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Sustainable Lean The Story of a Cultural Transformation
1st Edition Robert B. Camp (Author) Digital Instant
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Author(s): Robert B. Camp (Author)
ISBN(s): 9781482201550, 1466571691
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 6.93 MB
Year: 2013
Language: english
Sustainable
LEAN
The Story of a Cultural
Transformation

R o bert B. C a mp
A PRODUCTIVITY PRESS BOOK
Sustainable
LEAN
The Story of a Cultural
Transformation

Robert B. C a mp

Boca Raton London New York

CRC Press is an imprint of the

Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business

A PRODUCTIVITY PRESS BOOK

CRC Press
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Boca Raton, FL 33487-2742

© 2013 by Taylor & Francis Group, LLC

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Contents
Preface...................................................................................................... v
About the Author...................................................................................vii

Chapter 1 The Encounter..................................................................... 1

Chapter 2 The Tough Question........................................................... 3

Chapter 3 An Honest Answer.............................................................. 5

Chapter 4 The Process Begins............................................................. 9

Chapter 5 Day 2.................................................................................. 15

Chapter 6 Metrics and More.............................................................. 31

Chapter 7 Cascading and Catchball.................................................. 41

Chapter 8 Hourly Key Performance Indicators and Summation.... 49

Chapter 9 Home Sweet Home............................................................ 57

Chapter 10 Wrap-Up and Some Advice.............................................. 63

Chapter 11 Confrontations Everywhere............................................. 67

Chapter 12 When It Rains …............................................................... 73

iii
iv • Contents

Chapter 13 Candor and Games........................................................... 81

Chapter 14 A War on Two Fronts...................................................... 119

Chapter 15 At Last, Some Good News.............................................. 127

Chapter 16 Pulling Out the Stops...................................................... 133

Chapter 17 The Showdown................................................................ 145

Chapter 18 A New Day....................................................................... 151

Chapter 19 The Fat Lady Sings.......................................................... 153

Chapter 20 A New Era........................................................................ 157

Epilogue................................................................................................ 161
Author’s Notes..................................................................................... 167
Further Readings................................................................................. 169
Preface
Anybody can start a Lean transformation. That’s easy. What’s hard,
is ­sustaining it.
Data indicate that more than 80% of all first-time transformations fail.
Why is that? Is it because applying Lean is hard? No! Is it because sustain-
ing Lean is hard? No! Then what?
In the book that follows, Jim, a plant manager for an electronics firm,
has already had one failure and realizes that if he doesn’t act quickly, he
may not get a chance to survive a second.
In one of life’s lucky happenstances, Jim meets Frank, a Lean consul-
tant, who agrees to help Jim and his staff implement and sustain a new
transformation. But before Frank will agree to take Jim on as a client, he
establishes some tough rules.
Those rules, Jim will learn, are the beginning of the discipline that he
and his staff must embrace in order to become Lean. As it turns out, the
reason most Lean transformations fail is that leaders fail to lead. Frank
will infuse Jim’s staff with new attitudes toward leadership and teamwork.
He will also teach them great tools to monitor their success.
Along his journey, Jim’s personal life will take some frightening turns,
and at their worst, his career will be threatened. What Jim will learn is
that good leadership pays dividends way in excess of the individual
­contributions paid in, and that the success of his transformation will alter
his career, and his personal life, forever.

v
About the Author
Robert B. Camp holds a bachelor of science degree in engineering from
the United States Military Academy, West Point, New York, and a ­master
of business administration from Franklin Pierce University, Rindge,
New Hampshire.
Robert spent almost 20 years of his career working for Mobil and
Lockheed Martin. Throughout his career, he has performed roles that have
drawn heavily on his increasing body of Lean knowledge and experience.
He has spent more than 10 years consulting to government and industry
leaders on the topic of Lean. His consulting work has taken him through-
out North America, Europe, and Asia.
Today, he is vice president of operations for a company making
­specialty apparel for the healthcare industry. He is a board member of
the Association for Manufacturing Excellence (AME), an organization
­dedicated to the advancement of Lean concepts around the world.
Robert is the author of Go and See: A Journey about Getting to Lean,
Ascoli Publishing LLC, 2009.

vii
1
The Encounter

I’d like to tell you that I met Frank in the first-class section of a flight from
China, but that wasn’t the case. No, I met Frank when he addressed our
town’s Rotary.
Don’t get me wrong, the Rotary brings in some great lecturers, but Frank
had passion and he had a compelling message. The message? Stop bleeding
off U.S. manufacturing to other countries.
Frank’s discussion could have been high level and philosophical,
but wasn’t. It was data packed and offered solutions. I wasn’t alone in my
appreciation for his message. Not only did we give him a standing ovation,
several of us approached him after the session ended.
When it was my turn to talk, we exchanged a handshake and I told
Frank my story.
Two years ago, I’d brought in some consultants to help me to employ
Lean in my factory. At first, they did great stuff. Costs dropped, defects
dropped, and delivery times dropped. It was amazing.
When our contract ran out, I expressed my sincere gratitude. Their
lead consultant asked me to extend the contract, but corporate had been
breathing down my neck to get my consulting costs back in line. I had to
decline.
In the months that followed, things did all right, but then seemed to
slowly drift back to the preconsultant conditions. I was frustrated. My boss
was frustrated. My employees were frustrated. “What did I do wrong?”
I asked Frank.
He’d listened politely to my story and only now did a smile creep across
his face. “What you did,” he said, “was to trust someone else to perform
a job that only you and your managers could really do.”
“I don’t understand,” I admitted.

1
2 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“What you did was to allow consultants to come in and assume leader-
ship of your Lean transformation. I hate to admit it, but even consultants
don’t always get it.”
“I’m not following,” I said, looking at the floor. “What should I have
done?”
Frank looked at the line behind me and said, “The answer to your q ­ uestion
will take longer than a few minutes.” He handed me his b ­ usiness card and
said, “If you are really interested, give me a call tomorrow m ­ orning after
7:00 a.m. I’m only in town until 5:00 tomorrow evening, but I’ll meet you
for coffee in the morning and answer your question.”
I thanked him again and left.
That night I woke from an ugly dream. My boss was telling me that
he was going to have to fire me because my plant’s numbers had all
gone south. In a transition that would make no sense in waking life, the
­consultants were in front of me saying, “We could have told you this was
going to happen.”
As I snapped awake, security was leading me out of my office and my
boss was shaking someone else’s hand, someone who I knew, and with
the clarity that only a dream can provide, I could tell that he was my
replacement.
My heart was racing and there was a sour taste in my mouth. Hours
later, when I finally got back to sleep, it was only after vowing to call
Frank in the morning. Thus began what has become the most amazing
­transformation of my factory and, more importantly, of me.
The months ahead would see our costs plummet, our on-time delivery
go from the low 80s to nearly 100%, and our defects drop by close to 80%.
I’d like to tell you that it was a breeze getting there, but that would be a lie.
It was hard work and often painful, but more of that later.
2
The Tough Question

Frank met me at a local coffee shop. My fear from the dream had never
fully subsided. I was ready for answers and was willing to listen to ­solutions
that would get me back to what I’d had two years earlier.
“So,” Frank opened, “tell me about your experience.”
“Where to begin …” I ventured. “OK, it started like this. A friend had
used these folks and they had done wonders for him. He’d done so well
that he’d been promoted the following year. ‘What have you got to lose?’
he’d asked me. I called the agency and set up an appointment.”
“The lead consultant described the kinds of things they’d do and that
we’d measure results every step of the way. They weren’t cheap, but they
guaranteed four times their cost in first-year savings.”
“Did you get it?” Frank asked.
“That and then some,” I replied. “It was amazing how their methodology
worked. The more our costs dropped, the higher our first-pass yield got.
The better our yield, the faster our processes became and the more pleased
our customers were. It was wonderful ....”
Frank interrupted my reverie, “Then what?”
I sniffed derisively. “Then, I didn’t renew their contract and things
seemed to fall apart.” I told Frank about the dream and admitted that,
since the dream, I’d realized that there were signs that my boss might,
indeed, be looking to replace me.
“It takes a good dose of paranoia to reach a general manager position,”
he said. “I wouldn’t lose sleep over this.”
Unconvinced by Frank’s bonhomie, I asked, “Is there anything I can
do?” already sensing the answer. I suspected that my heydays were behind
me and that it was now only a matter of time until I was let go.
“I don’t know,” Frank responded. “How hard are you willing to work?”

3
4 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“I’m willing to do what it takes,” I replied, “but isn’t the question

‘How much are you willing to pay?’” I asked sarcastically.
“No, if I wanted to know that,” he said, “I’d have asked you that.”
“I’ll tell you the truth,” Frank continued, “it’s a long shot. Most leaders
don’t have the commitment to see a Lean transformation through, but on
the off chance you’re different, I’ll tell you what the next step is and give
you until tomorrow to give me an answer.”
“That simple?” I asked.
“That hard,” Frank responded.
“OK, shoot.”
“Are you willing to change the way you manage so as to become a Lean
Leader? Now, before you answer ‘Yes,’ let me tell you what is required of a
Lean Leader. You will need to commit to leading with both data and heart.
You’ll need to part company with people who aren’t willing to support the
transition to Lean; some of them might even be close to you, friends even.
You’ll need to listen more and delegate more and lead by truly getting out
front.”
“You think about that and ask if you are really willing to do that. If you
are, you can turn your company around in six months. In that time, you’ll
be well on your way to a lifelong transformation.”
“Of course,” he continued, “if you decide you can’t, you’ll be in good
company. Fewer than 20% of executives are able.”
“So, think about it and give me a call tomorrow.” Frank checked his
watch. “I’m sorry, Jim, but I’ve got to dash. I’ll look forward to your call.”
“Wait!” I urged. “What will it cost me?”
Frank had already grabbed his mug and was walking to the recycle
­station. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. Meanwhile, ask yourself what
you’d be willing to pay to be successful, to turn your firm around, to be
part of the 20% who were able to become true winners; not only them,
but everyone who works for them. You can tell me that tomorrow, too.”
Frank pulled a 3 × 5 card from his breast pocket and made a notation.
“Tomorrow,” he said, waving good-bye.
3
An Honest Answer

I mulled Frank’s question over for hours. Was I willing to change?

I thought I was, but the mere fact that Frank assigned so much value to
the answer made me hesitant.
What would I be asked to change? Change the way I lead? That could
mean lots of things, but Frank had specifically said that I might have to
part company with folks who worked for me, maybe even friends. Could
I do that?
All told, I only had six direct reports: Phil, my controller; Hank,
my ­engineering director; Gus, my operations director; Flo, my HR
­d irector; Justine, my sales director; and Carlos, my materials director.
Well, then there was Margaret, my secretary. Which of them would I
be willing to lose? Really, the question was which would I be willing
to fire?
I rolled that question around all afternoon and into the evening.
At ­supper, Joyce, my 16-year-old, said, “You haven’t heard a word I said,”
in a huffy voice more appropriate for a wife than a daughter. Jim Jr.,
my 11-year-old, said “Can’t you see that Dad’s working something out in
his head?”
Out of the mouths of babes, I thought.
“You’re right,” I admitted to Joyce. I gave a sheepish smile across the
table to Bridget, my wife. Looking at Jim Jr., I said, “And you’re right, too,
son. I’m working through a really tough question that I’ve got to answer
tomorrow.”
Bridget reached across the table, taking my wrist. I knew it to be a sign
of affectionate support, so when she asked, “Anything we can help you
with?” I didn’t get defensive. I just looked down at my plate and shook my
head in the negative.

5
6 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“Do you think you could stick with us a few minutes? Joyce has been
invited to the senior prom and wants our permission.”
“Wow, Joyce, that’s quite an accolade. A freshman getting invited to the
senior prom?”
I caught a look from Bridget. I could tell that she didn’t want Joyce
going, but I hadn’t heard her reasons earlier. I’d been too wrapped up in
my own problems.
Then it hit me, didn’t Frank say that part of changing was that I was
going to have to listen more? Boy, I’d failed that requirement already. Maybe
I really did need to change. I sure wasn’t being much of a leader at home.
I looked at Joyce and said, “Honey, this is a big deal for you, but it’s a big
deal for your mom and me, as well. Let us talk it over and we’ll give you an
answer by tomorrow night.”
“Whatever,” said Joyce in disgust. She pushed away from the supper table
and marched off to her room, only to slam the door. She’d been ­looking
for an easy “Yes,” and, I had to admit, I’d been the one in the past to give
it. I’d wanted to avoid confrontation, but now realized that I’d undercut
Bridget every time I did. I’d sacrificed my relationship with my wife, for a
relationship with my kids. I wondered if being a pushover really gave me
a ­relationship with them, or did they just use me to overcome their mom’s
objections?
“Jeez!” I thought, “Was I this bad at work?” That sent me off on another
bout of self-reflection. At least I’d been able to defuse Joyce’s crisis long
enough to talk things over with Bridget. I suppose I should take credit
where I could find it.
That night I tossed and turned. Bridget and I had resolved to let Joyce
go to the prom, but that the boy had to come to the house for supper
­beforehand, and he’d have to have her home by midnight. We knew we’d
get pushback from Joyce, but we were both OK with that. I have to admit,
it felt good being a real partner to Bridget and working through this
­problem like a real couple.
Now I was worrying about Frank’s second question. What was a trans-
formation worth to me? Well, I began my ruminations. The c­ onsultants
had saved me $1,200,000 in six months on revenue of $100 million. If we
could do half of that with Frank’s help, we could save half a percent of rev-
enue or about $1 million on $200 million of sales. If I paid Frank half that,
he’d walk away with $600,000 and I’d still have my job and any savings we
made after that.
I drifted off to sleep sometime later. I was as prepared as I was going to be.
 An Honest Answer • 7

The following day I called Frank.

