In 1957, Peter Drucker first used the expression “postmodern organization” to describe a new kind of fluid, organic, flexible company. In a book titled, Landmarks of Tomorrow, Drucker wrote that the shift from the universe of mechanical cause and effect to a new universe of pattern, purpose, and process would permanently transform how leaders view themselves and their jobs.
Drucker was right. The world did become more complex. Our global markets became so complex that a single action can send tremors through the world’s financial markets. We are inter-connected in ways never before seen.
So I found myself asking the last few days: "What would Peter Drucker have done?" How would he react to Wall Street's meltdown? One thing I know for sure, he would have disapproved of the bailout. It pushes more money into the wrong places - into the hands of bankers. He would have looked to fix the problem at its source.
And where's the source? The commercial paper that enables corporations to do business is tied to the money markets. When it froze up, when the value of a money market share "broke the buck," that's when the panic began.
I believe that Peter Drucker would have looked to the money markets to fix the problem. He would have insured it against "breaking the buck." That would enable the commercial paper to flow freely again and the panic would end.
Yes, it's a far different world from 1957. But if Peter Drucker were alive, the conversation would be different. Peter Drucker would have said: "Resist the stampede to the simple, quick fix. Work for the long term systemic solution."

I facilitated the work of a Board of a major medical center on Monday. It was their second day-long offsite. The purpose of the first offsite was to clarify that the Board no longer governed the institution, but rather was an advisory, fund-raising board. This was a hard conversation, because three of the six founders of the institution still served on the Board - and they still saw themselves as "owners" and thus governors, even though the center was now governed by a much larger university. It took some powerful facilitation - and at times heated conversation - to iron that issue out.
This time, we focused on the need to expand the medical center campus. The Board needed to take the lead in raising $50 million. My goal was to get them to commit to raising the money as their top priority. Everything hinged on the preparation. I worked with the CEO, helping him polish his argument. I also worked with the fund development director, helping her hone her case for change. Their presentations came together nicely. By noon, I called the question. "Are you ready to commit to this as the Board's top priority?" I went around the room, asking each person to declare his or her position.
It worked beautifully. Every single Board member agreed the top priority was raising the $50 million. We then spent the afternoon defining who would be responsible for what. Who  was responsible for introducing new prospects (Board members), who was responsible for qualifying prospects (staff), and who was responsible for making the ask (senior staff).
Lewis, one of the founding fathers, joined the meeting in the late afternoon. He raised his hand, and when I called on him, he said he didn’t see the need for the expansion. I explained that we were now discussing how to implement the Board's goal. He asked the CEO to explain the need. I cut him off. "We've already covered that," I said. "We're moving on." I felt badly. But it was my job to keep the Board on track.
After the meeting adjourned, many people came up and told me I'd done a superb job. I took the Board chair aside. "What did you think of how I handled it?"
"You did exactly the right thing," he said. "Even though he is capable of making a gift of $5 million, we can’t let him disrupt our meetings. You handled it just right."

For the past month, I've been working with the CEO of a financial services company in Southern California. He's four weeks into the job; three other CEOs preceded him in the last five years. As a result, the company has suffered a loss of trust, teamwork, and strategic direction. John, the CEO, hired me to help get things back on track. One of his first goals was to rebuild the leadership group into a team.
The group of 12 met for two days at a resort near San Diego. I facilitated. We talked about what it takes to be a real team. We talked about the "Five Habits of High Performing Teams."  (A tool available in our store describes these habits in detail.). We discussed the difference between groups and teams. We developed a clear understanding of the rules of team play. We agreed the team's purpose would be to develop and monitor strategy, identify key organizational issues, improve efficiency, and build trust and communication throughout the company.
"This is hard to do," one of the leaders said. "It takes time, it takes energy and a huge commitment from all of us. Are we really ready to commit to this?"
Another said: "We've got to sell this to our board of directors. We've been highly profitable. How is this going to pay off?"
John, the CEO, was firm and insistent. "We need to be a team. We are dependent on each other to achieve our goals. We need to meet regularly and we need to build the trust and communication here. Yes, we've been successful. But we can be assured of sustained success only if we do this."
After we had discussed exactly how the team would operate, I asked each of the 12 to proclaim whether they were ready to commit to this new team. Most said yes. A few were ambivalent. One of them, Mike, said: "I'd like to sleep on it; this is a big change for us."
The next morning, we went around the room again. Mike said: "My issue is this: I want to believe we can be a team. But we have yet to demonstrate the necessary commitment and focus to be a team. I want to hear John say exactly how committed he is."
John spoke at length. He described the core values he wanted to instill in the company. He described his vision and strategy. He asked people for feedback - and the resulting discussion lasted several hours. I was delighted because I wanted them to experience what it felt like to be a team.
At the end of the day, I turned to Mike again. "What's your sense now?" I asked. "Are you ready to commit?"
"I'm on board," he said with a smile.

