Rarely can I speak from a position of knowledge or experience; As readers of The Mag have probably noticed, my ignorance will never stop me from commenting on a beautiful game.
I was playing rubbish football, a very poor manager in Fleet Street and far too often conceding illogical results. Like many people I think.
However, this week I am obliged to comment on Jim Robertson’s report that Arsenal FC (aka Woolwich) is cutting around 60 jobs, or 7% of its workforce.
You’re probably assuming that my answer stems from a strange obsession with the former south London outfit and their – how shall I describe it without breaking the libel laws – interesting manager.
Well, think again. What I noticed in Jim’s article was the involvement of a management consulting firm in these cost reductions.
Look up the definition of management consultant in any dictionary and this is what you will find: “One who advises business or industrial firms in the conduct of their business and the development and installation of more satisfactory procedures for their use.”
So far, so good. Sounds pretty logical, right?
Then consider an alternative description of a management consultant by an industry insider: “The one who steals your watch, then demands a fortune to tell you the time.” Well, I changed the words a bit, but that’s what Martin Kihn says in House of Lies. He must know that he worked for a powerful consulting firm in New York.
Generously, I’m assuming that some of these highly paid so-called experts know what they’re doing, they don’t just jump into a job with no initial knowledge of how the business works and after a few weeks tell the directors: “That man’s business may go, and his business may go; and his business.”
To hell with being generous. We have to start from the beginning. Management consultants are hired and paid a lot of money to make the company more efficient; in other words, getting more blood out of the stone. They are not hired to suggest increasing company costs or hiring additional employees!
It may not say anything in the contract they sign “We want you to help us save money by cutting jobs” but that’s the reality.
Full disclosure: Boston Consulting Group, the firm that used a fine-toothed comb when inspecting Arsenal, was hired by my former employers at The Sunday Times some 13 years ago.
Before anyone thinks: “Ah, Ritter is an angry old fool who lost his job when BCG highlighted his failures” I would just like to confirm that my departure from Fleet Street is not even related to the arrival of remote management consultants. Please don’t flatter them. However, I could be a grumpy old fool. . .
Two guys from BCG walked into the sports department (it’s a bit like a Dave Allen joke, isn’t it?). They drew attention because they were wearing expensive suits, and the production journalists they were observing could barely manage a tie between them.
They also distinguished themselves by asking a question that any young hack with half a brain would consider a joke. “Can you tell me why you are changing this report? Is it necessary? Did the reporter make a mistake? Why are you reading that newspaper?”
A sub-editor with decades of experience can answer: “Because it’s wrong. Yes. Yes. Because it’s part of the job.”
The reason they got the most attention was that when the clocks were ticking down to thunderous low time and sub-editors and their supervisors were busy with the weekly rush to send pages to the printers, those management consultants were nowhere to be seen. We called it the sometimes crazy part of the work week, Head Down, Mindless Boogie. That’s the polite version anyway.
“Oh” you can say “Better time management would eliminate this chaos.” Maybe that’s the case in some normal industries, but Fleet Street is a little different. Only Mystic Meg could have predicted exactly what would happen when the Spurs lost again and the owner pulled the trigger.
Call me old fashioned, but I thought the busiest hours of Saturday night/Sunday morning would show these charlatans why the department employs a certain amount of staff and freelancers. Instead, the relative calm before the storm became the focus of BCG’s analysis; for want of a better word.
Here’s what management consultants had to tell their recruits: “We saw that most of these people were reading newspapers.” Well, of course we were. We check and re-check the names, dates, matches and other facts entered in the sports section (or any other section of the newspaper) to ensure that it is as accurate as possible.
Until 40 years ago, before the printing unions overplayed their hand and locked themselves out, every newspaper employed non-journalists to do most of this work. Yes, there was massive over-employment in Fleet Street and the provinces, but there were fewer mistakes on the grid.
When Eddie Shah, Rupert Murdoch and the rest finally caught the nettle, production journalists, aka sub-editors, took on jobs previously done by printers. Thousands of jobs were gone.
The so-called “Wapping revolution” removed the threat (literally and figuratively) of wildcats striking jobs, but it also required producer journalists, who were almost always ex-reporters, to do the jobs of their former highly paid colleagues, as well as the jobs they had been trained to do. Safety nets have gone the same way as printers. From the door.
Anyway, back to management consultants, the ones who steal your watch, the ones who charge a fortune to tell you the time.
I don’t really blame them; they are allowed to pose as experts and are loaded with money by morally weak company executives. One reason is that when laid-off employees start asking why, bosses may say: “We’ve independently reviewed business practices and here are the results. Don’t take it personally.”
How comfortable and arm length compared to: “I’ve known you for 30 years, you’re a good employee and colleague, but we’re desperately trying to cut budgets.”
Management consultants are many things, but they are not fools. Wouldn’t he accept £100 an hour to tell management what to do? Just make sure you’re saying what they want to hear. . .
Managers who eliminated the safety nets provided by printers in the 1980s have crowded out sub-editors in this millennium. No wonder the standard of journalism is falling as fast as newspaper sales.
Obviously, none of this is new. When managers want to increase profits, they look for a soft target, an easy option. Reject the most qualified and experienced workers who earn the highest salaries. Cut the headcount, lower the average salary, see the balance sheet improve, reward yourself with a big pay raise, and everyone’s a winner, baby.
Don’t waste a second wondering how the rest of the crew will handle the extra work. We have seen this with the Salfords. We have seen it in Woolwich. Both clubs are controlled by Americans.
Not Newcastle United. Only time will tell if this will affect how the unknown workers at St James’ Park are treated.