The funny thing about barriers or rope ladders in this case, in just a few years the boys will have a complete 180 degree turn concerning the opposite sex. No longer will they be building barriers but trying to build relationships. Do we have any rope ladders here at work? What kinds of barriers have we built to ensure people stay away? Clearly, there are positional barriers. For example, I am not allowed to communicate with certain people above a certain level. This may make sense in my case but that's whole another story. We don't like this group because they don't approve our choice of technology or process. So, we build barriers of communication and process control in order to keep them out. This group is bad for no other reason than someone told us they are. Would it be any different if you were in the "bad" group? My dad said there are two things you can do to others. You can either build them up or tear them down. The same is true for the barriers we create.

As funny as tree houses, little boys and imaginary girls can be, not much has changed over the years. We still create barriers but unfortunately, there won't be some biological event that takes place to change our perspective of the other side.

1. Too Much Cost, Not Enough Value


2. Too Much Speculation, Not Enough Investment


3. Too Much Complexity, Not Enough Simplicity


4. Too Much Business Conduct, Not Enough Professional Conduct


5. Too Much Salesmanship, Not Enough Stewardship


6. Too Much Management, Not Enough Leadership


7. Too Much Focus on Things, Not Enough Focus on Commitment


8. Too Many Twenty-First Century Values, Not Enough Eighteenth Century Values


9. Too Much Success, Not Enough Character

William "Bill" Crawford certainly was an unimpressive figure, one you could easily overlook during a hectic day at the U.S. Air Force Academy. Mr. Crawford, as most of us referred to him back in the late 1970s, was our squadron janitor. While we cadets busied ourselves preparing for academic exams, athletic events, Saturday morning parades and room inspections, or never-ending leadership classes, Bill quietly moved about the squadron mopping and buffing floors, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, or just tidying up the mess 100 college-age kids can leave in a dormitory. Sadly, and for many years, few of us gave him much notice, rendering little more than a passing nod or throwing a curt, "G'morning!" in his direction as we hurried off to our daily duties.

Why? Perhaps it was because of the way he did his job-he always kept the squadron area spotlessly clean, even the toilets and showers gleamed. Frankly, he did his job so well, none of us had to notice or get involved. After all, cleaning toilets was his job, not ours. Maybe it was is physical appearance that made him disappear into the background. Bill didn't move very quickly and, in fact, you could say he even shuffled a bit, as if he suffered from some sort of injury. His gray hair and wrinkled face made him appear ancient to a group of young cadets. And his crooked smile, well, it looked a little funny. Face it, Bill was an old man working in a young person's world. What did he have t o offer us on a personal level?

Finally, maybe it was Mr. Crawford's personality that rendered him almost invisible to the young people around him. Bill was shy, almost painfully so. He seldom spoke to a cadet unless they addressed him first, and that didn't happen very often. Our janitor always buried himself in his work, moving about with stooped shoulders, a quiet gait, and an averted gaze. If he noticed the hustle and bustle of cadet life around him, it was hard to tell. So, for whatever reason, Bill blended into the woodwork and became just another fixture around the squadron. The Academy, one of our nation's premier leadership laboratories, kept us busy from dawn till dusk. And Mr. Crawford...well, he was just a janitor.

That changed one fall Saturday afternoon in 1976. I was reading a book about World War II and the tough Allied ground campaign in Italy, when I stumbled across an incredible story. On September 13, 1943, a Private William Crawford from Colorado, assigned to the 36th Infantry Division, had been involved in some bloody fighting on Hill 424 near Altavilla, Italy. The words on the page leapt out at me: "in the face of intense and overwhelming hostile fire ... with no regard for personal safety ... on his own initiative, Private Crawford single-handedly attacked fortified enemy positions." It continued, "for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, the President of the United States ..."

"Holy cow," I said to my roommate, "you're not going to believe this, but I think our janitor is a Medal of Honor winner." We all knew Mr. Crawford was a WWII Army vet, but that didn't keep my friend from looking at me as if I was some sort of alien being. Nonetheless, we couldn't wait to ask Bill about the story on Monday. We met Mr. Crawford bright and early Monday and showed him the page in question from the book, anticipation and doubt in our faces. He starred at it for a few silent moments and then quietly uttered something like, "Yep, that's me."