“So,” he asked, “What did you decide?”
I was honest. “I decided that I might just need to change. I won’t know
until I do it though. I guess I worry about what will happen if we get part
way through this and I just can’t take any more.”
“Then,” Frank stated, “you’ll just have to quit.” He let the statement sink
in. Quit. A four-letter word to anyone who had even the most remote idea
of being a leader.
Frank continued, “If you go in with that mindset, though, you’ll already
have one leg over the fence. You’re either going to see this through,
no ­matter what the cost, or you may as well just end it here. Which do you
want to do?”
I wasn’t a quitter and Frank had really impressed me during his talk to
the Rotary.
“I’m in,” I said with conviction. I honestly think it wasn’t until that
moment that I made the decision to fully commit.
“Well then,” Frank began, “when can we begin?”
“How about next month?” I asked, consulting my calendar. I shuddered
at the sheer volume of commitments that were already lined up. I’d just
have to shift some, I told myself.
“How about next Monday,” Frank responded.
“No way,” I replied without hesitation.
“So, you’re prepared to postpone improving for a month? What will
make next month better? How do I know that we won’t get a week away
from starting and I’ll get a call from your secretary to postpone again?
No, it’s either next week or you can find someone else.”
I was half ready to say, “Then I’ll get someone else,” but I knew he was
right.
“Wow, you drive a hard bargain,” I said with a laugh, trying to defuse
the moment. Frank hadn’t raised his voice or seemed cross. He’d been
very matter-of-fact as he delivered his questions, but I could tell this wasn’t
his first bullfight.
“Perhaps,” I began again, “you could tell me what we’re about to begin.”
“I guess that’s fair,” Frank responded. “OK, let me give you a brief
­synopsis of what’s ahead.”
8 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“We’re going to work together for six months. Each of those months I’m
going to spend a week at your site. The first month, you and I are going
to meet and lay out our plan of action. On the second day, you are going
to assemble your direct reports and we’re going to spend three days
­devising a metric system that ties back into your mission statement.”
“You and I will wrap up the last day. We’ll lay out the plan for the
­following month and I’ll be gone by noon. Then you and your staff
are going to begin the process of measuring your performance in each of
the areas until I return the following month.”
“Wait!” I stammered. “You’re going to tie up me and my staff for a week?
Honestly, Frank, maybe I can’t do this.”
“Let me ask you, Jim, what are you going to do that’s honestly more
important? I’m asking you to set aside one week to create a strategic plan
for the rest of your organization’s life. Do you really think that what you’ll
do instead will be more important?”
“It’s just a guess,” he continued, “but I’ll bet you spend most of your day
fighting problems that should never make it to your level. You’re frustrated
and wish your people would take more initiative. Corporate is breathing
down your neck and you never seem to be able to get out from under their
gaze. Am I close?”
I was mute. He had just described my work life with brutal accuracy.
Frank realized I was too embarrassed to respond and simply asked in
a soft voice, “Are you ready to stop all that and get control?”
“Yes,” I almost whispered into the phone.
“All right, then. I’ll see you Monday. I’ll be there at 9:00 a.m. to give
you a few minutes to get things going, but then you’re mine until noon
on Friday. Do you agree?”
“Yes.” What else was I going to say?
4
The Process Begins

I was at work at 6:30 a.m. Monday morning. I saw the Sunday night shift
shuffle out at 7:00 a.m. and met with my staff at 8:00. I gave them a heads-
up about what was about to befall us. There was the expected grousing,
but I raised my hand. “Folks, this is our future. We’ve been adrift ever
since the consultants left two years ago. Our numbers have dropped across
the board and we’re under constant scrutiny by Corporate. I don’t want to
live that way anymore.”
“Now, this isn’t mandatory. You’re welcome to resign.” I paused to let
the thought sink in. “If you don’t resign by tomorrow morning, then I’ll
expect to see all of you back here in the conference room at 8:00 a.m.
Clear?”
I was rarely this dictatorial, but honestly, I couldn’t see us succeeding
if we went at this half-heartedly. I really felt that was Frank’s whole point
during the phone call last week. You either want this or you don’t. I could
hear my football coach’s voice as I recited that admonition in my head.
There was no response. I swept the papers that were in front of me into
a pile and stood. “Gus,” I said to my operations director, “you’re in charge
for the rest of the day. I want you to choose the person to whom you’ll
assign that responsibility for the rest of the week. Let Margaret know by
noon. Ask her to tape a note to the door if I’m still in my meeting.”
“Anything else?” I asked looking at the others.
No one said a word. They just gathered up their things and filed out.
Frank arrived at 9:00 a.m. I met him at the door and we exchanged
pleasantries as I walked him to my office. Once we were seated across from
each other, he began.
“OK, you already know the week’s schedule. Let me give you an overview
of what we’re going to achieve. But first, let me explain why it’s important.”

9
10 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“When the last consultants left you, your leadership team no more knew
how to conduct business in a Lean manner than they knew how to conduct
it on the moon. The consultants had been sure to do all the work and
gave you not a clue how to sustain the gains they’d made. We’re going to
change that, but to do so you need to understand what the consultants did.
That means that you and your staff are going to have to learn about Lean.”
“Now, to give your consultants their due, they did exactly what you’d
contracted with them to do, and from the sound of things, they did a good
job. The problem was not the consultants. The problem is that you didn’t
know what you didn’t know.”
“Let me repeat that. You didn’t know what you didn’t know. That means
that to you, Lean meant making your product flow better, faster, smoother,
not that it meant changing the way you do business, the way you lead,
­manage, and conduct yourselves. That’s hard to sell, so consultants rarely try.”
“In fact, some consultants don’t even know that Lean isn’t just a bunch
of tools and Kaizens. Well, I’m here to say that Lean is more than tools
and Kaizens. It’s a completely different way to manage, and while some
consultants don’t know that, you’ve got to.”
“The other problem is that most leaders want to change their
­organizations without having to personally change. That just won’t work.”
“We’ll talk a little about that on this visit, but next visit is when we’ll
really get into it. The plan is to make you and your staff as knowledgeable
about what’s happening as anyone in the facility, because you can’t lead
from behind.”
“Let me repeat that, too: You can’t lead from behind.”
“To lead, you’re going to want to know everything that’s going to ­happen
in this organization before it happens. But, you’re not going to microman-
age. You are going to be part of a deliberative body that will actually decide
what to do and where. You’re going to be the front line in leading Lean and
you need to have the best knowledge of anyone in this organization about
all that Lean implies, not just the manufacturing piece.”
“There may be one exception to that statement, and that is the subject of
this morning’s discussion. Any questions so far?”
I shook my head from side to side.
“All right. You’re going to need a Continuous Improvement person. This
is the person who will train Lean concepts to your employees and be the
first to execute the tools of Lean on your behalf. That person should know
more about Lean than you do. At least for now. So, before we go any f­ urther,
is there anyone already in your employ who knows a lot about Lean?”
 The Process Begins • 11

I began a mental inventory of our people. I was almost finished when I hit
on the name of one of our production managers. Dale was smart, mature
beyond his years, and ran a tight ship. I now recalled that Dale had spent
a lot of time with the consultants when they’d been here. His ­department
had never lost the gains they’d made. In fact, he’d actually improved on
his numbers over time.
“Actually, there is one guy,” I admitted. “He’s a production m ­ anager,
but he seems to understand Lean. He spent a lot of time with the consul-
tants and his area has actually gotten better since they left.”
“That’s good,” said Frank. “Before we summon him, let me explain a
couple things to you. Tomorrow, you and your staff are going to form
a new body. It’s going to be called the Lean Council. The title won’t make
any sense until next time I’m here, but it’s important that you have one
going forward.”
“Now, here’s the thing about your Continuous Improvement person.
You’re going to have to promote him to director. He’s going to need the
same reporting relationship as all your other direct reports. He can’t be
junior to them, and the reason will become clear in time.”
“For now, let me say that this person may have to say and do some
unpopular things and that means he’s going to get pushback. He needs to
have your unflagging support. If you want to meet with him for a while
before he makes any changes, that’s fine, but when you two agree on the
approach, your folks have to understand that your CI Director speaks with
your authority in matters of Lean.”
“You can take six months to make the promotion official, but Dale’s going
to have to be in the room the rest of the week and at all the Lean Council
meetings in the future. Your staff is going to have to listen to him the same
way they do to each other now, and possibly take direction from him.”
“Now, if Dale’s not ready for that kind of a promotion, you can hire
someone with the right pedigree. The problem is that they don’t know
your culture. It could be a couple of years before they can be assimilated,
and in the meantime they may step on some toes without knowing it. That
makes it tough for people to respect and follow them.”
“My advice is that you are better off to have someone with the right
attitude, but not the right training. It’s easier to send them off to school
for Lean training, than to hire someone from outside and coach them in
your culture. Your culture is about to become very important and actually
a critical part of hiring people in the future.”
“So, let me ask you again, is Dale your guy?”
12 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

I thought for a second. “I think so, but it seems wrong to make this
­decision without talking to the rest of my staff. I’d like their input,
­especially Gus’s and Flo’s.”
“Who are Gus and Flo, by title?” Frank asked.
“Oh, sorry. Gus is my operations director and Flo is my HR director.”
“Well, first let me praise you. Going forward, transparency is going to
be your watchword. You are going to have to be open with your people,
­especially your direct reports, and you are going to want to seek their
counsel before making important decisions. You don’t know it now, but
this position, Continuous Improvement Director, is going to be very
­significant to you. Choosing the right person is important.”
“So, do you want to bring Gus and Flo in, or do you want to assemble
your whole team?”
I thought for a second. If I was to be transparent going forward, I might
as well start now. “Whole team,” I replied.
“Just curious. Why your whole team?” Frank asked.
“A couple of reasons,” I began. “First, there’s the issue of transparency.
It’s not like I’ve tried hiding things from my staff, but there were things
that I felt they didn’t need to know, or didn’t need to know, yet. So, I’ve
withheld a few things, but in the main, I have tried to include them in new
information.”
“Then, there’s the issue that I rely on them for help and advice. As you can
imagine, I’d be lost without Phil, my controller. A day doesn’t go by that
I don’t seek his advice, or that he doesn’t come to me with new i­ nformation
about the business that proves really useful in subsequent business
­decisions. I rely on Gus to run the shop floor and to keep things flowing.
We meet every day and talk about operations. I don’t talk with Flo, my HR
director, all that frequently, but I do rely on her to advise me in the hiring,
promotion, and firing process. She’s saved my bacon more than once.”
“So, coming full circle, I feel seeking my staff’s advice is important to
both keeping them in the loop and getting the benefit of multiple minds
thinking about the same problem.”
Frank nodded his head up and down. “Good ideas,” he agreed.
“Just ­curious, do you seek your wife’s opinion the same way?”
I was stunned into silence. It was as if Frank had been a fly on the wall
during the discussion about Joyce going to the prom.
“Um … I’m not as good there,” I admitted.
Frank didn’t comment and he didn’t make a facial expression that
­indicated he was at all judgmental.
 The Process Begins • 13

“All right.” He picked up on the earlier conversation, “In a second you’re

going to contact your staff and seek their input. From what you described,
you don’t take a vote or give them veto power; you simply seek their advice,
right?”
“Right,” I acknowledged.
“Before you go, though, you need to know the terms of our agreement.
I will send you the legalese tonight, but here’s the gist.” Frank went on to
outline the terms of a six-month agreement. They were simple and to the
point. He explained his fee, and that if I decided to part company at any
point, I was still on the hook for the full amount of the six-month contract.
“Do you agree?” he asked.
I thought, almost derisively, that the amount that he just named for a
six-month contract was extremely reasonable. Don’t get me wrong, it was
a lot of money to a small company, and I was going to need Phil’s help to
find it, but I had been prepared to pay ten times that much. I sure as hell
paid a lot more for the other consultants.
I stretched my hand across the table and shook Frank’s hand. “I agree.”
Still holding my hand, Frank said, “One more thing. With the exception
of this week, all your payments will be made a week or more prior to my
next visit. If you’re good with that, we have a deal.”
“I’m good with that,” I responded.
Frank let go of my hand. “All right then, we have a deal.”
“Let’s do the following,” Frank continued. “You need to talk with your
staff and I need to find some coffee.” He looked at his watch. “It’s 9:45.
Let’s get back together at 10:45. Is it OK to meet here in your office?”
“It is.”
“10:45, then.”

My staff agreed on Dale. Gus was upset at first. “That’s who I had
­chosen to stand in for me the rest of the week,” he stated grumpily, but
when he saw that everyone else agreed that Dale was the best candidate,
he gave in.
Gus always wore a frown, so I couldn’t tell whether he was more grumpy
than normal, but if this position was so important, then Dale was the
right man.
14 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

I met up with Frank in the hall outside my office. He was nursing a cup
of coffee and reviewing some notes.
“All set?” he asked, following me into my office.
“We are.”
“Dale our man?”
“He is.”
“All right, here’s what you’ll need for tomorrow. You’ll want to come in
with copies of your mission statement for everyone in the room. You’ll
also need your core values and vision statement, if you have them. I’ll need
electronic copies of those tonight.”
“Next, we’ll need a flip chart and a dry erase board in the room. Can you
do that?”
“I can.”
“I’d recommend people be allowed to dress business casual for the next
four days. They are going to work harder than they have in a long time.
We’re going to need lunch brought in every day and, if you want, coffee
and breakfast items.”
“Any questions?”
I had none.
“OK, I’ll see you here at 7:45 a.m. tomorrow, so I can set up. Do you have
an LCD projector?”
“We do.”
“May I use it for the next four days?”
“You may.”
Frank consulted his watch. “Mine says 11:11, how about yours?”
I checked my watch. “We’re within a minute,” I agreed.
“I asked for your whole day, and I’m leaving a little more than two hours
after we started. I want you to make note of that. Believe it or not, it’s an
important point. When people accomplish a goal earlier than expected,
it’s a reward to give them back their time. Would you agree?”
I looked at my in basket. “I agree.”
Frank shook my hand again. “All right, then. See you tomorrow at 7:45.”
He’s a bit redundant, I thought. He seems to check and double check
every agreement. Of course, I realized, if you want to ensure that you’ve
had positive communication, it’s a good technique. Interesting, I thought.
I’ll bet Frank’s just smart enough to be doing that. I’ll be darned, I thought.
5
Day 2

I was at work at 6:30 a.m. again on Tuesday. I’d picked up some bagels,
cream cheese, lox, and fresh fruit on the way in. Once these were arranged
on the conference room credenza, I began brewing coffee.
With the coffee underway, I found the LCD projector and set it up.
All Frank needed to do was to hook his laptop to it.
Margaret had ensured that the flip chart and markers had been put in
the room. She also had maintenance move a whiteboard on rollers into the
room. And, she’d sent me an e-mail before leaving to say that she’d sent
Frank electronic copies of our mission and values statements.
I took one more glance around the room and then headed to my office to
work on the pile of papers awaiting me.
At 7:40 a.m. I saw Frank pull into the lot. I left my desk and went to the
front door to let him in. He had his satchel of “goodies.” I led him to the
conference room where, after hooking up his laptop to the projector and
making sure it projected his first slide, we had coffee and a bagel.
“What’s ahead?” I asked. “Is this going to be painful for my folks?”
A smile spread across his face as he dabbed at some cream cheese.
“What? You don’t trust me?” he asked.
“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you,” I said. “I’ve put the fate of
my company, and to a greater degree, my personal fate, in your hands. No,
I want to know how hard the road ahead is going to be for my folks.”
He nodded his understanding of my commitment and said, “That’s
going to depend on them. If they’re willing to embrace change, this is
going to be a new renaissance for them. If not, this is going to be painful.
Any idea which way they’ll fall?”
I ran through the list. “Phil, my controller, is still in his 30s. I’d give him
good odds.”

