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Policy is organizational scar tissue<ref>{{br|Rework}}</ref>. It's the sheep they’ll hang you for. It is the dominant ideology of modern management theory. Policy, and process, is seen as practically inviolate, or immovable.
Policy is organizational scar tissue<ref>{{br|Rework}}</ref>. It's the sheep they’ll hang you for. It is the dominant ideology of modern management theory. Policy, and process, is seen as practically inviolate, or immovable.


Management orthodoxy is predicated on policy and process being the the fundamental layer of organisational competence. So, for example, a root cause analysis using the 5 why's method is intended to reveal as the root cause the policy which had not been complied with.
Management orthodoxy is predicated on policy and process being the the fundamental layer of organisational competence. So, for example, a [[root cause analysis]] using the 5 why's method is intended to reveal as the root cause the policy which had not been complied with.


Policy is the mountain; the workers are Mohammed. So calling out substandard performance in the workforce is orthodox business management practice. But calling out substandard process or, heaven forfend, [[policy]], is a kind of sedition.  
Policy is the mountain; the workers are Mohammed. So calling out substandard performance in the workforce is orthodox business management practice. But calling out substandard process or, heaven forfend, [[policy]], is a kind of sedition.  


But policy is a proxy. It is a second order derivative of the intractably complex life of a modern organisation. Compliance with policy is the quantifiable thing that an [[internal audit]] department can glom onto. It requires no qualitative assessment, no subject matter expertise and no judgement. "It says here you must do this. Did you do this?"
But policy is a [[proxy]]. It is a second-order derivative of the intractably complex life of a modern organisation. Compliance with policy is a quantifiable thing that [[internal audit]] can glom onto. It requires no qualitative assessment, no [[subject matter expert]]ise and no judgement. There is a simple enquiry with a simple answer.  


All this assumes that the commercial landscape your policy is meant to cover is fully mapped. It is arable land; a fully scoped production line where all inputs, all outputs, and all contingencies are mapped. No frontiers, no [[known unknowns]] are in sight.  
“It says here you must do this. Did you do this?”


Here a policy is prudent, but - in these artificially intelligent times - it too can be coded and automated. there is little here for internal audit to see, largely because processes of this kind are by their nature trivial and of limited value. Where there is no risk, there is no reward.
“No, but does it matter?” is no defence.


And therein lies the rub. Any fully automated, algorithmic process within an organisation is necessarily one of limited risk and limited value.  
Ignoring policy threatens an organisation’s integrity. It subverts its governance. To break its rules. It invites censure by [[internal audit]]. A thoughtful employee faced with a situation to which a policy applies will not be prepared to override it.  


Where do significant risks exist? At the frontiers. in the wild west. Beyond the pale. Beyond the comfort of a fully worked.out algorithm.  Where "here be dragons". Where there is maximum opportunity to add value. In a commercial context, to make or lose money. In a a government context 2 to save lives. And where there be dragons, a policy can be your worst enemy.
“No-one got fired for complying with policy”: that’s a truism. “No-one died because someone complied with policy” — maybe that’s ''not'' such a truism.


To override a policy is to threaten the integrity of the organisation. To subvert its governance. It isto break a rule. In the ordinary course, failure to follow a policy will be immediately censored by the bureaucrats from internal audit, and an appeal to the substance of the matter will likely fall on deaf ears. Therefore, any employee faced with a situation to which a policy applies is highly unlikely to be prepared to override it.
All this assumes that the commercial landscape your policy is meant to cover is a fully-scoped production line where all inputs, all outputs and all contingencies are mapped. No frontiers, no [[known unknowns]] are in sight.  


We are all familiar with the ghastly tale of Grenfell Tower and the now infamous "stay put policy".
Here a policy is prudent, but — in these [[Artificial intelligence|artificially intelligent]] times — policy compliance, too, ought to be coded and automated. There is little for [[internal audit]] to see: these processes, by nature, present trivial risks and add limited value.


The stay put policy had been established many years previously situations of communal living, and was predicated on certain assumptions about the construction of the building and the nature of the risk. stay put policy was designed to save lives of residents in a tower block who were notionally unaffected by the immediate fire. Therefore, overriding that policy necessarily involved taking some risk. That is why the policy was their current precisely to avoid taking that risk.
And therein lies the rub: any fully-scoped process, where we know every possible input, output, and contingency, is ''necessarily'' one of limited risk and limited value. Easy wins for [[internal audit]], but nothing much at stake.


it is easy to be wise with hindsight, but put yourself in the position of the fire personnel on the ground at Grenfell as the situation was unfolding. It unfolded very very quickly. at the time, no one knew what the outcome would be. No one knew that 70 people would die. What the personnel did know is that there was a stay put policy in force.
Where are the big risks? With the big rewards, at the frontiers. In the wild west. Over the horizon, where “[[here be dragons]]”. Where there are [[known unknowns]] and [[unknown unknowns|''unknown'' unknowns]]. Where, by definition, we are beyond the comforting porch-light of a fully worked-out production line.  Where there is maximum opportunity to add value: in a commercial context, to make, or lose, money. In a social one, to improve, or ruin, lives.  


we also cannot know what would have happened had the same foot policy been overridden. Certainly the personnel on the ground at the time could not know that. It seems likely that it would have saved lives. But had it not: what then would the culpability have been of the the personnel making the decision to deviate from a policy?
Hypothesis: where t[[here be dragons]], a policy is your worst enemy.
 
We are all familiar with the ghastly tale of Grenfell Tower and the now infamous "stay put policy".
 