I've been thinking about the word "leverage." The inter-woven leveraging of financial products has made many people rich. In the past few months, it has also made many people a lot less wealthy than they were a year ago. The word has gotten a bad rap the past few days as we've watched highly leveraged Wall Street companies implode amid panic and fear of further credit meltdowns. It is clear that financial leverage will be much more tightly regulated in the future. Exactly how, we'll see.
But "leverage" is still one of the most important things a leader can do. If a leader tries to do everything alone, you get what I call the "genius with a thousand helpers." Those kinds of leaders don't empower others; they don't hire highly capable people. Instead, they need to be everywhere, all the time, doing everything, making every decision. That is the opposite of leverage.
The leveraged leader, on the other hand, pushes decisions downward. Leveraged leaders instill trust. They expect people to make decisions on their own. They support those decisions once they're made. It's a lot more fun to work for these kinds of leaders. You can grow. You can learn. You can make mistakes without fear of retaliation. After all, the leveraged leader doesn't pretend to be a genius. He or she genuinely understands that the organization is stronger because many people are assuming responsibility as "owners" of the company.
My recent musings about the "leveraged leader" have been about how to achieve the optimum balance. If Wall Street serves as an example - perish the thought! - then it serves to remind us that leverage can go too far. Leverage needs to be balanced with regulation. Leveraged leaders need to instill in the people around them clear operating rules. How are decisions going to be made? When do I make the final call? When is the decision someone else's to make? Those operating principles are at the heart of being a balanced, leveraged leader. Given the fact that I teach the principles and art of decision making to groups, it puts the value of those workshops in context. For without that balancing, minus a clear understanding of the rules and boundaries of decision making, leveraged leaders will eventually implode.

The great California budget deadlock of 2008 has now reached record territory. The business of the state has ground to a halt, programs aren't able to move forward, schools are in disarray, people aren’t being paid - all because the governor and legislative leaders have boxed themselves into a corner. It is easy to say it represents a new low in California politics. It's harder to say what the long-term solution might be.
Over dinner tonight, a friend of mine, a former state senator, suggested a constitutional convention. "We need to rethink everything," he said. "We need to rethink how we elect people, the initiative process, the two-thirds vote. Everything."
I suggested the solution was in my book "Straight Talk." The key, I said, is that the players need to agree on the process up front. They need clear ground rules, and there needs to be a neutral facilitator. One of the ground rules should be that legislators and staff don't get paid once the deadline expires. Another should be that no one can take a hard position in advance. For example, no signed statements against a tax increase or against a particular funding category. Another rule should be that lawmakers agree to support whatever budget comes out of the process.
"Do you really think it would work?" he asked.
"Yes, it would, if everyone agreed that the status quo is unacceptable."
"Ah," he said, " I knew there was a catch!"

The CEO of a large financial services company used to hold meetings of his leadership team twice a week. He held them in a small conference room on the third floor of their San Francisco headquarters. The room was too small for the 14 participants to fit in comfortably. Ironically, there was a much larger conference room on the same floor near the CEO's office.
One day, a member of the team asked the CEO, “Bruce, why do you continue to cram us into this conference room twice a week. Why don’t we move the meeting to the bigger conference room down the hall?”
Bruce replied, “This is a high profile conference room. A lot of people walk by. I want them to see who’s in charge and that we’re working together.
If nothing else comes out of these meetings, that will be enough."
Brilliant, the team member thought to himself. "Thanks," he said to the CEO. "I get it now."