15
16 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“Hank, my engineering director, is a bit imperious, but is a team player.

He could fall either way.”
“Gus, my operations director, is in his late 50s and pretty inflexible.
I don’t think he’ll do that well, if asked to change significantly.”
“Flo, my HR director, is a bit hard to read. She is wound tightly, but has
a heart of gold. I just can’t tell with her.”
“Justine, my sales director, is a go-getter and responds quickly to change.
I’d figure she’d be an early adaptor.”
“Carlos, my materials director, is another story. He’s a hard worker,
but has not adapted well to changes in software and suppliers. I guess that
doesn’t give him good odds, either.”
“One last thing,” Frank inquired, “what about Dale?”
That’s right, I thought, my staff was increased by one yesterday. “Dale,”
I said, “is young, intense, and a real scrambler. Of all my staff, I’d give him
highest odds.”
“Well,” said Frank, “that’s a lot more honest an assessment than I’d have
planned on at this stage. For what it’s worth,” he continued, “I’d give you
high odds, too.”
When said in that manner, it sounded so clinical and matter-of-fact.
He could just as easily have said “Your chances of beating this cancer are
pretty high.” But then, that’s exactly how I’d assessed my own folks. It was
a sobering thought.
At a few minutes before 8:00 a.m., my staff started to trickle in. Most
grabbed coffee and something to eat before sitting down. I noticed that
Frank had been writing something throughout this period. I was curious
as to what it was.
I refocused on the task ahead. Frank and I had agreed that I’d introduce
him and briefly explain what we were going to do for the next three days.
I stood and the room fell silent.
“I’d like to introduce all of you to Frank. He’s a consultant I met recently.”
There was no sound, but I caught some brief eye contact between a few of
them. “I’ve asked Frank to help me.”
“Since the last consultants left us a couple of years ago, our ­progress
drifted for a bit, stalled, and has now moved back to where it was
before they got here. I know Corporate has seen the trend and I’m
­u ncomfortable with the fact that they’ve started making quips about
us during conference calls with the other GMs. We’ve got to stop
the ­backslide and begin the climb back to the top. Frank’s going to
help us.”
 Day 2 • 17

“You’re here because I can’t do it alone. I need each of you to work

­alongside me to get it done.”
“A year from now, I’d like to see our numbers back where they’d been
at the height of our consultant-assisted performance. To get there, we’re
going to have to change the way we approach what we do. Frank’s going
to teach us how.”
“Frank,” I said, “they’re all yours.”
Frank stood, and handed each of us a tent card. “I’d be grateful if you’d
print your first name and title on these,” he said, “and then turn them so
they face me. I presume you all know each other,” he smiled, “so you have
me at a disadvantage.”
When they’d finished, Frank began again.
“OK, as Jim has stated, you’re about to embark on a new journey. The
journey will be difficult, and for some of you, that will be a thrill; for
­others, it will be just hard, and perhaps, unwelcome. Moreover, you are
going to be on this journey while still doing your full-time job.”
“Jim and I have spoken already about the length of my work with
you. We’ve agreed that I’ll be here off and on for six months. I’ll spend
a week with you each month. Then, I’ll leave you to work through your
­assignments on your own.”
“The following month I’ll start by reviewing your progress and then
­setting the next series of challenges.”
“This visit, I’m going to help you through a process that Toyota calls
Hoshin Kanri. We’d translate that as ‘policy deployment’ or ‘strategy
deployment.’ Here’s how it works.”
“For the next hour, you’re going to review your mission statement to
see if it continues to capture the essence of what your site is chartered
with achieving. You’ll either agree that it does, or you’ll modify it until
it does.”
“The next step is a review of that mission statement to determine what
commitments you make in it. Now, those commitments may be stated
overtly, or they may be implied. Either way, we want to capture all the
commitments your mission makes.”
“Then, we want to review your values statement to do the same thing.”
“When we’re finished, we’re going to have a list of commitments. The
next step will be to determine how you’re going to keep track of your
performance against those commitments. We’ll refer to this tracking as
­metrics. You’ll develop at least one metric for every commitment. Some
may need more than one to capture the entire commitment.”
18 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“Now, when we have a way to measure your accomplishment of mission-

centered commitments, you’re going to set a goal for each and determine
who, from within this group, will be held accountable for tracking and
improving each.”
“All that will take us a day to a day and a half. Following that, you’re
going to figure out what you’ll measure at every layer of every o­ rganization
and who you’ll hold accountable. I’m not just talking manufacturing,
either. Everyone will have metrics and you’ll all be held accountable for
performance.”
“Once you have metrics for each subordinate organization, you’ll set
provisional goals for each metric and define who will be held accountable
for achieving those goals. The provisional goals will be discussed with the
accountable party and an agreement reached on the final goal.”
“Flo,” Frank said turning to her, “I’m going to need an organizational
chart by tomorrow. It will need to get down to the supervisory level.
Do you have one?”
Flo nodded her confirmation.
“OK, please bring a copy for everyone and have Margaret send me an
electronic copy tonight.”
“OK,” Frank looked around the room, “who’s got questions?”
The room was silent. If Frank was uncomfortable with the silence,
he didn’t let on that he was.
“All right, if there are no questions, let’s get into it. Jim, will you pass
around the copies of the mission statement?”
I passed the stack to Gus who sat on my right and the papers silently
worked their way around the table.
“Flo,” Frank asked, “would you mind reading the statement?”
Flo looked nervously at me then began.

The mission of Friedman Electronics is to provide flawless components

and assemblies in a timely fashion. We will do this while maintaining
­uncompromising integrity and the highest return on stockholder equity.

“Thank you Flo. Short and sweet. So, what did it say?”
There was silence.
I cleared my throat and said, “We’re committed to providing our
­customers with the best products we are able to provide. That we’ll do so
with honesty and that we’ll return stockholders a fair rate of return on
their investment.”
 Day 2 • 19

“Thank you, Jim. Gus, is that what you read?”

Gus looked up at Frank as if the latter had made a mistake in choosing
him. It was a “Don’t you know who I am?” look.
“Gus?” I prompted him.
Gus looked at me and cleared his throat. “It’s like Jim said: good p
­ roducts,
honest treatment, and dividends to the stockholders.”
Straight to the point, that was Gus.
“Dale, what do you read?”
Dale blushed deeply. He was uncomfortable speaking in a group who
were all senior to him.
“Good point, Dale. Jim, do you want to make an announcement?”
At first I was lost; then I remembered. Dale was now a member of my
direct staff.
“Forgive me, Dale. Moving forward, we’re going to need a Director of
Continuous Improvement. Yesterday, my staff and I chose you to hold that
title. Effective this morning, you report directly to me. We’ll talk more
about what your new title will entail, but for now, I want you to treat the
others in the room as your peers.”
Dale sat shocked for a few heart beats then said, “Thank you all.”
He looked around the table making eye contact with each of the other
members of my staff.
“Frank,” he began, “I heard that we’d provide top-quality products on
time, and that we would do that while treating our customers and each
other honestly. It also says that we’ll deliver the highest rate of return on
our stockholder’s investment.”
“Dale, you mentioned customers, yourselves, stockholders, but what
about suppliers? Are you going to treat suppliers dishonestly?”
“It wouldn’t make sense to,” Dale responded.
“Why’s that?” asked Frank.
“Well, our suppliers should be chosen because they make us look good.
They should be the suppliers that deliver the highest-quality products,
when we need them, and at the lowest cost of ownership.”
“Very good Dale. We’ll talk later about the total cost of ­ownership,
or TCO, but for right now, we want to ponder how we’ll treat our ­suppliers.
Here’s why it’s important. The mission is totally silent on the subject, at least
it doesn’t say anything overtly about it, so we’re left to infer whether it is
intended that suppliers be included, and just not spoken to. Any thoughts?”
Flo raised her hand.
“Yes, Flo.”
20 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“It doesn’t say anything about customers, either. We’ve assumed that.
So, to your point, I think we need to infer that we mean everyone, that we’ll
treat everyone with uncompromising integrity.”
“Thanks, Flo. Excellent points. So, Justine, do you think that we should
treat our own employees with integrity, or does the mission only address
outsiders?”
Justine smiled at the setup. “Frank, I think the mission says just what Flo
said: we’ll treat everyone with integrity.”
Frank smiled. “Thanks Justine.” Frank wrote the word EVERYONE on
the flip chart that already had the word MISSION underlined at its top.
“OK, then let’s examine the word integrity. What does that mean? Let’s
see, who haven’t I heard from? Carlos. When you hear the word integrity,
what do you hear? What does it mean?”
Carlos looked stumped. “Well,” he began, “for sure it means honesty,
but I sense there’s more, like having strong morals.”
“It could also mean that we’ll act as one, be seamless in our approach,
that there won’t be some of us that act one way, while others act another
way,” Justine added. “And,” she ran on, “it’s not an either/or statement.
I’m not suggesting that we use a different interpretation than what Carlos
gave, but that both interpretations apply.”
Justine’s comment started a dialog and it was full blown when Frank
interrupted.
“Integrity,” he began, “is really a value, isn’t it?”
Everyone nodded.
“So, does that mean that we take the word integrity out of the mission
statement, or do embedded values add richness and depth to our mission
statement?”
Frank let the question hang while he went to the flip chart, tore off
the MISSION page and stuck it to the wall. On the next page he wrote the
word VALUES, and below it, wrote the word INTEGRITY.
“Flo,” he said, “Would you mind reading your values statement?”
Flo began, “We will conduct our business in accordance with the
­following values:”

• Honesty
• Integrity
• Transparency
• Respect
• Fairness
 Day 2 • 21

As Flo read, Frank copied each word onto the flip chart.
“Thank you, Flo.”
Frank returned to the flip chart and wrote:

• Safety
• Quality
• Schedule
• Cost

“I wrote these words up here because at a bare minimum, you’ll need a

metric for each of these when we finish. These are the core metrics for any
business.”
Carlos raised his hand. “Why safety?” he asked Frank.
“Good question, Carlos. Let me ask you,” Frank swept his hand
around the table. “What happens when you don’t provide a safe work
environment?”
“People could get hurt,” said Gus, making it clear with his tone that he
was stating the obvious.
“Thanks, Gus. And what happens when you let your people get hurt?”
Frank asked, addressing the whole group again. “Can they trust you to
take care of their other needs, if they can’t trust you to take care of them
physically? And what happens when one of your employees, with specialty
skills, gets hurt and can’t perform their job?”
“Xin loi,” said Gus.
“Gus, my Vietnamese is a little rusty, but my recollection is that means
‘tough luck’ or ‘those are the breaks,’ is that about right?”
“Yup,” Gus stated flatly, almost defiantly.
“Is that how you all feel?”
There was silence. “Well then,” Frank said, turning to me, “I guess we’re
finished here.” He started to pack up.
“Gus, what the hell’s wrong with you?” I barked. “And the rest of you,
are you going to sit there silently and accept that as a summation of how we
treat our employees? If so, I don’t need any of you.”
I could feel that my face was flushed and it was clear that I was furious.
I turned to Frank. “Stay! Let me tell you how we feel about all our
­employees. Each one has a family and we want them to return home
to their loved ones every night in the same condition they arrived here
that m­ orning. The loss of any one diminishes our ability to meet our
­commitments and our character as an organization.”
22 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“I want to go around the table and ask each of you whether you agree or
disagree with what I just said.”
Ignoring Gus, I went around the table asking each member of my staff
whether they agreed or disagreed with my statement. All agreed.
“Gus,” I said, glaring at my operations director, “I don’t care what beef
you have with consultants or with me, but I don’t expect to have you try a
stunt like that again. Are we clear?”
Gus kept his eyes down, but grunted his agreement.
“I’m sorry,” I persisted, “I didn’t hear you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Gus replied.
Turning to Frank, I said, “I think we need a break. Would 15 minutes
be OK?”
Frank nodded and I slid my chair away from the table and went into my
office, closing the door behind me.
“What the hell?” I said out loud to the window.
I grabbed my sports coat off the back of my door and almost knocked
Carlos down as I left the office headed outside. I took a brisk walk
around the plant to work off the adrenaline. What had gotten into Gus?
I knew Gus had a low opinion of consultants, but also knew damned
well that Gus was very protective of his employees. “What the hell?”
I asked again.
By the time I got back to the front door, I only had enough time to hang
my sports coat back up and get into the conference room. I avoided eye
contact.
Frank started up. “Before the break, I was making a point. If your
employees can’t trust you to take care of them physically, they can’t trust
you at all. They’d only be here for the paycheck. Not only will they not take
the calculated risks that Lean will require, they will leave you the moment
they get a better offer. Clearly, that’s not a condition you want, so safety
needs to head your list of metrics.”
“Let’s get back to your mission statement. I was asking if it covered the
four critical metrics of safety, quality, schedule, and cost. What are your
thoughts, Hank? We haven’t heard from you.”
“Although a bit obtuse, I think we address quality and schedule in the
statement about providing ‘flawless components and assemblies in a timely
­fashion.’ I read that as saying that we intend to provide products without
defects and to do so when the customer needs them. So, yes, I think we
address those two.”
 Day 2 • 23

“As for cost,” Hank continued, “I see it as implied by the statement that
we’ll provide ‘the highest return on stockholder equity.’ Again, not overt
as you’d say, but I believe it’s in there.”
“OK,” Frank concluded, “your mission statement covers the basics,
with the exception of safety. Would you agree?”
They nodded their heads around the table. “How do we want to address
safety, then?” Frank asked.
Justine raised her hand. Frank nodded at her. “I’d suggest that we insert
the words ‘safe work environment’ into the existing statement between the
words ‘provide’ and ‘flawless.’”
Frank went to his laptop and copied the mission slide already there onto
another slide. He then made the modifications that Justine suggested to
the copy.
“Anyone else?” he asked.
There were no additional suggestions.
“OK, I need your votes. I’m going to go around the room. If you like
what Justine has recommended, say so. If not, say so. If you have another
modification, kindly offer it.” With that, he went person by ­person around
the room. To a person, they accepted Justine’s modification.
“OK, Justine, your modification is now incorporated in the mission
statement.”
“Let me ask you,” Frank continued. “Do you really intend to provide the
highest return on owner equity? If you follow that logic, you would convert
all profit into dividends. That would mean that you wouldn’t retain money
for R&D, you wouldn’t set aside money for capital improvements, and at
the extreme, you would make your employees bring in their own supplies
with which to conduct business. Are you prepared to go to those extremes?”
That question incited a great deal of dialog. There was a general agree-
ment that R&D and capital improvements were critical to ongoing
­operations and future growth.
That discussion was followed by a debate about how much of our profit
we should make available for shareholder dividends. There were discus-
sions of exact percentages, but the point was raised that in a year of meager
profits, there might be a need to convert all profit to capital improvement,
so a strict percentage of profit made no sense. Finally, Flo suggested that
the words “the highest” be replaced with the words “an excellent.”
Frank copied the revised version of the mission statement onto a new
slide and replaced the appropriate words.
24 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“So,” he said, “your new mission statement would read:”

The mission of Friedman Electronics is to provide a safe work e­ nvironment,

flawless components and assemblies in a timely fashion. We will do this
while maintaining uncompromising integrity and an excellent return on
stockholder equity.

