chaotic nature of the creative process while increasing efficiency, improving quality, and raising productivity? Most businesses haven't figured this out. A notable exception is SAS Institute, the world's largest privately held software company. SAS makes Fortune's 100 Best Companies to Work For list every year. The company has enjoyed low employee turnover, high customer satisfaction, and 28 straight years of revenue growth. What's the secret to all this success? The authors, an academic and a CEO, approach this question differently, but they've come to the same conclusion: SAS has learned how to harness the creative energies of all its stakeholders, including its customers, software developers, managers, and support staff. Its framework for managing creativity rests on three guiding principles. First, help employees do their best work by keeping them intellectually engaged and by removing distractions. Second, make managers responsible for sparking creativity and eliminate arbitrary distinctions between "suits" and "creatives." And third, engage customers as creative partners so you can deliver superior products. Underlying all three principles is a mandate to foster interaction--not just to collect individuals' ideas. By nurturing relationships among developers, salespeople, and customers, SAS is investing in its future creative capital.

Boards of directors typically believe that transforming a company from good to great requires an extreme personality, an egocentric chief to lead the corporate charge. Think "Chainsaw" Al Dunlap or Lee Iacocca. But that's not the case, says author and leadership expert Jim Collins. The essential ingredient for taking a company to greatness is having a "Level 5" leader, an executive in whom extreme personal humility blends paradoxically with intense professional will. In this January 2001 article, Collins paints a compelling and counterintuitive portrait of the skills and personality traits necessary for effective leadership. He identifies the characteristics common to Level 5 leaders: humility, will, ferocious resolve, and the tendency to give credit to others while assigning blame to themselves. Collins fleshes out his Level 5 theory by telling colorful tales about 11 such leaders from recent business history. He contrasts the turnaround successes of outwardly humble, even shy, executives like Gillette's Colman M. Mockler and Kimberly-Clark's Darwin E. Smith with those of larger-than-life business leaders like Dunlap and Iacocca, who courted personal celebrity. Some leaders have the Level 5 seed within; some don't. But Collins suggests using the findings from his research to strive for Level 5--for instance, by getting the right people on board and creating a culture of discipline. "Our own lives and all that we touch will be the better for making the effort," he concludes.

In the early 1970s, when Canon took its first halting steps in reprographics, the idea of a fledgling Japanese company challenging Xerox seemed impossible. Fifteen years later, it matched the U.S. giant in global unit market share. The basis for Canon's success? A different approach to strategy, one that emphasized an organization's resourcefulness above the resources it controlled. In this McKinsey Award-winning article, first published in May 1989, Gary Hamel and C.K. Prahalad explain that Western companies have wasted too much time and energy replicating the cost and quality advantages their global competitors already experience. Familiar concepts like strategic fit and competitive advantage can foster a static approach to competition, while familiar techniques like portfolio planning and competitor analysis lead to strategies that rivals can easily decode. The sum total is a pathology of surrender that leads many managers to abandon businesses instead of build them. Canon and other world-class competitors have taken a different approach to strategy: one of strategic intent. They begin with a goal that exceeds the company's present grasp and existing resources: "Beat Xerox"; "encircle Caterpillar." Then they rally the organization to close the gap by setting challenges that focus employees' efforts in the near to medium term: "Build a personal copier to sell for $1,000"; "cut product development time by 75%." Year after year, they emphasize competitive innovation--building a portfolio of competitive advantages; searching markets for "loose bricks" that rivals have left underdefended; changing the terms of competitive engagement to avoid playing by the leader's rules. The result is a global leadership position and an approach to competition that has reduced larger, stronger Western rivals to playing an endless game of catch-up.