Mouths agape, my roommate and I looked at one another, then at the book, and quickly back at our janitor. Almost at once we both stuttered, "Why didn't you ever tell us about it?" He slowly replied after some thought, "That was one day in my life and it happened a long time ago." I guess we were all at a loss for words after that. We had to hurry off to class and Bill, well, he had chores to attend to. However, after that brief exchange, things were never again the same around our squadron. Word spread like wildfire among the cadets that we had a hero in our midst-Mr. Crawford, our janitor, had won the Medal! Cadets who had once passed by Bill with hardly a glance, now greeted him with a smile and a respectful, "Good morning, Mr. Crawford." Those who had before left a mess for the "janitor" to clean up started taking it upon themselves to put things in order. Most cadets routinely stopped to talk to Bill throughout the day and we even began inviting him to our formal squadron functions. He'd show up dressed in a conservative dark suit and quietly talk to those who approached him, the only sign of his heroics being a simple blue, starspangled lapel pin.

Almost overnight, Bill went from being a simple fixture in our squadron to one of our teammates. Mr. Crawford changed too, but you had to look closely to notice the difference. After that fall day in 1976, he seemed to move with more purpose, his shoulders didn't seem to be as stooped, he met our greetings with a direct gaze and a stronger "good morning" in return, and he flashed his crooked smile more often. The squadron gleamed as always, but everyone now seemed to notice it more. Bill even got to know most of us by our first names, something that didn't happen often at the Academy. While no one ever formally acknowledged the change, I think we became Bill's cadets and his squadron.

As often happens in life, events sweep us away from those in our past. The last time I saw Bill was on graduation day in June 1977. As I walked out of the squadron for the last time, he shook my hand and simply said, "Good luck, young man." With that, I embarked on a career that has been truly lucky and blessed. Mr. Crawford continued to work at the Academy and eventually retired in his native Colorado where he resides today, one of four Medal of Honor winners living in a small town. A wise person once said, "It's not life that's important, but those you meet along the way that make the difference." Bill was one who made a difference for me. While I haven't seen Mr. Crawford in over twenty years, he'd probably be surprised to know I think of him often. Bill Crawford, our janitor, taught me many valuable, unforgettable leadership lessons. Here are ten I'd like to share with you.

1. Be Cautious of Labels. Labels you place on people may define your relationship to them and bound their potential. Sadly, and for a long time, we labeled Bill as just a janitor, but he was so much more. Therefore, be cautious of a leader who callously says, "Hey, he's just an Airman." Likewise, don't tolerate the O-1, who says, "I can't do that, I'm just a lieutenant."
2. Everyone Deserves Respect. Because we hung the "janitor" label on Mr. Crawford, we often wrongly treated him with less respect than others around us. He deserved much more, and not just because he was a Medal of Honor winner. Bill deserved respect because he was a janitor, walked among us, and was a part of our team.
3. Courtesy Makes a Difference. Be courteous to all around you, regardless of rank or position. Military customs, as well as common courtesies, help bond a team. When our daily words to Mr. Crawford turned from perfunctory "hellos" to heartfelt greetings, his demeanor and personality outwardly changed. It made a difference for all of us.
4. Take Time to Know Your People. Life in the military is hectic, but that's no excuse for not knowing the people you work for and with. For years a hero walked among us at the Academy and we never knew it. Who are the heroes that walk in your midst?
5. Anyone Can Be a Hero. Mr. Crawford certainly didn't fit anyone's standard definition of a hero. Moreover, he was just a private on the day he won his Medal. Don't sell your people short, for any one of them may be the hero who rises to the occasion when duty calls. On the other hand, it's easy to turn to your proven performers when the chips are down, but don't ignore the rest of the team. Today's rookie could and should be tomorrow's superstar.
6. Leaders Should Be Humble. Most modern day heroes and some leaders are anything but humble, especially if you calibrate your "hero meter" on today's athletic fields. End zone celebrations and self-aggrandizement are what we've come to expect from sports greats. Not Mr. Crawford-he was too busy working to celebrate his past heroics. Leaders would be well-served to do the same.
7. Life Won't Always Hand You What You Think You Deserve. We in the military work hard and, dang it, we deserve recognition, right? However, sometimes you just have to persevere, even when accolades don't come your way. Perhaps you weren't nominated for junior officer or airman of the quarter as you thought you should - don't let that stop you.
8. Don't pursue glory; pursue excellence. Private Bill Crawford didn't pursue glory; he did his duty and then swept floors for a living. No job is beneath a Leader. If Bill Crawford, a Medal of Honor winner, could clean latrines and smile, is there a job beneath your dignity? Think about it.
9. Pursue Excellence. No matter what task life hands you, do it well. Dr. Martin Luther King said, "If life makes you a street sweeper, be the best street sweeper you can be." Mr. Crawford modeled that philosophy and helped make our dormitory area a home.
10. Life is a Leadership Laboratory. All too often we look to some school or PME class to teach us about leadership when, in fact, life is a leadership laboratory.
Those you meet everyday will teach you enduring lessons if you just take time to stop, look and listen. I spent four years at the Air Force Academy, took dozens of classes, read hundreds of books, and met thousands of great people. I gleaned leadership skills from all of them, but one of the people I remember most is Mr. Bill Crawford and the lessons he unknowingly taught. Don't miss your opportunity to learn.

