Edition 469 – Consequences
I’m 8 years old. I have jobs to do as a child, like setting the table, feeding the dogs and doing the wiping up after dinner (in the days, pre-dishwasher). For the most part, I’m on top of things, though occasionally, I’m distracted. Perhaps the television is on in the lounge room, in readiness for Brian Henderson to commence his evening news bulletin, so I’m laying on the floor, watching whatever is on before hand.
When my jobs aren’t completed as they should be, and the pattern continues for a few days where I have to be reminded, constantly, I’m made aware of the consequences until one day, the penalty is handed down. Lost television privileges for a few days.
I’m 11 years old, on a scout camp. It’s late on a Friday night, in the Watagan Mountains, west of the New South Wales Central Coast. I’m hopeless with my rope tying skills, and tend to hang back, when we’re lashing the tent poles together. These are the days, pre-pop up tent. The heavy canvas material (which, I can still remember the smell of), is thrown over the three poles that form the two uprights and the main support. Except, on the Saturday morning inspection, when our scout leader tests the strength of our handy work, the tent collapses. Our patrol is forced into a rebuild of our tent, all grumbling at the actions of our scout leader. Yet, what we failed to recognise at the time is that shoddy preparation, has consequences.
I’m 18 years old and really struggling with a subject at university. I’ve not had much exposure to microeconomics in my high school days, and some of the concepts don’t come easily to me. Instead of knuckling down, trying to learn some of the terms, or even reaching out to the lecturer, I reason to myself that, to this point in my life, I’ve not failed any subject at school, and instead, will be able to wing it. Except, by avoiding the extra work that was necessary, I failed to acknowledge the consequences of failure. Ultimately, I didn’t pass the subject and had to re-sit it a year later. Immediately, that delayed my eventual completion of my degree.
I see this in family businesses all the day. A lack of any consequences, leads to apathy inside the business.
The employee that gets away with a poor attitude, and who isn’t counselled in a timely manner, thinks they can continue in this way, for they feel they’re untouchable. There’s no consequences, so there is no commitment to changed performance.
A key piece of machinery isn’t maintained as it should. In computer terms, when it’s not working well, it’s merely rebooted, to get over the problem that besets it today. The reboot works, until one day it doesn’t, which creates chaos. Production is halted, and staff are standing around, because whomever is responsible for machinery maintenance, didn’t consider the consequences of a complete shutdown of the production line.
If there are no consequences, lapses occur in a family business. One lapse is brushed off merely as that – a one-off. Yet, before long, it becomes a culture that overtakes the business. There are no consequences, as a result of a lack of accountability. A lack of accountability will, eventually, scuttle a business, for it gets to the point where it’s external consequences that take hold.
Not paying the bank your loan back, creates consequences that, once the road has started to be ventured down, it’s hard to return from.
Not paying the Australian Taxation Office what they are owed, which isn’t your money, but is actually funds you hold in trust for them, creates consequences that can lead to personal, as well as business ramifications.
And whilst these last two examples may appear extreme, these are the eventual consequences, of not ensuring there are consequences, earlier in the chain. At some point, the power to deal with consequences, is removed from the hands of the family business owner, with no turning back.\
This Week’s Tip
Consequences create accountability.