| The
vice-president had the decision-making skills of a squirrel
crossing the road in traffic. Should the department have a
sales meeting this quarter or not? Sh ould
the meeting, if one were to be held, be held off site? And
if it were to be off site, should it be in the Sheraton or
the Regency? And was a keynote speech called for, and if so,
who would give it? Oh, excruciating were the decisions demanded
of the vice-president
The
first decision—should there be a sales meeting or not—called
for a simple yes/no answer, but Marion VP, agonized over the
choice, managed to find a third alternative. Simply postpone
the decision. Do nothing.
Eventually
this decision amounted to a "no" vote but before
it got to "no", things began to happen. Morale plunged,
for example, because many in the department who keenly believed
in the importance of a sales meeting began to feel frustrated,
then fouled, when meeting plans failed to gel.
There
was muttering at the coffee station. Mutiny at the fax machine.
Faith in Marion VP's leadership eroded a few more degrees.
The
failure to make a decision is, in itself, a decision. A simple
yes/no choice almost always has a silent third partner—the
option to do nothing. And the consequences of this third choice
are not always understood or appreciated. It can be "the
kiss of death."
Each
of us makes hundreds of decisions each day, most of them quite
small and insignificant. But we also have the opportunities
to make hundreds of decisions by default—that is, to
put off making a responsible choice. It may be helpful for
those of us with the decision making skills of a squirrel
to understand that there is going to be a result no matter
which choice we make—including the choice not to decide.
And it might be helpful to run a catastrophe report as part
of the decision making process: "If I don't
make a decision, what is likely to happen?" The results
that one contemplates could be the perfect spur that makes
you choose whether to say yes or no. |