There was more discussion about the syntax of the new statement.
Frank simply followed the discussion, not interjecting anything of his own.
“Look,” Hank finally interrupted. “Add the words ‘as well as’ between
the words ‘environment’ and ‘flawless.’”
Frank copied the latest version of the mission statement and inserted
the recommended words. “So, the mission statement would read like this,”
Frank said, pointing to the screen.

The mission of Friedman Electronics is to provide a safe work e­ nvironment,

as well as flawless components and assemblies, in a timely fashion. We will
do this while maintaining uncompromising integrity and an excellent
return on stockholder equity.

“What do you think?” Frank asked.

There were head nods around the table, but Frank went person by
­person, getting their individual opinions. Everyone agreed to the new version.
“OK, this is your new mission statement.” Frank pulled a thumb drive
from his pocket and inserted it into his laptop. He copied the new mission
slide as a PowerPoint file and saved it to the drive. Turning to me he asked,
“Jim, could you have Margaret print copies of this for everyone?”
I returned a few minutes later and handed out the new copies.
“That’s it for phase one. We now have agreement on your mission
statement.”
“Let’s take a 15-minute break. It’s 10:45. Be back at 11:00, please.”
Folks shuffled out. Frank left to find a restroom, then more coffee.
He returned to his flip charts and began making additional notes.
At 10:58 the crew started assembling. The last straggled in around at
11:04. Frank had been making notes.
“Some of you were late. I’m not going to ask you why, but let me just
point out to you that if you were one minute late, you potentially held
the other eight of us up by a minute. In effect, each minute of delay cost
us 8 minutes. You can extend that logic. If you were four minutes late,
you cost us 32 minutes.”
 Day 2 • 25

“Now, look around the table at who you were holding up. Let’s get crazy
and say that the average pay in here is $50 per hour. Multiply that times
the number of minutes you were late, times the number of others in the
meeting, and divide the answer by 60. That’s the amount of the company’s
money you burned while we waited for you.”
“OK, perhaps not a lot, but how would you feel if the company docked
your paycheck that amount every time you were late?”
“Here’s the learning: Respect for one another dictates that you arrive on
time, but if you don’t feel that way, understand that your tardiness costs
money. And one more thing. Time is the one irreplaceable commodity in
business. Once it’s gone, there’s no getting it back.”
“All right, let’s move on. We just finished reviewing your mission
­statement. You probably thought I was making a mountain out of a
­molehill, but you’ll think differently in an hour. For now, we’re going
to review your values and ask the question: ‘Could we accomplish our
­mission statement without this value?’ If the answer is ‘No,’ we’ll have
to find a way to measure your ability to meet that value. Does everyone
understand the task?”
There was general nodding and a few “Yes” responses.
“Let’s go back over your values. Flo?”
Flo began to read:

• Honesty
• Integrity
• Transparency
• Respect
• Fairness

“Thank you, Flo. OK, can you meet your mission without honesty, Phil?”
Phil said, “No, Frank. We can’t achieve ‘uncompromising integrity’
if we lack honesty.”
“Good point, Phil. Anyone else?”
There were no other comments.
“Next,” Frank read aloud, “Integrity. What do you think? Can we agree
we’ve already got this one covered?”
There was general ascent.
“What about transparency?”
Justine raised her hand.
“Justine?”
26 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“I think you can meet your mission without transparency. I mean,

let’s face it, most organizations do.”
“I’d agree,” Hank chimed in.
“Does everyone agree?” There was head nodding and statements of
agreement. Frank drew a line through the word transparency.
“What about respect?”
“Hell yeah, you can achieve the mission without respect,” Phil stated.
“Agreed?” Frank inquired.
“There was agreement around the table. Frank struck through the word
respect.”
“Fairness?”
“That’s like transparency,” Justine offered. “I mean, you can accomplish
the mission statement, but it would be a sorry organization.”
“I disagree,” Flo offered. “If we aren’t fair, it would be hard to achieve
uncompromising integrity.”
Justine, who was sitting next to Flo, touched the other woman’s wrist and
said, “You’re right, Flo. I was only thinking about shipping our ­product,
not the rest of the mission.”
“OK, I retract my statement,” Justine concluded.
“So,” Frank summarized, “we do need to include fairness, is that right?”
Everyone agreed.
“OK, here’s what we’ve concluded. In addition to the mission statement,
we need to measure honesty and fairness. We could also say integrity,
but it’s already in the mission, right?”
More head nodding.
“Now comes the hard part,” began Frank. “Now we have to agree on
what we’re going to measure.”
“Let’s go back to the mission. Flo, could you read it one more time?”

The mission of Friedman Electronics is to provide a safe work e­ nvironment,

as well as flawless components and assemblies, in a timely fashion. We will
do this while maintaining uncompromising integrity and an excellent
return on stockholder equity.

“Jim, what do you think is the first commitment you make in the ­mission
that you’ll need to track your success against?”
“Safety,” I stated, avoiding eye contact with Gus.
“All right, how will you measure safety?”
“Loss time injuries,” Flo offered.
 Day 2 • 27

“OSHA violations,” Hank interjected.

The room fell silent. “I won’t argue that those are important ­measures,”
Frank stated, “but they’re all trailing or lagging indicators. By that I mean
something has already gone wrong by the time they get measured.
Are there any leading indicators of safety?”
There were blank stares around the table.
“Perhaps I should offer you one to give you a sense of what I’m talking
about.”
“What if you created an audit form? Something that assessed whether you
had trip hazards, pinch hazards, electrocution hazards, repetitive motion
injury hazards, and the like. You could assess each department on a monthly
basis and then add their scores to create a company composite score.”
“You could create a list of requirements regarding the scores and hold
each department accountable for eliminating hazards within a reasonable
period of time, which you’d establish in advance—say, 72 hours. That way,
you’d be driving the right behaviors before someone was actually hurt.”
“Did you follow all that?” Frank asked looking at Carlos and Phil?
They both nodded that they had.
“OK, we’ve got a potential way to measure safety as a leading indicator.
What do you think about that?”
“If we can do it,” said Hank, “it sounds like a great way to drive down
both our OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration)
­violations and lost time injuries (LTI). I’m for it.”
“Who owns those two metrics now?” Frank queried.
“I own OSHA,” said Hank, “and Flo owns LTI.”
“Could you stop measuring those?” Frank asked.
Both Hank and Flo wagged their heads in the negative.
“However,” Frank started again, “can you see how you could track
the effect that improving your leading indicator has on your trailing
indicators?”
Both nodded their heads in the affirmative.
“Can anyone else think of another way to provide a leading indicator of
safety?”
No one spoke.
“Then,” Frank said, writing on the flip chart, “Safety = sum of individual
departmental audit scores. You do want to measure by department, don’t
you?” he asked.
All agreed.
“What’s next?” Frank asked the group.
28 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“Flawless components,” said Carlos.

“The mission says components and assemblies,” countered Phil.
“But we buy components, we make assemblies,” Carlos retorted.
“What do you sell?” Frank asked.
“Both,” Carlos acknowledged.
“Well then, your first obligation is to your customer, right?” Both men
nodded.
“Can we agree that we’re talking about quality as an absence of defects?”
asked Frank. They could. “So, how would you know how your customers
measure flawless quality?”
“Complaints,” muttered Gus. It was the first time he’d spoken since my
outburst.
“Anything else?” asked Frank.
“Field returns,” supplied Gus.
“Good Gus. Now, are those leading or lagging indicators?”
“Lagging.”
“Can you stop there?”
“No, we’d want to find a way to measure quality within the plant.”
“And I’ll bet you already do that, right?” asked Frank.
“First pass yield (FPY) and inspection scores at various manufacturing
and assembly points,” Gus said.
“Good. Leading or lagging?” asked Frank.
“Leading.”
“Closer to what we want?”
“Yup.”
Frank went to the flip chart. He drew a vertical line dividing the ­metrics
page into two columns. Above one he wrote the word Leading and above
the other he wrote Lagging. Next he wrote the word Quality on the far
left of the sheet. On the same line, in the Lagging column, he wrote
Complaints & Field Returns. To its left, in the Leading column, he wrote
FPY & Inspection Scores.
On the next line he wrote Safety. In the Lagging column he wrote OSHA
& LTI. In the Leading column he wrote Composite Audit Scores.
“Good!” declared Frank. “We’re not ready for it yet, but I want to tell you
about one more leading indicator that’s even closer to preventing you from
making mistakes in the first place. It’s called Statistical Process Control,
or SPC for short, and it measures the ongoing quality of your processes
and statistically predicts when you’re about to make bad product, thus
­allowing you to shut down before you do.”
 Day 2 • 29

“Then there’s a Lean tool called Poka Yoke. Poka Yoke translates from
Japanese—”
Before Frank could finish the sentence, Dale interjected “mistake
proofing.”
“Very good, Dale. You’ll note Dale didn’t say fool proofing, because that
would imply that you employed fools, which you don’t.
“But those are for later in the transformation.”
At that point, Margaret wheeled in a lunch cart which she unloaded
onto the credenza, removing the remains of the bagels, lox, and fruit.
“Let’s tackle one more, then we’ll take a break for lunch.”
“Earlier, Carlos spoke about flawless components. Care to explain why?”
“Well, at the time, I thought we were talking about the quality of
­purchased parts. But I now realize that we were talking about the quality
of what we ship,” said Carlos.
“Good point, Carlos. Is there any correlation between purchased
­components and your own products?”
“Well, yeah. It’s the old axiom of GIGO: garbage in; garbage out.”
“Great, Carlos. For the rest of you who haven’t spent as much time
­thinking about that relationship as Carlos, Gus, and Jim, your own ­product
is slave to the quality of the products you purchase. If you ­purchase low-
quality components, your product can never be any better than the q ­ uality
of your worst component. It doesn’t matter how hard you work or how
diligent you are.”
“Now, the quality of your raw material is critical, but it is not a metric
for this level.”
“Wait!” I interjected. “We’re not going to measure the quality of incom-
ing material?”
“I didn’t say that,” responded Frank. “What I said is that we won’t
­measure it at the Lean Council level. Which leads me to interject—those
seated around the table will henceforth be known as the Lean Council,
among your other titles. You will both set the tone for your company’s
transformation to a Lean culture, and lead its execution.”
“Any questions about that?” Frank asked. There were none.
“All right. Enough for now. Let’s eat.”
As others lined up for the meal, I talked to Frank. “How do you think it’s
going so far?” I asked Frank.
“Swimmingly.”
“Wish I had your sense of optimism. I’m afraid Gus’s behavior this
morning has put me in a funk.”
30 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

“Actually, I thought you handled that well,” Frank said. “I’m sorry it
put you in a sour mood, but I think you made it clear to all how c­ ritical
this initiative is. No one but you could have done that. I was going to
­compliment you.”
I was uneasy with the compliment. “Sorry, Frank, I don’t often lose my
temper and I hated doing it with Gus. He does a great job, but has a bad
attitude toward consultants and anything he’d call ‘touchy feely.’”
“Well,” Frank interjected, “Gus’s comments about quality were spot on
and he clearly understands what’s going on. I wouldn’t discount the effect
you had on him this morning. I think you may well have set him up for
success.”
“Thanks, Frank. That’s kind of you to say. I’d like for the whole team to
succeed.”
“I know you would,” Frank replied patting my shoulder. “Let’s grab
something to eat.”
6
Metrics and More

At 12:20 p.m., Frank stood and placed his paper plate in the trash. That
signaled an end to lunch.
“Let’s take another 10 minutes to use restrooms and be back in here by
12:30,” he said pointing to the wall clock.
Everyone was back in their seats by 12:30 this time. Frank shot me a
glance as if to say, “See the difference?”
I smiled back at him. I have to say, my mood had lifted.
The rest of the afternoon we continued working on the metrics that
would signal whether we were meeting our mission. By the end, Frank
had filled out the metrics sheet.