The British Standard Code of Practice  of 1962 introduced the first national standard requiring tall residential blocks to provide one hour’s fire resistance so firefighters could fight flames inside the building. Each flat would act as an individual “compartment” containing any fire for at least an hour. This would enable firefighters to put out one fire in one flat rather than face a whole building ablaze.To work, the building must be able to withstand the spread of flames beyond compartments, and there must be clear access so affected residents can escape and firefighters can get in quickly. Part of ensuring that clear access involved discouraging ''un''affected residents to evacuate, exposing them to risk of smoke, clogging up the firefighters’ access or impeding affected residents’ exit. Opening doors of other flats was expected to undermine the “compartmentalisation”. In 57,000 high-rise fires between 2010 and 2017 only 216 (0.4%) required more than five residents to evacuate. It was a policy that worked in tens of thousands of fires over sixty years with minimal casualties. The Grenfell report describes the policy — unsurprisingly — as an “article of faith” within the London Fire Brigade “so powerful that to depart from it was to all intents and purposes unthinkable”.
 
Put yourself in the position of the fire service personnel on the ground at Grenfell as the situation was unfolding. There is total confusion. You do not know anything for sure. The fire is not behaving as it should do. There are conflicting reports. Information and communication lines are scrambled. The one thing you do know is that there is a stay-put policy is in place, it generally works — it is an article of faith, after all — ''and you ignore it at your own peril''. When you are in a crisis situation with all kinds of unknowns unfolding around you, what you do not do is question the things you ''do'' know. Not only could they not know what would happen if they complied with the advice; they could not know what would happen if they had ''not'' complied with that advice.
 
The point here is not to defend the fire service, but identify what is happening. The fire service is facing a new, unexpected situation. They are unexpectedly at a frontier, whereas they expected to be on a production line. They are armed with a policy designed for the production line.





Revision as of 17:57, 31 October 2019

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“Many policies are organizational scar tissue — codified overreactions to situations that are unlikely to happen again”.
- Jason Fried

Policy is organizational scar tissue[1]. It's the sheep they’ll hang you for. It is the dominant ideology of modern management theory. Policy, and process, is seen as practically inviolate, or immovable.

Management orthodoxy is predicated on policy and process being the the fundamental layer of organisational competence. So, for example, a root cause analysis using the 5 why's method is intended to reveal as the root cause the policy which had not been complied with.

Policy is the mountain; the workers are Mohammed. So calling out substandard performance in the workforce is orthodox business management practice. But calling out substandard process or, heaven forfend, policy, is a kind of sedition.

But policy is a proxy. It is a second-order derivative of the intractably complex life of a modern organisation. Compliance with policy is a quantifiable thing that internal audit can glom onto. It requires no qualitative assessment, no subject matter expertise and no judgement. There is a simple enquiry with a simple answer.

“It says here you must do this. Did you do this?”

“No, but does it matter?” is no defence.

Ignoring policy threatens an organisation’s integrity. It subverts its governance. To break its rules. It invites censure by internal audit. A thoughtful employee faced with a situation to which a policy applies will not be prepared to override it.

“No-one got fired for complying with policy”: that’s a truism. “No-one died because someone complied with policy” — maybe that’s not such a truism.

All this assumes that the commercial landscape your policy is meant to cover is a fully-scoped production line where all inputs, all outputs and all contingencies are mapped. No frontiers, no known unknowns are in sight.

Here a policy is prudent, but — in these artificially intelligent times — policy compliance, too, ought to be coded and automated. There is little for internal audit to see: these processes, by nature, present trivial risks and add limited value.

And therein lies the rub: any fully-scoped process, where we know every possible input, output, and contingency, is necessarily one of limited risk and limited value. Easy wins for internal audit, but nothing much at stake.

Where are the big risks? With the big rewards, at the frontiers. In the wild west. Over the horizon, where “here be dragons”. Where there are known unknowns and unknown unknowns. Where, by definition, we are beyond the comforting porch-light of a fully worked-out production line. Where there is maximum opportunity to add value: in a commercial context, to make, or lose, money. In a social one, to improve, or ruin, lives.

Hypothesis: where there be dragons, a policy is your worst enemy.

We are all familiar with the ghastly tale of Grenfell Tower and the now infamous "stay put policy".

The British Standard Code of Practice of 1962 introduced the first national standard requiring tall residential blocks to provide one hour’s fire resistance so firefighters could fight flames inside the building. Each flat would act as an individual “compartment” containing any fire for at least an hour. This would enable firefighters to put out one fire in one flat rather than face a whole building ablaze.To work, the building must be able to withstand the spread of flames beyond compartments, and there must be clear access so affected residents can escape and firefighters can get in quickly. Part of ensuring that clear access involved discouraging unaffected residents to evacuate, exposing them to risk of smoke, clogging up the firefighters’ access or impeding affected residents’ exit. Opening doors of other flats was expected to undermine the “compartmentalisation”. In 57,000 high-rise fires between 2010 and 2017 only 216 (0.4%) required more than five residents to evacuate. It was a policy that worked in tens of thousands of fires over sixty years with minimal casualties. The Grenfell report describes the policy — unsurprisingly — as an “article of faith” within the London Fire Brigade “so powerful that to depart from it was to all intents and purposes unthinkable”.

Put yourself in the position of the fire service personnel on the ground at Grenfell as the situation was unfolding. There is total confusion. You do not know anything for sure. The fire is not behaving as it should do. There are conflicting reports. Information and communication lines are scrambled. The one thing you do know is that there is a stay-put policy is in place, it generally works — it is an article of faith, after all — and you ignore it at your own peril. When you are in a crisis situation with all kinds of unknowns unfolding around you, what you do not do is question the things you do know. Not only could they not know what would happen if they complied with the advice; they could not know what would happen if they had not complied with that advice.

The point here is not to defend the fire service, but identify what is happening. The fire service is facing a new, unexpected situation. They are unexpectedly at a frontier, whereas they expected to be on a production line. They are armed with a policy designed for the production line.

See also

References