Groups don't become teams just because that is what someone calls them. Nor do teamwork values alone ensure team performance. So what is a team? How can managers know when the team option makes sense, and what can they do to ensure team success? In this groundbreaking March 1993 article, authors Jon Katzenbach and Douglas Smith answer these questions and outline the discipline that defines a real team. The essence of a team is shared commitment. Without it, groups perform as individuals; with it, they become a powerful unit of collective performance. The best teams invest a tremendous amount of time shaping a purpose that they can own. They also translate their purpose into specific performance goals. And members of successful teams pitch in and become accountable with and to their teammates. The fundamental distinction between teams and other forms of working groups turns on performance. A working group relies on the individual contributions of its members for collective performance. But a team strives for something greater than its members could achieve individually: An effective team is always worth more than the sum of its parts. The authors identify three kinds of teams: those that recommend things--task forces or project groups; those that make or do things--manufacturing, operations, or marketing groups; and those that run things--groups that oversee some significant functional activity. For managers, the key is knowing where in the organization these teams should be encouraged. Managers who can foster team development in the right place at the right time prime their organizations for top performance.

Executives know that a company's measurement systems strongly affect employee behaviors. But the traditional financial performance measures that worked for the industrial era are out of sync with the skills organizations are trying to master. Frustrated by these inadequacies, some man­agers have abandoned financial measures like return on equity and earnings per share. "Make operational improvements, and the numbers will follow," the argument goes. But managers want a balanced presentation of measures that will allow them to view the company from several perspectives at once. In this classic article from 1992, authors Robert Kaplan and David Norton propose an innovative solution. During a yearlong research project with 12 companies at the leading edge of performance management, the authors developed a "balanced scorecard," a new performance measurement system that gives top managers a fast but comprehensive view of their business. The balanced scorecard includes financial measures that tell the results of actions already taken. And it complements those financial measures with three sets of operational measures related to customer satisfaction, internal processes, and the organization's ability to learn and improve-the activities that drive future financial performance. The balanced scorecard helps managers look at their businesses from four essential perspectives and answer some important questions. First, How do customers see us? Second, What must we excel at? Third, Can we continue to improve and create value? And fourth, How do we appear to shareholders? By looking at all of these parameters, managers can determine whether improvements in one area have come at the expense of another. Armed with that knowledge, the authors say, executives can glean a complete picture of where the company stands-and where it's headed.

With emerging markets like China and politically unstable countries like Saudi Arabia figuring more than ever into companies' investment calculations, business leaders are turning to political risk analysis to measure the impact of politics on potential markets, minimize risks, and make the most of global opportunities. But political risk is more subjective than its economic counterpart. It is influenced by the passage of laws, the foibles of government leaders, and the rise of popular movements. So corporate leaders must grapple not just with broad, easily observable trends but also with nuances of society and even quirks of personality. And those hard-to-quantify factors must constantly be pieced together into an ongoing narrative within historical and regional contexts. As goods, services, information, ideas, and people cross borders today with unprecedented velocity, corporations debating operational or infrastructural investments abroad increasingly need objective, rigorous assessments. One tool for measuring and presenting stability data, for example, incorporates 20 composite indicators of risk in emerging markets and scores risk variables according to both their structural and their temporal components. The indicators are then organized into four equally weighted subcategories whose ratings are aggregated into a single stability score. Companies can buy political risk analyses from consultants or develop them in-house.

It's no easy task to identify strategies for entering new international markets or to decide which countries to do business with. Many firms simply go with what they know--and fall far short of their goals. Part of the problem is that emerging markets have "institutional voids": They lack specialized intermediaries, regulatory systems, and contract-enforcing methods. These gaps have made it difficult for multinationals to succeed in developing nations; thus, many companies have resisted investing there. That may be a mistake. If Western companies don't come up with good strategies for engaging with emerging markets, they are unlikely to remain competitive. Many firms choose their markets and strategies for the wrong reasons, relying on everything from senior managers' gut feelings to the behaviors of rivals. Corporations also depend on composite indexes for help making decisions. But these analyses can be misleading; they don't account for vital information about the soft infrastructures in developing nations. A better approach is to understand institutional variations between countries. The best way to do this, the authors have found, is by using the five contexts framework. The five contexts are a country's political and social systems, its degree of openness, its product markets, its labor markets, and its capital markets. By asking a series of questions that pertain to each of the five areas, executives can map the institutional contexts of any nation. When companies match their strategies to each country's contexts, they can take advantage of a location's unique strengths. But first firms should weigh the benefits against the costs. If they find that the risks of adaptation are too great, they should try to change the contexts in which they operate or simply stay away.

