Number of words – 363

There is a wonderful story of a group of American car executives who went to Japan to see a Japanese assembly line. At the end of the line, the doors were put on the hinges, the same as in America. But something was missing. In the United States, a line worker would take a rubber mallet and tap the edges of the door to ensure that it fits in perfectly. In Japan, that job didn’t seem to exist. Confused, an American auto executive asked at what point they make sure that the door fits perfectly? The Japanese guide looked at them and smiled sheepishly. “We make sure it fits when we design it.” In the Japanese autoplant, they examine the problem and accumulate data to figure out the best solutions; they engineer the outcome they wanted from the beginning. If they didn’t achieve the desired outcome, they understand it was because of a decision they made at the start of the process.

At the end of the day, the doors on the American made and Japanese made cars appeared to fit when each rolled off the Assembly line. Except, the Japanese didn’t need to employ someone to hammer the doors, did not need to buy any mallets. All this for no other reason then the they ensured that the pieces fit from the start.

What the American automakers did with their rubber mallets is a metaphor for how so many people and organisations work. When faced with the result that doesn’t go according to a plan, a series of perfectly effective short-term tactics are used until the desired outcome is achieved. But how structurally sound are these solutions? So many organisations function in a world of tangible goals and the mallets to achieve them. The ones that achieve more, the ones that get more out of fewer people and fewer resources, the ones with an outsized amount of influence, however, build products and companies and even recruit people that all fit based on the original intention. Even though the outcomes may look the same, great leaders understand the value in the things we cannot see.

Excerpted from ‘Start with Why’ by Simon Sinek