Page 1 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

RULE #1

Do not play with fire.

MIHIR

In my experience, it is always difficult to come to terms with the dire reality of one’s situation. To acknowledge the unsavory, accept the unpalatable, and do it with grace. Some weep and wail. Others panic and throw in the towel. The only way out, however, is to swallow that bitter pill and lunge forward. Rip off that Band-Aid in one swift motion.

That’s where I come in. Ripping off Band-Aids is my specialty.

I sat at the head of the table in the boardroom, facing the Dallas skyline. I didn’t care that it wasn’t my boardroom—it never was. But when I was in a boardroom, any boardroom, I sat at the head of the table.

“These are my recommendations,” I’d said when we started the meeting over an hour ago, my eyes scanning the sea of suits before me. “I’m sure you’ve had a chance to review them.”

“We have, Mr. Seth,” the Chairman of the Board had said before anyone else had a chance to nod. I had turned my eyes to him and acknowledged him with a slight nod. He was an alpha, like me.

Right now, though, he looked at me with displeasure, irked that despite his resistance to my guidelines, it was their only way out of this swamp of debt pulling them down.

“Gutting entire departments?” he asked in a cool voice, but I spotted the anxiety beneath those calm waters. “Is that the best way to proceed?”

“It’s your only way,” I responded directly to him. “If you want to stay afloat and grow in the direction you want, that’s what I would do.”

This wasn’t a mid-sized enterprise, the kind that usually consulted my company for debt management and restructuring. This was a monster that had grown too big before it realized its strength or its potential for growth, a monster that would do wonders if tamed and trained to perform the specific task that was its métier. My job was to show this monster its reflection and help it hone its superpower.

“Outsourcing the software and support?” the Chairman asked, his eyes on the folder before him for effect. “This application has been the backbone of the company. We conceived the idea, developed the software. We had proprietary rights over it. It’s what got us the initial investment.”

“Had being the operative word.” I crossed my feet under the table, leaning back in the chair and steepling my hands. “It was an ingenious invention at the time, but that was then. We now have companies offering the same kind of software—better, some might argue—and support for a fraction of the cost of hosting an entire department in-house. Bodies in cubicles amount to valuable real estate.”

A flash of whispers erupted across the room. Shifty glances were sent my way, but this was what I did, and I was incredibly good at my job.

I waited for the room to settle before adding, “And downsize the Genesis team.”

Another wave of gasps and dismissive groans.

“Genesis is our biggest revenue generator. That’s the product that gets us the business.” This time, the current CEO and one of the founding members spoke. Genesis was his baby. “That’s our pride,” he contended. “Our identity in the market.”

I shifted my weight in the chair to lean forward. “Do you know how much Venus brings in?” I asked, referring to one of their minor product teams.

“A fraction of a fraction of Genesis,” the Chairperson declared with authority.

“With a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the resources of Genesis,” I replied. “Venus might be small, but that’s where your potential lies. Ease off on the big-revenue venture, and see how your smaller products can drive your business. Manufacturing millions of small parts for a giant car company will open the doors you haven’t been able to get a foot into yet. Parts that will become your forte. No one has yet ventured into the electronic chip design that Venus has mastered already. It will get you the exposure you need.”

Another round of exchanged looks and whispers floated around the room while I waited patiently.

“Most of the layoffs I recommend are the dead weight. It’s all included in the report. It’s not sheer misfortune that they will lose their jobs. I’ve done the profitability review and interviewed individuals and teams.” I looked around the room pointedly. “Which, if you had done before you brought me on, could have saved you some money.” That would be the big dollar amount they had paid me.

A shroud of silence descended on the room as they realized the truth in my words.

“Get rid of a third of the Genesis team. More, if possible. That’s all the product needs. Divert resources to smaller products, and purge the software department.”

A young man, too young to be on the board if not appointed by his father, looked aghast.

“That’s…merciless,” he said, then quietly added, “It’s ruthless.”

And there it was. The word had been slapped on me along with a few others. Coldhearted, cutthroat, cruel. Words used for me in and out of boardrooms. I had made my peace with it a long time ago. That image actually got the job done. And when they hated me to the core, they used another word. Bastard.

I chuckled inwardly.

“My team will be in touch to set up the Chief Transition Officer and guide them through it. I presume you have someone in mind for the job?”

---