Metric Leading Responsible Lagging Responsible

Safety Audit scores Carlos OSHA & LTI Flo
Quality FPY & Gus Complaints Hank
Inspection & Returns
Schedule % on-time to Dale Complaints Carlos
customer
requirement
Cost Daily Labor $ Carlos, Phil COGS Phil
plus RM cost
Integrity/Honesty/ Employee Justine % Turnover Flo
Fairness survey

Frank had made notes to the side that gave the definition of each of the
abbreviations he’d used:

OSHA = Occupational Safety and Health Administration

LTI = lost time injuries
FPY = first pass yield

31
32 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

CT = cycle time (amount of time it takes to make one of anything)

RM = raw materials (purchased manufacturing materials of any type)
COGS = cost of goods sold (total inventory costs of goods sold during
a particular period, which the Lean Council established to be the
previous fiscal month)

The Lean Council had agreed that the leading indicator for cost would
consist of the total of all manufacturing and assembly hours spent each
day, plus the total cost of RM consumed that day, divided by the products
shipped that day. This, they said, would be a close approximation of actual
costs incurred each day.
Frank asked Phil if he had a way of measuring the leading indicator
of cost.
“At present? Heck no,” replied Phil. “Can we? Maybe, but that’s more
Gus’s bailiwick. Right now I’ve got my hands full with month-end and
end of quarter.”
Dale looked at Gus. “Actually, it’s something I can help you with. Could
you give me access to the labor and material files?” Dale asked, turning
to Phil.
“Sorry, my friend. No can do. I can’t have you tinkering with folks’ pay
rates and supplier invoices and our invoices to customers.”
Frank looked at me while saying, “So, Phil, let me get this straight. You
can but won’t help develop this daily number, and, you won’t give anyone
else access to the data so they can do it? Does that about summarize your
position?”
Phil turned to me as well and said, “Jim, you need to understand, I’ve got
a small staff and keeping up with this data would consume them. I hope
I made it clear why I can’t let other people go mucking around in that data.”
I frowned. “Actually, Phil, I can see you making an argument for one
or the other, but not both. I’m not a computer genius by any means, but
I know enough to know that you could write a program that could p ­ roduce
this figure on a daily basis with minimal oversight.”
“So, I’ll let you make the choice. Do you pay one of your people some
overtime to write the program on a one-time basis, or do you give access
to someone else who will?”
Phil hung his head and said, “I’ll do it.”
I looked at Frank. “OK, can we move on?”
“Last step for today is to define who will do what by when. We’ve got
all the responsible parties filled in, but not when the metric will begin
 Metrics and More • 33

being reported. Let’s go back through the list and I’ll write the dates in
as we go.”
“Let’s start with audit scores. Carlos, before I leave this week, I’ll give
you an electronic format for an audit. You’ll need to meet with a team who
will help you develop the audit that you’ll use. How soon before you can
get me an electronic copy?”
Carlos looked at his cell phone to consult its calendar. “By the 17th,” he
responded.
“OK, and how soon before you can conduct an audit on every depart-
ment?” asked Frank.
Frank stopped. “Flo, have you had lost time injuries for office workers?”
“Several,” she said.
“Carlos, you’ll need to audit all departments, not just manufacturing.
You may want to train a team of auditors and rotate the department each
is responsible for auditing. How soon before you can get that done?”
“I’d say the first of next month.”
“OK, Carlos. Everybody OK with that date?” No one spoke.
“Good. Next. Flo, how soon before you can report on OSHA and loss
time injuries?”
“Immediately,” she stated.
“Would you object if I recorded it as the 3rd? That’s tomorrow.”
“No, that would be fine.”
“Done. Let’s see. Gus, you’re next. How about first pass yield and
inspection?”
“We keep ongoing records of FPY,” said Gus. “So I can do that by
­tomorrow. Inspection’s a little tougher. We’re going to have to get our
heads together and figure out which inspection stations we’re going to
include, so we don’t double count defects. By the time I meet with my
folks, decide which reports to include and what form we’re going to use to
report the composite, it will be next week, say the 10th.”
“Gus,” Frank began, “You know what I like about the way you set the
dates?”
The other man shook his head to indicate he did not. Turning to the
rest of us, Frank said, “Gus didn’t choose end-of-week or end-of-month
dates. Actually, no one has so far. That’s a great accolade to all of you.
There’s often a temptation to put things off by padding the amount of time
it will actually take. That’s usually done by choosing end-of-week or end-
of-month dates. Great job, everyone, in resisting that temptation.”
“Let’s see,” continued Frank, “complaints and returns.”
34 • Sustainable Lean: The Story of a Cultural Transformation

Justine spoke up. “I keep those records. I’ll turn them over to Hank
every week.” Turning to Hank she said, “We generally have them compiled
by Monday for the preceding week.”
Frank asked Hank, “Do you want to report last week’s? If so, I’ll put you
down for tomorrow.”
“Actually,” Hank began, “I’d be grateful if I could turn them in on the
4th. It’s my 10-year-old’s birthday tonight.”
“Congratulations. The 4th it is.”
“Dale, looks like the next one is yours.”
“Frank, I’m pretty sure Carlos already tracks that. If so, you can put me
down for the 3rd.”
“He’s right,” said Carlos. “I’ll get them to you when we break up tonight,
Dale.”
“Justine?”
“I keep a log of all complaints. I’ll start summarizing them in weekly
buckets and begin reporting by tomorrow.”
“Good work.”
“Phil, daily labor dollars plus raw material cost.”
Phil was quiet. His head was down and he was wagging it from side
to side. When he looked up, you could read the frustration in his eyes.
“We have to close the books by the 10th. How about the 24th?”
Frank went to the chart, about to write the 24th, but I stopped him.
“Phil, do you need to do this personally? Can’t you delegate it?”
“Fine, make it the 17th,” he said in disgust.
“Wait a second,” I started. “Why the problem?”
“I tried to tell you. I’m up to my eyeballs in closing and a bunch of
­corporate projects. I didn’t plan on spending my whole week in here and
I just don’t need this right now.” He looked up with a forced smile, “but I’ll
do it,” he stated with derisive enthusiasm.
“Let’s take this offline. Frank, leave it at the 24th for now.”
“COGS?” Frank asked.
“If you want it for this month, the figures will be available on the 11th.”
“Jim, do you want to start with this month or last?” Frank asked.
“Last month,” I replied.
“Fine, make it the 3rd,” Phil said.
Frank wrote the 3rd on the chart.
“Justine,” he started, “the employee survey is not going to be
­something off the shelf. I’m going to send you a copy of one I frequently
use. I’d ­recommend that you, Flo, and some folks at the next layer of
 Metrics and More • 35

the ­organization, whose counsel you trust, get together and modify my
form to meet your needs.”
“You’ll have an electronic copy of mine tonight. How long do you think
it will take to revise it?”
“Oh boy, Frank.” Justine looked at Flo. “Three weeks?”
“I’d like to tell you two,” commented Flo, “but I think that’s way too
ambitious. Then we’re going to have to actually conduct the survey.”
Turning to Frank, Flo asked, “Do you have people complete the survey
online or on paper?”
“Neither,” responded Frank. “This is one of the first times you will be
­signaling that something is different. You’re going to do that by having each
employee personally interviewed. I’d recommend that you keep your cadre
of surveyors small so that you can keep the responses as c­ onsistent as p­ ossible,
because they are going to be writing a narrative of each response. You’d
like them to use the same words to describe the same condition as much as
­possible. So, you should plan on this taking 10–15 minutes per employee.”
Flo looked back at Justine. “We’ve got about 585 employees over three
shifts. If we trained four people on the first shift and two on the other two
shifts ….”
Justine pulled a calculator from her purse. “I get that it will take
8 ­surveyors about 914 minutes each. There are 480 minutes in a day ….”
Frank held up his hand to stop Justine. “Make sure to factor out breaks,
lunch, cleanup and any other time they aren’t working.”
“Good point,” she said. “OK, let’s just say it will take us four days to
conduct the survey and tally the findings. Will that work?” she asked Flo.
“I think so. Would it be OK if we gave ourselves five?”
Justine smiled. “I guess it’s the salesperson in me. I get a little aggressive
in setting goals.”
“And don’t stop,” I told her with a broad smile.
Justine looked at Flo. “Should we say the 2nd of next month?”
“I hate to,” said Flo, “but there’s a lot to do. Jim,” Flo asked, turning to
me, “could you live with this time next month?”
I thought for a second. “Flo, I know I’m asking a lot, but can you make
it by the end of the month?”
She looked at Justine. “You already know I’m too aggressive for my own
good, but I think we can do it. If you want my input I say ‘go for it.’”
“OK, Frank,” Flo summarized. “We’ll take the end of the month for 500
points.”
We all got a chuckle.
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
 Die Klassenprüfung.
enn das Maturitätsexamen dem Gymnasiasten ernst und
bedeutsam erscheint, so raubt ihm die Klassenprüfung den
Gleichmut nur in Ausnahmefällen. Es gibt allerdings eine Sorte von
ganz besonders ehrgeizigen oder ganz besonders unwissenden
Schülern, die auch der Klassenprüfung mit einer gewissen
Bänglichkeit entgegenwandeln: aber sie bilden die Minorität. Für
mich und meine nächsten Freunde war dieses ein- oder zweimal im
Jahre wiederkehrende Examen allezeit ein Gaudium, und je
zahlreicher sich das Publikum versammelte, um so vergnüglicher
pflegten wir dreinzuschauen.
Das Klassenexamen ist die Farce des Gymnasiallebens. In corona
civium liebt es kein Lehrer, seine Schüler als unwissend
bloßzustellen. Denn der Vorwurf dieser Unwissenheit träfe in erster
Linie ihn selbst. Daher wir denn regelmäßig über solche Materien
examiniert wurden, die während der letzten Wochen bis zum
Überdruß zerkaut und verdaut waren.
Wir erschienen beim Beginn des Examens sehr pünktlich, – in
unsern besten Kleidern, – und getragen von jener
Feiertagsstimmung, die aus dem Bewußtsein der bevorstehenden
Ferien erwächst. So nahmen wir auf den Subsellien im großen Saale
Platz, an dessen Eingang der Pedell Quaddler in schwarzem Frack
und weißer Halsbinde Posto gefaßt hatte. Nach und nach erschienen
die Lehrer, stets in schmunzelndem Zwiegespräch, sich wiederholt
Herr Kollege nennend und eine ähnliche Befriedigung zur Schau
tragend wie die Schüler. Zuletzt nahte würdevollen Schrittes der
Direktor Samuel Heinzerling, ganz Wohlwollen, ganz Frühling und
Sonnenschein. Ehrfurchtsvoll traten die übrigen Pädagogen nach
rechts und links auseinander, um ihren Herrn und Meister
hindurchzulassen. Mit vollendeter Humanität teilte Samuel seine
kollegialischen Grüße aus: die Schüler aber mußten sich bei seinem
Erscheinen von ihren Sitzen erheben, eine Höflichkeitsbezeigung, für
die Samuel stets durch heftiges Abwinken dankte.
Der Religionslehrer bestieg nunmehr den Katheder, faltete die
Hände und sprach:
»Lasset uns beten!«
Abermals stand die Klasse auf wie ein Mann, und Samuel
Heinzerling blickte wohlgefällig auf diese Kolonnen, die ihn und den
Herrn der Heerscharen durch eine so ehrfurchtsvolle Behandlung
auszeichneten.
Der Religionslehrer sprach sein Gebet und bat den Allmächtigen,
er möge unsern Eingang und unsern Ausgang segnen. Hierauf
begann das Examen.
Eine halbe Stunde verstrich, ohne daß uns das Publikum irgend
einen Vertreter gesandt hätte. Da endlich knarrte die Tür. Aller
Augen wandten sich nach der Schwelle: es erschien der
Superintendent Samson, der sich in ganz ungewöhnlichem Maße für
die geistige Entwicklung der Jugend interessierte. Verbindlich
lächelnd drückte er einem Lehrer nach dem andern die Hand, – aber
ganz sachte und insgeheim, um ja nicht zu stören. Dann folgte er
mit reger Aufmerksamkeit den Peripetien der Prüfung, öfters mit
dem Kopfe nickend und stets so schlau dreinschauend, als ob er
wirklich imstande sei, die gestellten Fragen korrekt zu beantworten.
Nach dem Superintendenten erschien der erste Stadtprediger, und
dann füllten sich die Hallen so allgemach, bis um elf Uhr der
Höhepunkt eintrat.
Ein beträchtliches Kontingent zu diesen Vormittagsbesuchern
lieferten die Gymnasiasten selbst, und zwar wohnten die Schüler der
unteren Klassen mit Vorliebe den Prüfungen der oberen bei, so daß
die Sextaner niemals so zahlreich vertreten waren, als wenn die
Prima examiniert wurde.
Des Nachmittags bot der Saal einen weit pittoreskeren Anblick,
denn jetzt erschienen auch die Mütter und Schwestern der
Examinanden. Der Anblick farbenprächtiger Roben und wallender
Hutbänder war in diesen Räumen etwas so Ungewohntes, daß wir
bei dem Erscheinen der ersten Dame jedesmal in einen Zustand
herzklopfender Aufregung gerieten, zumal wenn die Dame jung und
hübsch war. Das Rauschen ihres Gewandes tönte uns lieblicher als
Musik, und die kleinen, zierlichen Halbstiefelchen klappten so ganz
anders auf den Dielen des Saales als die kolossalen Gehwerkzeuge
Doktor Hellwigs.
Samuel Heinzerling war bei diesen Anlässen von einer
musterhaften Galanterie. Jeder Zoll seines Wesens atmete
Wohlwollen und Ritterlichkeit, wenn er die gnädige Frau oder das
verehrte Fräulein nach dem Stuhle geleitete. Nur die Backfische im
Alter von 13 bis 15 Jahren behandelte er etwas kühler, denn er
wußte, daß gerade diese Sorte seinen Schülern am gefährlichsten
war.
Gegen vier Uhr nachmittags hatte sich der Damenflor, der unsere
Prüfung schmückte, am reichsten entfaltet. Gar mancher von uns
erblickte da auf bescheidenem Rohrstuhle den »Stern seines
Lebens«, die »Rose, vom Himmelstau gebadet«, den »Engel, zu gut
für diese lieblos rauhe Welt«. Besonders zart organisierte Schüler
kamen aus dem Erröten gar nicht heraus; die Mädchen aber
steckten die Köpfe zusammen, – und was sie insgeheim miteinander
schwatzten, betraf gewiß nicht die Sprachgebräuche des Xenophon.
Während der Nachmittagsprüfung waren wir selbstverständlich
weit weniger aufmerksam als des Vormittags. Die Lehrer wußten
sehr wohl, daß sie diese rückgängige Bewegung unseres Interesses
dem Einflusse des Ewig-Weiblichen zuschreiben mußten. Daher sie
denn jetzt vorzugsweise solche Schüler examinierten, die ihnen als
erotisch unempfänglich bekannt waren. Es ist wunderbar, wie fein
der Instinkt der Lehrer hier das Richtige trifft. In jeder Klasse sind
immer drei, vier, fünf exemplarische Jünglinge vorhanden, die ein so
stark entwickeltes Pflichtgefühl oder ein so schwach entwickeltes
Herz besitzen, daß ihnen die Regeln über den griechischen Optativ
ungleich wichtiger sind als der Anblick eines schönen
Mädchengesichts. Diese Unempfänglichen werden in so heiklen
Fällen besonders aufs Korn genommen, wenn es gilt, rasch eine
Querfrage zu beantworten u. dergl. m. Zu einem längeren,
wissenschaftlichen Verhör eignet sich unter Umständen auch der
verliebte Schüler, – wofern er nämlich auf dem Gebiete, das der
Lehrer gewählt hat, sehr sattelfest ist. Es wird ihm alsdann ein
besonderes Vergnügen bereiten, in den Augen seiner Angebeteten
zu brillieren. Den Horaz übersetzend, schleudert er wohlgezielte
Pfeile nach ihrem Herzen. Er beschwört die Lydia, sie möge den
Sybaris nicht vor Liebessehnsucht vergehen lassen, und meint dabei
sich und Volckmanns blonde Therese. Er verdeutscht die Ode: Quem
tu, Melpomene, semel, – und denkt dabei schüchtern an seine
eigenen poetischen Versuche, mit denen er die Auserkorene durch
Vermittlung seiner Schwester oder auf dem Wege einer anonymen
Postsendung heimgesucht. Nickt dann der Superintendent mit
beifällig schmunzelnder Miene, so ist der Gymnasiast stolz auf seinen
errungenen Triumph, und zerstreut lächelnd folgt er der
Aufforderung des Lehrers, sich wieder zu setzen.
Das Klassenexamen ist die einzige Gelegenheit, wo die
Primanerliebe innerhalb der vier Wände des Gymnasiums etwas
freier aufatmet. Die Klassenprüfung ist ihr Sonnenblick. Hier kann
der Lehrer gegen ihre verstohlene Betätigung nichts einwenden.
Noch entsinne ich mich des jauchzenden Entzückens, mit dem mir
einer meiner Freunde, Paul Schuster, am Schluß des Examens um
den Hals fiel, weil diese wenigen Nachmittagsstunden das wieder
aufgebaut hatten, was ihm während des Semesters durch die
Ungunst der Verhältnisse zerstört worden war.
Paul Schuster liebte eine reizende Blondine, namens Elisabeth. Er
besang sie in hundert Liebesliedern. Seine Schwester hatte ihm
zugeredet, und so kopierte er das schönste dieser Gedichte auf
goldgerändertes Briefpapier, schrieb, von hundert seligen Ahnungen
erfüllt, seinen Namen darunter, und barg es in einer zierlichen
Enveloppe, auf deren Siegelstelle eine Taube mit dem biblischen
Ölzweig prangte. Dann setzte er als Adresse die Worte darauf:
»Meiner himmlischen Elisabeth«, und ließ der Holden das Billett
durch seine Schwester mit in die Schule bringen. Am Abend erhielt
er die Nachricht, das Gedicht habe einen ungeheuren Eindruck
gemacht. Elisabeth sei von dem Zauber der wogenden Rhythmen
geradezu hingerissen; nur meine sie, der Dichter habe doch hin und
wieder gar zu schmeichelhaft übertrieben.
Drei Tage später glaubte Paul Schuster zu bemerken, daß der
Direktor Samuel Heinzerling während der Interpretation der Antigone
ihm verschiedene Male einen strafenden Blick zuschleuderte. Das
Schicksal sollte ihn über die Ursache jenes eigentümlichen
Mienenspiels nicht lange in Zweifel lassen. Nach Beendigung der
Lehrstunde entbot ihn Samuel auf sein Zimmer. Verwirrt leistete er
dieser Aufforderung Folge. Wer schildert seine Empfindungen, als er
auf dem Tische des Gymnasialtyrannen sein Billet-doux an Elisabeth
wahrnimmt.
»Schoster,« begann der Direktor, »Professor Gönther föhrt Klage,
Sä belästägen seine Tochter.«
Paul Schuster glaubte bei diesen Worten Samuels in den Boden
versinken zu müssen. Ein jäher Krampf schnürte ihm die Kehle
zusammen.
»Herr Direktor,« stammelte er, »wenn Professor Günther
dergleichen behauptet, so spricht er die Unwahrheit …«
»Wä, Schoster?« fragte Heinzerling mit schneidiger Stimme, »Sä
wollen noch leugnen? Sätzen Sä säch dort einmal auf den Stohl!«
»Aber, Herr Direktor …«
»Sätzen Sä säch! Also Sä haben dä Dreistägkeit, den Herrn
Professor Gönther der Onwahrheit zo bezächtägen! Goot! Sehr goot!
Ond was sagen Sä zo däsem Zettel, den dä Frau Professor än der
Scholtasche ähres Töchterchens gefonden hat? Wollen Sä etwa än
Abrede stellen, daß Sä däsen Wäsch da geschräben haben?«
»Nein, Herr Direktor!«
»Non goot! Äch ontersage Ähnen härmät ein för allemal, däse
onzämlächen Scherze zo wäderholen.«
Er nahm das Blatt zwischen die Finger und rückte die Brille
zurecht.
»Es äst wärklich stark, Schoster!