When people are your most important asset, some standard performance measures and management practices become misleading or irrelevant. This is a danger for any business whose people costs are greater than its capital costs--that is, businesses in most industries. But it is particularly true for what the authors call "people businesses": operations with high employee costs, low capital investment, and limited spending on activities, such as R&D, that are aimed at generating future revenue. If you run a people business--or a company that includes one or more of them--how do you measure its true performance? Avoid the trap of relying on capital-oriented metrics, such as return on assets and return on equity. They won't help much, as they'll tend to mask weak performance or indicate volatility where it doesn't exist. Replace them with financially rigorous, people-oriented metrics--for example, a reformulation of a conventional calculation of economic profit, such as EVA, so that you gauge people, rather than capital, productivity. After you have assessed the business' true performance, you need to enhance it operationally (be aware that relatively small changes in productivity can have a major impact on shareholder returns); reward it appropriately (push performance-related variable compensation schemes down into the organization); and price it advantageously (because economies of scale and experience tend to be less significant in people businesses, price products or services in ways that capture a share of the additional value created for customers).

When looking for help with a task at work, people turn to those best able to do the job. Right? Wrong. New research shows that work partners tend to be chosen not for ability but for likeability. Drawing from their study encompassing 10,000 work relationships in five organizations, the authors have classified work partners into four archetypes: the competent jerk, who knows a lot but is unpleasant; the lovable fool, who doesn't know much but is a delight; the lovable star, who's both smart and likeable; and the incompetent jerk, who...well, that's self-explanatory. Of course, everybody wants to work with the lovable star, and nobody wants to work with the incompetent jerk. More interesting is that people prefer the lovable fool over the competent jerk. That has big implications for every organization, as both of these types often represent missed opportunities. Lovable fools can bridge gaps between diverse groups that might not otherwise interact. But their networking skills are often developed at the expense of job performance, which can make these employees underappreciated and vulnerable to downsizing. To get the most out of them, managers need to protect them and put them in positions that don't waste their bridge-building talents. As for the competent jerks, many can be socialized through coaching or by being made accountable for bad behavior.

Despite the much-ballyhooed increase in outsourcing, most companies are in do-it-yourself mode for the bulk of their processes, in large part because there's no way to compare outside organizations' capabilities with those of internal functions. Given the lack of comparability, it's almost surprising that anyone outsources today. But it's not surprising that cost is by far companies' primary criterion for evaluating outsourcers or that many companies are dissatisfied with their outsourcing relationships. A new world is coming, says the author, and it will lead to dramatic changes in the shape and structure of corporations. A broad set of process standards will soon make it easy to determine whether a business capability can be improved by outsourcing it. Such standards will also help businesses compare service providers and evaluate the costs vs. the benefits of outsourcing. Eventually these costs and benefits will be so visible to buyers that outsourced processes will become a commodity, and prices will drop significantly. The low costs and low risk of outsourcing will accelerate the flow of jobs offshore, force companies to reassess their strategies, and change the basis of competition. The speed with which some businesses have already adopted process standards suggests that many previously unscrutinized areas are ripe for change. In the field of technology, for instance, the Carnegie Mellon Software Engineering Institute has developed a global standard for software development processes, called the Capability Maturity Model. For companies that don't have process standards in place, it makes sense for them to create standards by working with customers, competitors, software providers, businesses that processes may be outsourced to, and objective researchers and standard-setters. Setting standards is likely to lead to the improvement of both internal and outsourced processes.