Template:M intro design org chart
What you see is all there is.
Der Teufel mag im Detail stecken, aber Gott steckt in den Lücken.
“The Devil may be in the detail, but God is in the gaps.”
Org chart
/ɔːg ʧɑːt/ (n.)
A formal portrait. A still life. A glib schematic that tells you everything you don’t need to know about an organisation, but which it treats as its most utmost secret.
Form, not substance
Desire lines
/dɪˈzaɪə laɪnz/ (n.)
The paths we make when our built environment lets us down.[1] Informal pathways across open ground that emerge over time as individuals make their own judgment about what are the most convenient routes, ignoring central planning and designed pathways.
The org chart is a formal diagram that places everyone in a logical, hierarchical relation to everyone else, reporting lines radiating out and down from the the splayed fingers of the chief executive officer. It is a centrally-sanctioned, aspirational, blueprint: to the executive suite what the “built environment” is to the town planner: a plausible account of how the organisation is meant to work.
But, being a a map and not the territory, and tells you as much about what the organisation does as an ordinance survey map tells you what the weather will be like or what’s on at the cinema. It contains no desire lines: the communication channels the firm’s personnel willingly open because they want to, or need to, to get anything done.
(Don’t underestimate the importance of the “want” in that calculus, by the way: there is always a choice as to whom you call to get a given job done. All other things being equal, we choose the dude over the bore. It is reflexive: over time dudes field more calls get more experience build better networks and give better outcomes: “want” converges with “need”. Lesson: if you want to get ahead, don’t be a dork.)
In any case, these vital informal communication channels rarely run along the formal lines of the org chart. Why would they?
What you see is all there is
Yet management is obliged to focus on this formal, static structure, made flesh in reporting lines, because that is all it sees.
Consider poor old Dan Grade, an ED in the risk team. The CEO can’t see what everyone knows: that Dan is the go-to guy for dumb questions, sensible takes and tricky credit escalations. He’s also an affable chap: he has been in the organisation twenty-five years, runs a tight ship, holds a trove of institutional knowledge and personal capital which he applies deftly to managing risk, fixing flare-ups, tamping down client situations, patiently educating generations of grads, inside his department and out, about the tenets of risk management, all the while and making his really rather useless boss look good. Dan does all this so well that he rarely comes to the attention of anyone important, and from 30,000 feet he’s just a node in the thickets of branches in the org chart. Only his reporting line and salary is “legible” from the executive suite. They can count and optimise the spans and layers, of which he is part, and attribute to them the profits and losses of the organisation even if, in practice, they don’t map awfully well, but they have no clue as to what he does to move the organisation on.
Instead, the reporting lines which management sees are the most sclerotic, rusty and resented communication channels in the organisation. They are the “keep off the grass” signs; vain attempts to coerce inferior modes of communication over better ones, for if they really were the best lines of communication, no-one would need to coerce them: they would just happen, the same way lateral communications naturally flow into Dan.
Since they don’t, management exhorts line managers to meet weekly with their directs, populating standing agendas to furnish management information and statistics fit for injection into opco decks and RAG dashboards of handsome looking, but — given the circumstances of its generation — basically useless data.
It is all very performative. Because they wouldn’t do it otherwise, and no-one would miss it.
Reaction and advancement
Communications along the formal chain of command do not advance the commercial imperative, but react to it. They are validations of things the subject matter expert already knows: reluctant, strained, for-the-sake-of-it FYIs; updates and postings serving only to spare the manager’s blushes should she be blind-sided by someone else. Vertical communications fulfil formal, not substantive, requirements for order.
The firm’s real business is done only when its gears are engaged, and that means its on-the-ground personnel communicate with those who are outside their hierarchy. The business unit is a gear: what matters is what happens when it is engaged.
The map and the territory
Reporting lines mistake the map for the territory. They are a bad static map of the firm, configured in the abstract, when it is at rest. That is, before it does anything. This is how the machine works when it is idling.
Org charts: the plan you have before you get punched in the mouth.
But the organisation’s resting state overlooks its real arterial network: lateral interactions that must cross whatever boundaries management can dream up, or that leave the firm altogether: these are the communications that employees must make: between internal specialists in different departments; with the firm’s clients and external suppliers — they make commerce happen and move the organisation along. It is in these interactions that things happen: it is here that tensions manifest themselves, problems emerge and opportunities arise, and here that these things are resolved. These are not the drill, but the hole in the wall.
These are informal interactions. They are not well-documented, nor from above, well-understood. They are hard to see. They are illegible.
Yet, everyone who has worked in a large organisation knows that there are a small number of key people, usually not occupying formally significant roles — they are too busy getting things done for that — who keep the whole place running. These “super-nodes” know histories, have networks, intuitively understand how the organisation really works, what you have to do and who you have to speak to to get things done. These are the ad hoc mechanics who keep the the superstructure on the road.
Often management won’t have much idea who these “super-nodes” are, precisely because they do not derive their significance from their formal status, but from their informal function. They earn this reputation daily, interaction by interaction.
A bottom-up map of functional interactions would disregard the artificial cascade of formal authority in favour of informal credibility. It would reveal the organisation as a point-to-point multi-nodal network, far richer than the flimsy frame indicated by the org chart. With modern data analytics, it would not even be hard to do: Log the firm’s communication records for data to see where those communications go: who chats with whom? who calls whom? Who emails whom? What is the informal structure of the firm? Who are the major nodes?
Modernism vs. agilism
The modernist sees the firm as a unitary machine that must be centrally managed and controlled from the top: the more structure the better.
The “agilist” sees it as an ecosystem, and advocates removing layers, disassembling silos and decluttering the structure. Don’t rely on those senior managers: get rid of them.
The agile theory is that risks and opportunities arise unexpectedly, in times and at places you can’t anticipate. The optimal organising principle therefore is: give talented people flexibility and discretion to react as they see fit. Have the best people, with the best equipment, in the best place to react skilfully. Those people aren’t middle managers, the optimal equipment isn’t necessarily the one that leaves the best audit trail, and that place is not the board room, nor the steering committee or the operating committee.
It is out there in the jungle. Management should seek the fewest number of formal impediments to the creative behaviour of those people.
So to understand a business one needs not understand its formal structure, but its informal structure: not the roles but the people who fill them: who are the key people whom others go to to help get things done; to break through logjams, to ensure the management is on side?
These lines will not show up in any org chart.
- ↑ Nicely put by Steve Bates in “Lines of Desire”, Doncopolitan, July 2014