›Ond schänkte, wenn der Lenz erwacht,

Ein Gott mär allen Blötenflor,
Äch legte gern dä Fröhlingspracht
Als Teppäch Deinen Fößen vor …‹

Begreifen Sä nächt, daß es geradezo onverantwortlich äst, einem

wohlerzogenen Kände solche Albernheiten än den Kopf zo setzen?
Äch dächte, Sä gäben säch vorläufäg noch ein wenig mät Ährem
Sophokles ab.

›Ach, wenn der Sehnsocht holde Glot

Äm täfsten Bosen aufgeflammt …‹

Sehnsocht, Sehnsocht! Sehnen Sä säch nach einem ordentlächen

Matorätätsexamen, ond vertrödeln Sä Ähre Zeit nächt mät solchen
Abgeschmacktheiten. Wenn säch der Mensch erst einmal solche
Alloträa än den Kopf gesetzt hat, dann geht sein wässenschaftlächer
Sänn öber Nacht zo Grabe. Merken Sä säch das!«
Paul war außer sich.
»Herr Direktor,« stöhnte er verzweifelt, »ich glaube bis jetzt noch
keine Veranlassung gegeben zu haben …«
»Das habe äch auch nächt behauptet. Aber dä bästen Schöler
werden äm Handomdrehen leichtsännäg, wenn sä anfangen, säch
mät solch kändäschem Tand abzogeben. Äch habe Sä non gewarnt.«
 Der Direktor entließ ihn. Paul Schuster hielt nur mit Mühe die
Tränen zurück. Er kam sich so erbärmlich, so namenlos lächerlich
vor, daß er zu jedem Entschluß unfähig war. Zu Hause angelangt,
überlegte er. Nach mehrstündigem Hin- und Hersinnen kam er zu
dem Resultat, daß ihm nichts anderes übrig bleibe, als Elisabeths
Vater persönlich aufzusuchen. Trotzig erhobenen Hauptes machte er
sich auf den Weg. Er ward nicht vorgelassen. Was tun? Eine halbe
Minute lang schwankte er, ob er sich nicht mit Gewalt den Weg in
das friedliche Studierzimmer bahnen und im Tone eines beleidigten
Theaterhelden Rechenschaft fordern sollte für die zwiefach
kränkende Unbill. Bald aber gewann die vernünftige Erwägung die
Oberhand. Der eben noch so heroische Primaner zog ab. Wie ein
verschmähter Freier schlich er gesenkten Blickes nach Hause, warf
sich mit geballten Fäusten langwegs auf das Sofa und heulte.
So war das poesiereiche Verhältnis zu Elisabeth meuchlings
zertrümmert worden. Allerhand kleine Mißverständnisse hatten dazu
beigetragen, den Sturz der Ideale zu vervollständigen.
Und nun kam die Klassenprüfung. Elisabeth erschien reizender als
je. Sie nahm in der vordersten Reihe Platz. Zwei Stunden lang
kreuzten sich die Blicke der beiden Liebenden, und dieser stumme
Depeschenwechsel reichte aus, beiden die Gewißheit zu geben, daß
sie »einander noch angehörten«. Am Schluß des Examens erntete
Schuster ein Lächeln, das ihm den letzten Zweifel benahm …
Glücklicher Schuster!
Ich wiederhole es: Das Klassenexamen ist der Lichtblick der
scheuen Primanerliebe!
Doch kehren wir aus dem Speziellen ins Allgemeine zurück, und
erzählen wir den weiteren Normalverlauf der Semesterprüfung.
Am Abend des dritten Tages bestieg Samuel Heinzerling den
Katheder und verkündete die Prämien und die Versetzungen. Ein
feierlicher Moment! Der Direktor wußte denn auch der
Bedeutsamkeit des Augenblicks in jeder Hinsicht gerecht zu werden.
Seine Stimme klang fast wie die Posaune des Jüngsten Gerichts,
wenn er begann:
»Von Onterpräma nach Oberpräma röcken auf:«
Und nun folgte die Liste. Die nicht erwähnten Schüler waren zu
ewiger Verdammnis – ich will sagen, zum Sitzenbleiben für ein
weiteres Semester verurteilt.
Dann fuhr der Direktor fort:
»Prämien erhalten än däser Klasse:«
Und nun folgte das kurze Verzeichnis der wenigen Auserwählten.
Dieses Verzeichnis schrumpfte, je höher man in der Reihe der
Klassen hinaufstieg, immer mehr zusammen. In Prima gab es nur
ganz ausnahmsweise Prämien:
»Dä Prämaner taugen alle nächt väl«, so pflegte Samuel privatim
diese Maßnahme zu motivieren.
Zu Ostern fand am Schlusse der Prüfungen zuweilen ein
sogenannter Aktus statt, bei dem das schöne Geschlecht noch
zahlreicher vertreten war als beim Examen. Gedichte, deutsche und
lateinische Reden, Gesänge und sonstige musikalische Vorträge
waren der Gegenstand dieser nachmittäglichen Feier, an der sich
nicht nur die Schüler, sondern auch die Lehrer aktiv beteiligten. So
entsinne ich mich eines trefflichen Vortrags, den Samuel Heinzerling
über die Wirkung der echten Humanität hielt. Doktor Brömmel, der
Zwillingsvater, sprach wiederholt über die Bevölkerungsverhältnisse
der europäischen Staaten; er wies darauf hin, daß Deutschland das
rivalisierende Frankreich immer mehr zu überflügeln verspreche, eine
Wahrheit, die von Emanuel Boxer mit der malitiösen Bemerkung
begleitet wurde: »Daran ist niemand schuld, als Doktor Brömmel!«
Der »Herr Pastor« ließ sich über das griechische Schisma
vernehmen, ein Thema, von welchem Boxer behauptete, daß es die
anwesenden Damen nur zur Hälfte verstehen würden. Doktor Perner
endlich gab Bilder aus der neueren Literaturgeschichte. Leider waren
meine Gymnasialhumoresken damals noch nicht geschrieben, sonst
würde er sie ohne Zweifel mit Enthusiasmus erwähnt haben.
Gegen sechs Uhr trat man den Heimweg an. Jedermann befand
sich in einer rosigen Stimmung. Nur die Sitzengebliebenen ließen
elegisch die Köpfe hängen und gelobten sich, im neuen Semester
Rache zu üben für die erlittene Kränkung.
»Das habe ich dem Doktor Perner zu danken«, sagte der eine.
»Mich hat der Brömmel ins Verderben geritten! Für das nächste
Jahr wünsche ich ihm Drillinge!«
 Ferien.
egen Schluß des Semesters tritt in der Stimmung des
deutschen Gymnasiasten eine seltsame Wandlung ein. Bis
dahin hat er die Knechtschaft des Stundenzwanges mit jener edlen
Resignation hingenommen, die der Weise einem unabwendbaren
Übel entgegenbringt. Jetzt mit einemmal ergreift ihn ein
selbstbewußter, beinahe trotziger Frohsinn. Noch leistet er den
Befehlen des Lehrers Folge, aber sein Gesichtsausdruck steht mit
dieser äußeren Unterwürfigkeit in schroffem Gegensatze. Auf der
lächelnden Lippe schwebt ein unausgesprochenes Wort, das, ins
Verständliche übertragen, ungefähr also lautet: »Ich gehorche! Ich
stehe unter deiner Botmäßigkeit! Aber der Tag der Befreiung naht
auf Sturmesflügeln! Wenn er erscheint, dann wehe dem Grundgesetz
deiner Herrschaft!« Strafen, die sonst eine niederschmetternde
Wirkung ausgeübt hätten, werden jetzt gleichgültig, ja fast mit
offenem Hohn ertragen: der Skorpion des Absolutismus hat seinen
Stachel verloren.
Wer in der Völker- und Staatengeschichte einigermaßen
bewandert ist, der wird sich erinnern, daß ähnliche Stimmungen von
jeher den Verschwörer am Vorabend der Entscheidung beseelt
haben. Genau so dachte und fühlte der Neger, der unter Toussaints
Führung die Fesseln seiner langjährigen Sklaverei sprengen sollte.
Hätten die Plantagenbesitzer von St. Domingo ein deutsches
Gymnasium besucht, sie wären niemals von den schwarzen
Bataillonen überrumpelt worden. Der deutsche Gymnasiallehrer weiß
nur zu genau, was jener Stimmungswechsel bedeutet. Er weiß, daß
es die Perspektive auf die Ferien ist, die seiner Klasse so rebellisch
die Adern schwellt.
Ferien! Das Wort hat für einen deutschen Gymnasiasten etwas
Zauberisches! Schon viele Wochen im voraus wird bis auf den Tag
und die Stunde berechnet, wie lange man noch auf den harten
Subsellien zu schmachten hat. Die Phantasie eilt der Wirklichkeit in
rauschendem Fluge voraus und bevölkert die Zukunft mit den
beglückendsten Lichtstrahlen. Man entwirft Pläne; man gelobt sich,
die anderthalb Monate diesmal so recht gründlich und nach allen
Richtungen hin auszukosten. Man überläßt sich einer poesievollen
Zerstreutheit, die sich von Woche zu Woche steigert und zuletzt in
die vollendete Träumerei ausartet.
Mir und meinem vielgenannten Freund Wilhelm Rumpf war diese
gesteigerte Spannung so unerträglich, daß wir den Freitag und den
Sonnabend vor dem Beginn der Ferien jedesmal schwänzten. Zur
gewohnten Stunde ergriffen wir unsere Schreibmappen und traten
ins Freie. In dem kleinen Tempel der städtischen Promenade, der zu
dieser Frist völlig verwaist stand, gaben wir uns ein Rendezvous und
beratschlagten, was den Tag über zu beginnen sei. Wenn wir einen
Entschluß gefaßt hatten, stellten wir unsere Uhren mit ängstlicher
Genauigkeit nach der großen Turmuhr der Stadtkirche und verloren
uns dann, halb Kinderspiele, halb Gott im Herzen, seitwärts in die
Felder. Ganz besonders entzückend waren diese illegitimen Ausflüge
am Schluß des Sommersemesters. Eine prächtige Landschaft, die
noch im reichsten Festgewand strahlte, ein tiefblaues
Himmelsgewölbe, und auf allen Hügeln und Hängen ein
überschwenglicher Segen des köstlichen Obstes, – was brauchten
wir mehr, um glücklich zu sein? Die Freude über den wolkenlosen
Septembertag paarte sich mit dem Triumphgefühl über die
gelungene Entweichung. Jauchzend strichen wir durch die einsamen
Nußgärten und füllten uns, dem siebenten Gebote zum Trotz, die
Taschen. Gegen zehn nahmen wir in der nächsten ländlichen
Schenke einen Imbiß, dessen Mangelhaftigkeit durch den Glanz
unserer Gemütsverfassung ersetzt wurde. Eine Stunde später
rüsteten wir uns zum Heimweg. Es galt, rechtzeitig in der Behausung
einzutreffen, denn die Sache sollte den Anschein haben, als kämen
wir direkt aus dem Gymnasium.
Auf diese Weise verbrachten wir den Freitag und den Sonnabend.
Wie Leander die Hero, so besuchten wir die Göttin der Freiheit unter
dem Deckmantel des Geheimnisses … Für kurze Zeit hat dieser
verstohlene Umgang einen unendlichen Reiz: auf die Dauer aber
sehnt man sich nach dem festen Besitz. So hatten wir denn beim
Läuten der Sonntagsglocken gerade genug an dem heimlichen
Raube, und wonnetrunken begrüßten wir unser rechtliches
Eigentum, – die Ferien!
Wer vermöchte zu schildern, was ein deutscher Gymnasiast beim
Beginn der Ferien empfindet! Sechs lange Wochen! Eine Ewigkeit!
Freudig blitzenden Auges und stolz erhobenen Hauptes wandelt man
umher, als ob man die ganze Welt besäße! Und zwar ist dieses
Entzücken um so aufrichtiger und vollständiger, je weiter abwärts wir
uns von der Prima entfernen, – vielleicht nur aus dem Grunde, weil
die Empfindung von der Länge der Zeit mit der fortschreitenden
Entwicklung des Menschen zusammenschrumpft. Dem Quartaner
und Tertianer sind diese sechs Wochen in der Tat ein unbegrenzter
Spielraum: das jugendliche Gemüt überläßt sich der Illusion, die Frist
könne kein Ende nehmen. Der Primaner dagegen hat sich zu oft
schon diese sechs Wochen »von rückwärts betrachtet«; die
Erfahrung hat seinen Idealismus auf ein minder grandioses Maß
reduziert; er weiß die Summe der Genüsse, die ihn erwarten, bereits
annähernd abzuschätzen.
In einem Punkte verwerten die Schüler aller Klassen das
Privilegium der Ferien gleichmäßig: im freien Genusse des
Morgenschlummers. Das Recht, ohne Rücksicht auf eine bestimmte
Stunde in den hellen Tag hineinschlafen zu können, gießt über das
ganze Wesen des deutschen Gymnasiasten einen Schimmer der
rosigsten Verklärung. Wenn er nachts erwacht und sich, behaglich
aufatmend, nach der anderen Seite wendet, so ist das Bewußtsein,
am folgenden Morgen den sonst so verhängnisvollen Schlag der
Glocke überhören zu dürfen, allein ausreichend, um die Ferien mit
dem Gewand eines zauberischen Liebreizes zu umkleiden!
So dämmert der Tag heran. Draußen, in den Zimmern und auf
dem Korridor ist schon alles geschäftig: der glückliche Gymnasiast
rührt sich nicht. Selbst wenn er längst nicht mehr schlafen kann, hält
er noch die Augen geschlossen, bis die Mutter oder die Schwester
ihn, weniger aus Gründen der Moral, als mit Rücksicht auf die
gestörte Hausordnung, weckt. Nun kleidet der Triumphator sich an,
langsam, mit souveräner Verachtung der Zeit, – denn er hat ihrer ja
mehr, als er braucht! Nach eingenommenem Frühstück verläßt er
das Haus: das ist ein unumstößliches Axiom der Ferienpraxis. Je
nach der Verschiedenheit seines Alters und seines Temperaments
verbringt er den Vormittag verschieden. Er streift durch Feld und
Wald, er schlendert Arm in Arm mit seinem Intimus durch die
Gassen, er besucht verstohlenerweise ein Bierhaus und wagt selbst
eine Partie Billard. Der Quartaner und Tertianer gibt sich mit seinen
Altersgenossen in besonders günstig gelegenen Höfen der
Nachbarschaft ein Rendezvous, um zu spielen; er plant tolle Streiche
und verabredet Ausflüge in die weitere Umgebung. Vor Mittagszeit
aber betritt keiner, weder der Schüler von Quarta, noch der
Oberprimaner, die elterliche Wohnung.
Nach Tische treibt sich der Feriengymnasiast zum Leidwesen
seiner Angehörigen in störender Weise auf den Kanapees und
Sesseln herum; trällert ein Lied, worüber seine ältere Schwester
nervös wird; neckt seine jüngeren Brüder; nimmt eine illustrierte
Zeitschrift zur Hand, trotz der wiederholten Versicherung des Vaters,
das sei keine Lektüre für ihn; fragt, ob nicht bald Kaffee getrunken
werde; stemmt seine Stiefel wider die polierten Tischfüße, legt sich
ins Fenster oder verklebt seiner Mutter das Schlüsselloch des
Nähtischchens mit Wachs. Die Aufforderung, er möge etwas
arbeiten, beantwortet er mit einem wohlwollenden Lächeln.
»Erst will ich mich ausruhen«, sagt er, behaglich die Arme
reckend.
 Wenn man das so mit ansieht, man sollte meinen, der Ärmste
habe Monate lang Dienste in einer Tretmühle geleistet.
Der Nachmittag wird, je nach der Jahreszeit, zu Ausflügen in die
umliegenden Bierdörfer, zu Fensterpromenaden, zu Skatpartien, zu
Kahnfahrten und dergleichen benutzt, und der Abend bringt oft nur
eine Fortsetzung des Nachmittags.
Dieses lustige, ungebundene Leben erfährt eine gelinde Trübung
durch den Hinblick auf die Ferienarbeiten, die in einigen Gymnasien
nicht ganz ohne Belang sind.
Ich meinesteils habe meine Pensa stets schon in der ersten Woche
begonnen und so unter der Hand ohne ernstliche Schädigung
meines Wohlgefühles erledigt. Die meisten Schüler warten jedoch bis
zuletzt und verderben sich den Schluß der Ferien von Grund aus. Es
leuchtet ein, daß die von mir befolgte Methode gerade vom
Standpunkt des Epikuräers aus die einzig richtige ist, – auch richtiger
als das andere Extrem, während der ersten Tage alles auf einmal zu
absolvieren.
Unter den Ferienarbeiten, mit denen man uns die Flügel ein wenig
zu binden hoffte, nahm der deutsche Aufsatz einen hervorragenden
Rang ein. Und zwar gab man uns zu wiederholten Malen das Thema:
»Wie verbrachte ich meine Ferien?« Diesen Aufsatz schrieb ich stets
in der ersten Woche, denn die historische Wahrheit gehörte von je
zu den geringsten Verdiensten solcher Arbeiten. Ganz faule und
versumpfte Kameraden, die niemals aus eigenem Antrieb ein Buch in
die Hand nahmen, gaben sich in dem Ferienaufsatz den Anschein,
als hätten sie umfassende Privatstudien im Xenophon und im Curtius
geleistet. Die Lehrer nahmen das merkwürdigerweise stets so
beifällig hin, daß ich als Obersekundaner den Entschluß faßte, dieses
lügnerische Selbstlob einmal auf die Spitze zu treiben. Da war denn
in meinem Aufsatz etwa folgender Passus zu lesen:
»Ich erhob mich des Morgens zwischen vier und fünf, nahm in
aller Eile den Kaffee ein und verfertigte alsdann bis gegen 10 Uhr
lateinische Stilübungen. Hierauf machte ich einen halbstündigen
Spaziergang, um sofort wieder an meine Arbeit zurückzukehren. Ich
las Corneille, Racine, Molière und Chateaubriand, bis ich zu Tische
gerufen wurde, was in der Regel so gegen ein Uhr statthatte. Die