Bill Crawford was a janitor. However, he was also a teacher, friend, role model and one great American hero. Thanks, Mr. Crawford, for some valuable leadership lessons.

We believe that if we are Cooperating with other groups or individuals then by definition we must be collaborating. But cooperation relies on processes and procedures to define how work gets done. The more we constrain or control the environment the more we can cooperate but this lowers the possibility that we will see real collaboration. Take for example when my PC was stolen. I didn't collaborate with the police to locate the PC but I did cooperate with them in giving descriptions, serial numbers, and other critical information.

Communication is another thing that we are very good at and often gets confused with collaboration. We have email, newsletters, blogs, web sites and about million other methods to communicate across the organization barriers but again, communication isn't really collaborating. Telling other groups what you are doing, going to do or planning to do is simply a form of messaging that has little to do with truly collaborating.

Finally, we look toward this idea of Coordination with others as the ideal collaboration scenario. Coordination is the process by which we take different tasks and align them so that a common objective can occur. Our project management teams thrive in environments where the coordination of activities is required. But is this really collaborating?

Clearly individually, these activities don't equal true collaboration but does the sum of the parts add up to collaboration? The answer is simply no. You can take a banana, an apple, and some grapes to make fruit salad but you can't create a watermelon from them. So what then is collaborating if it's not communication, coordinating, and cooperating? Well, it might be easier to provide an example versus giving some formal definition. Boeing is a company that been around for about as long as we have or so it seems. They too had perfected the art of the three C's but collaboration was elusive. That all changed with the new Dreamliner. As an example, before the process for airplane design was done in house, then the engineering drawings were then put out for bid. Clearly, for this process to work you needed communication, coordination, and cooperation between the company and vendors. For the Dreamliner they changed things but picking the best of breed vendor and bringing them in house to collaborate on the design. More than a physical move and process change, the firm's information systems were connected as well as the reporting structure. New design ideas we not only pulled from customers directly but open information markets as well. The Boeing engineers said it best; they didn't know what it really meant to collaborate until they started doing it. I think we find ourselves in this same predicament. That is we are going to continue to claim we are collaborating until we actually do it. Then, looking back, we will see what lousy collaborators we actually were.

First thing is obvious is to look for a problem that needs a solution. What annoys you or drives you crazy? There is something you know you can do but just can't? Wouldn't it be great to be able to charge your iphone while backpacking in the wild? Ok, this wouldn't have occurred to me but someone thought an isothermal boot that uses body heat to recharge the iphone was a good idea. They saw a problem and solved it.

Another idea is to look for related or correlated ideas. In 1900, the inventor of the vacuum cleaner observed a dust collection system which didn't actually collect dust but blew it away. What if I reverse the motor and pull the dust inward? Thus, the first vacuum was patented. This is one of the best idea creation techniques around. Observing other areas or disciplines helps you change your perspective. This is why I recommend folks create a CV or Visual Resume because it changes your perspective over the traditional resume.

Hang out with a different crowd or read something that you wouldn't normally read. We all get in ruts or patterns of behavior. Take someone you wouldn't normally hang out with at lunch and just listen to their problems or ideas. Do you normally read action or romance novels? Pick up a business book; read Funky Business or Re-Imagine which are great alternative views on business. What magazines do you read? Have you ever flipped through a landscaping magazine? Why not?.

Expose yourself to greatness. Find those people, things, inventions or locations that are simply the best in the world. Why are they the best, what made them different or first to move in a direction not obvious to others. Several years ago, we took a trip to France and all I wanted to see was the Mona Lisa. I don't know why this is a great painting or at least the most famous but I wanted to see it. I wanted to be in the presence of greatness and see what it might inspire.