Stunden von zwei bis fünf widmete ich dem Griechischen, der
Geschichte und der Geographie. Hierauf unternahm ich in Begleitung
meines Vaters einen Spaziergang, von dem wir meistens so gegen
halb sieben Uhr zurückkehrten. Um sieben Uhr wurde zu Nacht
gespeist, und nun arbeitete ich von acht bis elf Mathematik, Physik
und Kirchengeschichte. Oft auch habe ich die Mitternacht an meinem
stillen Pulte herangewacht, denn ich hatte mir nun einmal fest
vorgenommen, eine gewisse Summe von Lernstoff zu bewältigen.
Sagt doch schon ein alter Klassiker: ›Wir lernen nicht für die Schule,
sondern für das Leben.‹ Meine Mußestunden benutzte ich dann zur
Lektüre von Goethe, Schiller, Klopstock, Wieland, Herder, Lessing,
Platen, Rückert und Roderich Benedix; auch übersetzte ich viele
Oden des Horaz metrisch ins Deutsche. Des Sonntags besuchte ich
von neun bis elf die Kirche, hielt mich jedoch, um nicht aufzufallen,
meist abseits, weshalb mich die Herren Lehrer ohne Zweifel nur
selten wahrnahmen. Einmal war ich zwei Tage lang in Frankfurt, und
diese in jeder Hinsicht belehrende Reise will ich hier zum
Gegenstand einer ausführlichen Schilderung machen.«
Ich wurde um dieses Aufsatzes willen »wegen Unfugs« mit sechs
Stunden Karzer bestraft und dazu beauftragt, dasselbe Thema noch
einmal, und zwar in jeder Hinsicht wahrheitsgemäß, zu behandeln.
Drei Tage später also reichte ich dem Lehrer eine neue, von der
ersten wesentlich differierende Arbeit ein, die folgenden Passus
enthielt:
»Des Morgens schlief ich bis neun, mitunter sogar bis zehn Uhr.
Denn, sagte ich bei mir selbst, wozu sollst du dich plagen, wenn du's
gut haben kannst? Gearbeitet habe ich nur sehr wenig. Ich erledigte
zwar zur Not meine Pensa: im übrigen aber verspürte ich einen
seltsamen Abscheu gegen jede Tätigkeit. Man lebt nur einmal auf
der Welt, pflegte mein Großonkel Schmidthenner zu sagen. So hielt
ich es denn für zweckmäßig, mir die kurze Freiheit recht zunutze zu
machen. Fast täglich bestand ich mit Wilhelm Rumpf einen
Ringkampf, wobei immer derjenige siegte, der den Untergriff hatte.
Solche Übungen sind in jeder Beziehung praktisch. Ich merkte dies
bei dem Zwist mit dem Gänsehirten von Wieseck. Der Mann wollte
uns ausschimpfen, weil Rumpfs kleiner Pudel ihm die Gänse gejagt
hatte. Wir zerbläuten ihn jämmerlich. Hieraus erhellt, daß der
Jüngling sich nicht früh genug in körperlichen Exerzitien ergehen
kann. Wie sagt schon Horaz? usw. usw.«
In diesem Stile ging es zwölf Seiten lang. Am Schluß meiner
tückischen Abhandlung hatte ich die zwölf Stunden Karzer, die ich
diesmal eroberte, so vollständig verdient, daß ich mich noch jetzt
über die Nachsicht des sonst so leicht erregbaren Lehrers wundere.
»Wie verbrachte ich meine Ferien?«
In der Tat ein trostloses Thema für einen deutschen
Gymnasialschüler, der weder lügen, noch seine Lehrer beleidigen
will!
 Das Maturitätsexamen.
as Wort Examen hat für den Gymnasialschüler je nach
Umständen eine sehr verschiedenartige Klangfarbe. Ernst und
gewichtig tönt es an sein Ohr, wenn es die Abiturientenprüfung
bezeichnet; leicht und harmlos dagegen, wenn es jene Komödie
bedeutet, die sich alljährlich ein- oder zweimal vor dem Beginn der
Ferien wiederholt, mit dem angeblichen Zweck, das Publikum über
die intellektuellen und ethischen Fortschritte der künftigen
Staatsbürger zu unterrichten.
Das Abiturienten- oder Maturitätsexamen ist, streng genommen,
nur eine Form, da die Lehrer in den meisten Fällen vorher wissen,
wer da bestehen und wer durchfallen wird. Es wäre auch sonderbar,
wenn die paar Stunden oder Tage des Examens genauere Auskunft
über den Bildungsgrad eines Schülers ermöglichen sollten, als die
Monate und Jahre des regen persönlichen Verkehrs in der Klasse.
Gleichwohl betritt der Abiturient mit einem seltsamen Zagen den
Prüfungssaal, nicht ahnend, daß sein Schicksal schon vor der ersten
Frage so gut wie entschieden ist. Der Schüler, der sich während
seiner ganzen gymnasiastischen Laufbahn durch die lebhafte
Betätigung eines wissenschaftlichen Sinnes ausgezeichnet und den
Beweis geliefert hat, daß er wirkliche Kenntnisse besitzt, wird selbst
dann nicht durchfallen, wenn er in einer Spezialität
unglücklicherweise alle Fragen schuldig bleibt; viel eher ist der
umgekehrte Fall denkbar, daß ein Ignorant, der sich nur oberflächlich
»eingepaukt« hat, durch eine glückliche Konstellation entschlüpfe. Es
liegt also nicht der geringste Grund zur Aufregung vor; aber die
Tradition und der Instinkt wirken hier mächtiger als die reine
Vernunft.
In dem Gymnasium meiner Vaterstadt Gröningen hatten die
Abiturienten erst ein dreitägiges schriftliches Examen und dann ein
mündliches von etwa sechs Stunden zu leisten. Das schriftliche war
entschieden die Hauptsache. Es bestand aus drei Extemporal-
Aufsätzen, einem deutschen, einem französischen und einem
lateinischen. Die strengste Klausur sonderte uns während dieser
Arbeiten von der Außenwelt ab. Vor Schluß seines Aufsatzes durfte
keiner den Saal und die dazu gehörigen Räumlichkeiten verlassen.
Gegen Mittag lieferte uns der Pedell etwas kalte Küche; den
Angehörigen der Schüler war es nicht gestattet, sich bei dieser
Proviantlieferung zu beteiligen, da es früher mehrfach vorgekommen
war, daß man in Buttersemmeln, Würsten u. dergl. die nötigen
literarischen Hilfsmittel zur Bewältigung der Themata
eingeschmuggelt hatte. Trotz dieser peinlichen Vorsicht gelang es
fast regelmäßig, etwas Verwendbares über die Schwelle zu paschen.
Bei dem Schließen oder Öffnen des Fensters warf man einen Zettel
in den Hof, der das Thema bezeichnete. Treue Freunde, die unten
lauerten, beschafften sofort, was sie an früheren Bearbeitungen
desselben Vorwurfs etc. etc. auftreiben konnten, und legten es im
rechten Moment auf eine gewisse verschwiegene Lokalität, deren
Besuch man uns doch nicht völlig verbieten konnte. Zuweilen gelang
es auch, schon Tags zuvor das Thema ausfindig zu machen, sei es,
daß ein Familienmitglied des Examinators die Sache verriet, sei es,
daß wir listigerweise das Notizbuch des Lehrers durchforschten und
so die nötigen Anhaltspunkte eroberten.
Einmal hatte der Direktor Samuel Heinzerling in Erfahrung
gebracht, der Abiturient Ittmann sei am Abend vor dem Beginn der
Prüfung auf wunderbare Weise in den Besitz des Themas gelangt
und werde des Tags darauf eine Reihe von Manuskripten und
Drucksachen mitbringen, und zwar, um der Möglichkeit einer
Visitation auszuweichen, in seinen Stiefelschäften. Gott weiß, wer
hier den Judas gespielt hatte: genug, Samuel Heinzerling war bis ins
einzelne unterrichtet und beschloß, dem p. p. Ittmann auf eine
möglichst humorvolle Weise zu Leibe zu gehen.
Es war die ganze Zeit über abscheuliche Witterung gewesen. Auch
am Tage des lateinischen Aufsatzes herrschte ein großer Schmutz in
den Straßen. Hierauf gründete Samuel seinen Plan.
Als Ittmann im Saale erschien, trat der Direktor freundlich lächelnd
auf ihn zu und reichte dem überraschten Schüler die Hand.
»Kommen Sä, läber Ättmann,« sagte er schmunzelnd, »äch weiß,
Sä neigen sehr stark zor Erkältong …«
Hiermit führte er den Erstaunten nach dem Ofen, wo ein
Stiefelzieher und zwei Pantoffel standen.
»So, läber Ättmann, äch habe Ähnen da ein paar Pantoffel
besorgt, damit Sä säch ja nächt verderben. Zähen Sä Ähre Stäfel
höbsch aus. Äch bän öberzeugt, Sä haben säch nasse Föße geholt.«
»Sie sind zu gütig, Herr Direktor,« stammelte Ittmann, »aber ich
habe wirklich ganz trockene Füße. Ich danke recht sehr.«
»Es wärd doch besser sein, wenn Sä dä Schohe dort anzähn. Sä
sänd mär än der letzten Zeit wäderholt onwohl gewesen …«
»Das ist ganz vorüber, Herr Direktor. Ich fühle mich jetzt
vollständig frisch.«
»Eben, weil Sä säch fräsch föhlen, sollen Sä säch nächt wäder
erkälten. Machen Sä jetzt keine Omstände; äch meine es goot mät
Ähnen!«
»Ohne Zweifel, Herr Direktor. Ich verspüre aber nicht den
geringsten Anflug von Nässe. Lassen Sie lieber den Schierlitz die
Pantoffel da anziehen: der hat einen viel weiteren Weg als ich.«
»Nein, nein! Der Schärlätz äst eine roboste Nator! Sä allein haben
mär den verflossenen Wänter fortwährend öber Katarrh geklagt.
Jetzt machen Sä mäch nächt ongedoldäg, ond entledägen Sä säch
so rasch wä möglich Ährer Stäfel! Äch befähle es Ähnen!«
 Ittmann war der Verzweiflung nahe. Seine angeborene
Geistesgegenwart half ihm jedoch auch diesmal über die Klippe
hinweg.
»Nun denn, Herr Direktor,« sagte er mit einer artigen Verbeugung,
»so nehme ich dankbar an.«
Mit diesen Worten ergriff er die Pantoffel und den Stiefelzieher und
eilte der Tür zu.
»Wo wollen Sä hän?« rief Samuel Heinzerling.
»Herr Direktor, Sie werden mir zutrauen, daß ich so viel Lebensart
besitze, um meine Stiefel nicht in Ihrer Gegenwart auszuziehen. Ich
verfüge mich da neben ins Konferenzzimmer.«
Samuel Heinzerling trat auf ihn zu, klopfte ihm auf die Schulter
und flüsterte mit einem halbunterdrückten Lächeln:
»Wässen Sä was? Gehn Sä läber nach Hause ond wechseln Sä zo
Haus Ähre Stäfel! Sä haben säch öbrägens goot herausgehauen,
wärkläch, sehr goot! Das moß Ähnen der Neid lassen.«
»Aber, Herr Direktor, ich versichere Sie …«
»Machen Sä, daß Sä fortkommen ond versächern Sä mäch läber
nächts. Äch denke, Sä wässen am besten, wo der Schoh Sä dröckt.
Aber äch sage Ähnen, auf dem Fooß stehen wär nächt mäteinander,
wenn das Examen anfängt! Sä sänd mär ein onreeller Kamerad!
Verstehn Sä mäch?«
»Herr Direktor,« versetzte Ittmann mit einem Blick auf seine
Stiefel, »ich habe heute morgen schon so viel eingesteckt, daß ich
auch diesen Vorwurf einstecken und Sie um dauernde Nachsicht
ersuchen will.«
Samuel Heinzerling lachte.
Ittmann aber eilte nach Hause und erschien diesmal ohne die
Eselsbrücken. Sei es nun, daß das Erlebnis mit Samuel Heinzerling
seinem Geiste eine besondere Elastizität verlieh, sei es, daß der
Direktor ein hervorragendes Wohlwollen entwickelte, kurz, der
Schüler erhielt die Note eins.
Der lateinische Aufsatz, den ich zur Bekundung meiner Reife
verabfolgen mußte, betraf den Kaiser Tiberius.
Ich habe nun bereits in meiner Skizzensammlung »Aus Sekunda
und Prima« hervorgehoben, daß die Weltgeschichte von je meine
schwache Seite gewesen. Von Tiberius insbesondere wußte ich nur
sehr wenig Positives, – etwa, daß er des Kaiser Augustus Nachfolger
gewesen; daß er sich durch Grausamkeit und Willkür ausgezeichnet;
daß er einen Günstling, namens Sejanus, besessen und schließlich
von Macro mit einem Kissen erstickt worden sei. Nun verstand ich es
zwar, solche geringfügige Anhaltspunkte möglichst ausgiebig zu
verwerten: aber das Gold meines Wissens wollte diesmal, noch so
breit geschlagen, nicht ausreichen, um den gewaltigen Raum eines
Abiturientenaufsatzes zu bedecken.
Hier half ich mir nun auf folgende sinnreiche Weise, die ich jedem
Primaner unter gleichen Verhältnissen auf das wärmste empfehlen
möchte. Ich hatte zufällig wenige Tage zuvor eine interessante
Monographie über den Kaiser Augustus gelesen, deren Einzelheiten
mir noch ziemlich treu im Gedächtnis hafteten. So begann ich denn
meinen Aufsatz wie folgt:
»Nach dem Tode des Cäsar Octavianus Augustus bestieg der
tückische, menschenfeindliche Tiberius den Kaiserthron. Es gelang
ihm schon nach kurzer Frist, sich in allen Teilen des Reichs gründlich
verhaßt zu machen, denn er bildete durchweg den schroffsten
Gegensatz zu dem wohlwollenden, gerechten, kunst- und
literaturfreundlichen Augustus. Dieser Kontrast mußte die Antipathie
der Römer noch beschleunigen und vertiefen. Augustus hatte das
und das getan, diese und jene Einrichtung getroffen, so und so die
Verhältnisse des römischen Volkes geregelt; von alledem finden wir
bei Tiberius keine Spur. Augustus und seine Freunde Messala, Pollio
und Mäcenas waren Kenner der griechischen Dichter, deren Werke
man in öffentlichen Bibliotheken sammelte; in der Umgebung des
Tiberius dagegen finden wir weder einen Mäcenas noch einen
Messala noch einen Pollio. Augustus war auch äußerlich eine sehr
angenehme Erscheinung. Ein heiterer Friede ruhte auf seinem
Antlitz. Er machte den Eindruck eines biederen, würdevollen und
geistig bedeutenden Alten. Ganz anders Tiberius, von welchem uns
dergleichen nirgends berichtet wird.«
Auf diese Weise gab ich eine sehr detaillierte Geschichte des
Augustus und fügte nur von Zeit zu Zeit die Bemerkung hinzu, das
sei bei Tiberius anders gewesen.
Nachdem ich so mein Wissen erschöpft hatte, schloß ich wie folgt:
»Leider ist die Zeit bereits zu sehr vorgerückt, als daß es mir noch
möglich wäre, auf die übrigens allbekannten Einzelheiten der so
verhängnisvollen Regierung des Tiberius näher einzugehen.
Erwähnen will ich noch, daß er, wie fast alle Tyrannen, auf
unnatürliche Weise endete. Ja, es gibt eine Nemesis der
Weltgeschichte, deren furchtbares Walten nur der Tor leugnen wird!
Est modus in rebus, sunt certi denique fines!«
Und dann sprach ich noch den üblichen Wunsch aus:
»Spero fore, ut, quae hodie conscripsi, rectori gymnasii
doctissimo, illustrissimo, justissimo mire placeant.«
Meine Hoffnung ging in Erfüllung. Die umfassenden Kenntnisse,
die ich im Punkte des Augustus entwickelt hatte, reichten aus, um
meine tiberianische Unwissenheit zu bemänteln.
Minder glücklich war ein Abiturient namens Glaser, der einen
deutschen Aufsatz über die Völkerwanderung zu schreiben hatte
und, wie Sokrates, nur eins wußte: daß er nichts wußte.
Er begann sein Thema wie folgt:
»Indem ich an die heutige Aufgabe heran trete, erinnere ich mich
der alten Vorschrift, daß der wahre Philosoph niemals über einen
Gegenstand reden darf, ohne ihn des näheren definiert zu haben.
Was heißt Völkerwanderung? Augenscheinlich bedeutet dieser
Ausdruck eine Wanderung von Völkern. Fragen wir nun zunächst:
Was ist ein Volk? so liegt es klar zutage, daß sich dieser Begriff nicht
so in aller Kürze fixieren läßt. Wir müssen daher etwas weiter
ausholen. Schon in den ältesten Zeiten …«
Und nun folgte eine graziös stilisierte Musterkarte historischer
Data, wie sie in dem Kopfe des pfiffigen Schülers nach und nach
hängen geblieben war. Die Ägypter, die Assyrer und Meder spielten
hier eine bedeutsame Rolle. Ein längerer Abschnitt war dem
auserwählten Volk Gottes gewidmet, dem Volk par excellence. Dann
sprach Theophil Glaser von den Volksrechten, von den
verschiedenen Staatsformen usw. usw.
Die Hälfte des Aufsatzes war hiermit zurückgelegt. Der Schüler
fuhr fort:
»Wir kommen nun zu dem zweiten Teile unserer Definition: Was
ist eine Wanderung?« Ein Problem, das er in ähnlicher Weise löste,
wie das des Volkes.
Als er endlich den Begriff der Völkerwanderung glücklich
zusammengesetzt hatte, war die gegebene Frist abgelaufen, und
hastig warf er die heuchlerische Phrase auf das Papier:
»Zu meinem größten Bedauern muß ich hier schließen, denn ich
höre das heisere Metall des Pedellen.«
Theophil Glaser bestand zwar im deutschen Aufsatze »cum
laude«, in der Geschichte aber fiel er trotz seiner glänzenden
Definitionen unwiderruflich durch.
Die Lehrer wollten nicht glauben, daß nur Quaddler daran schuld
war, wenn Glasers Abhandlung des versöhnenden Schlusses
entbehrte.