Change your perspective. Do you remember as a child when you were forced to sit in the back seat? What did you observe? Your perspective was all about where you had been; you observed the world from the rear window. As an adult, we focus our attention to where we are going and what's coming up. When was the last time you sat in the back seat and spent hours looking out the rear window? Maybe you should spend time with the customer observing where they are struggling. We did this with Sharepoint and noticed that even the smartest struggled on the potential of a collaboration environment. Hence our old team was created to facilitate the growth and expansion of the product.

Get a notebook. Darn, I just had a great idea but I can't remember what it is now. How many times have you had that great idea but lost as soon as your son ran into the room asking you to read Calvin and Hobbes? Many idea folks actually have a notebook by the bed in case they wake up from a dream and need to jot down some ideas.

I am sure there are other ideas that might help you generate new ideas but the most important thing is to act on them.

Should the violins be distributed based on positional power? The chairman and his direct reports get the Stradivarius while you and I get a box with strings attached? This seems fair based on our classic organizational chart mindset in which all knowledge and value begins at the top of the pyramid.

Maybe the distribution should be based on a lottery system or on a first come first serve basis. We could create an online form and the first people that sign up get the high dollar violins. Of course, this might give the east coast an unfair advantage depending on when the email goes out.

Maybe the violins could be a reward of some kind to recognize those high performers within the enterprise. Considering that most of us live on Lake Wobegon when it comes to high performance, we might not have enough to go around. We all understand that 50% of the employees are by definition below average but 95% of us think it's the other person that is the "B" player.

How about we present the violins to those that can actually play? A violin was designed for the creation of great music thus those folks that have played for 30 years should be the ones that get the Stradivarius. Those that can perform on stage in front of thousands should get the very best equipment we have to offer. On the other hand, if we gave the worst players the best violins then we would all be normalized to a mediocre performance.

Here is another great idea. What if we didn't distribute the violins at all? Instead, we put them in a storage room and claimed a million dollars in cost savings by not having the shipping costs, maintenance costs, or doing a lease roll on violins. The employee lost productivity due to listening to wonderful music while at work would be eliminated. We could still claim the asset on the books without actually leveraging it for any value creation.

So, which is it? How would you distribute the violins? This is a silly question isn't it? You can't believe you actually read the entire blog post but what if...What if we exchanged our violins for business travel, education credits, equipment, promotions, or growth opportunities within the company? Does this change your answer? If so, why?

"I've never considered myself a thief"
"But Todd wouldn't miss just one little piece"
"Especially if I strung it out over several years"
"I'd get one piece at a time and it wouldn't cost me a dime"

Money isn't the only thing that goes missing. One of our industry awards was removed which makes no sense in that it was just a piece of crystal but I guess it will look better on some dining room table versus my 8x8 cube cell. Ironically, I am more interested in what they don't take, like books or magazines. I usually leave my storage panel open and there are 25 business books ready for the five finger discount. I think that if this person did read these books and absorbed just 10%, they would be able to double or triple their current earnings but that would require more effort and commitment. What does this have to do with Enterprise 2.0? I think is has an enormous impact based on the short term thinking, planning, and even execution we see on a daily basis.

To reiterate the point, I was listening to the radio several months ago and a question was asked: what is the difference between the poor, the middle class, and the rich. The answer was surprisingly simple: time. The poor think in terms of tomorrow and the majority of their decisions are based on that time horizon (i.e. what will I eat tomorrow). The middle class think in terms of month to month survival such as a house payment or credit card bill that's due. The rich think in terms of years and even decades depending on the level of success they have achieved. In many ways, each level perceives they are locked in without any path to the next level up because they can't change their boxed in view.

What time horizon does your organization take when planning the future? Are we so caught up in the fire fights of tomorrow that we miss out on the long term success? Are we so focused on our day by day survival that we fail to invest in our own education and experiences? There is some truth in that I don't see as much strategic planning and extended architecture being developed within the IT world. Our employment reviews have long be reduced to what have you done for me lately. Stock market returns are focused on the next quarter earnings versus any essence of long term value creation.

Maybe time is like gravity in that without effort, you will be pulled toward the short term mindset. Over years of neglect, we simply don't know how to look at anything other than tomorrow. That being said, I wonder what's for dinner tonight.