Druck: J. Neumann, Neudamm.

 Empfehlenswerte Werke.

Für jede Familienbibliothek,

besonders aber für die Hausfrau auf dem Lande.

Sofiensruh.
Wie ich mir das Landleben dachte,
und wie ich es fand.
Von S. Jansen.

Zweite, kürzlich neu erschienene Auflage.

Preis fein geheftet 4 Mk., hochelegant gebunden 5 Mk.
Ein prächtiges, rein aus dem Leben geschöpftes Werk von
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Auflage in noch nicht sieben Monaten vergriffen gewesen ist.
Die Verfasserin, Stadtfrau und in der größten norddeutschen
Handelsstadt angesessen, kauft sich in der Nähe ihrer Heimat ein
kleines Landgut, welches sie selbst mit größtem Verständnis
bewirtschaftet. Ihre wenigen Freuden und die große Zahl der
Sorgen schildert uns die Dichterin nun in einer Form, wie sie
lebenswahrer und doch zum Gemüte sprechender nicht
gedacht werden kann. Wir haben hier eine seltene Perle
moderner Erzählerkunst vor uns und ein Buch, das ein
vorzügliches Festgeschenk, namentlich für unsere
Hausfrauen, genannt zu werden vollauf verdient.
Die Kritik hat sich über »Sofiensruh« durchweg ungemein
anerkennend geäußert. Wir geben folgende Kritikauszüge wieder:
 Der Tag in Berlin. »Ein sehr amüsantes Buch – und
ein sehr nachdenkliches Buch, nachdenklich im Sinne
Fontanes, als etwas, über das man viel nachdenkt. Ich
habe viel dabei gelacht und doch viel dabei gelernt. Mark
Twainisch fängt es an, mit grotesken Zirkusplätzen, und
geht dann doch in den schönen niederdeutschen, etwas
schwermütigen Humor über, den wir an Klaus Groth
und Fritz Reuter so sehr lieben. Und das schönste daran
ist, daß alles, was in dem Buche steht, so gar nicht
erfunden und bloß ausgedacht ist, sondern in jeder Zeile
den unverkennbaren Stempel der erlebtesten Wahrheit
trägt. … Städter und Agrarier sollten diese meistens
grotesk lustigen und doch so bitterernsten Schilderungen
und Erlebnisse genau studieren, die ersteren, um zu
begreifen, unter welchen unerhörten Schwierigkeiten der
Landwirt heute der Natur und seinem Helferpersonal sein
Leben abzuringen hat, die letzteren, um endlich darüber
klar zu werden, daß ohne eine gründliche, an die Wurzel
gehende Umgestaltung des ländlichen Arbeitsverhältnisses
über lang oder kurz jede größere Wirtschaft zugrunde
gehen muß. … In Zolas furchtbarem »La Terre« sind die
Tatsachen eigentlich nicht viel krasser; sie sind eben nur
durch ein bittereres Temperament gesehen. … Wie
gesagt: ein nachdenkliches Buch! Ein sehr nachdenkliches
Buch! Und wird keiner kommen dürfen und sagen, ein
»Hetzer« habe es geschrieben.
Dr. Franz Oppenheimer.«
Das Daheim in Leipzig. »… Es ist ein heiteres und
erfreuendes und zugleich ein trauriges und betrübendes
Buch. Es ist heiter und erfreuend, weil wir in ihm eine
prächtige deutsche Frau kennen lernen, voll
Mutterwitz, gesundem Verstande, Tatkraft und zähem
Wollen, die überdies noch über eine sehr ungewöhnliche
Gabe der Schilderung und der Charakterisierung verfügt.
… Unser Buch ist gerade in seinen Einzelschilderungen
 auch kulturgeschichtlich von großem Wert, es zeigt uns
aber vor allem, unter wie unsagbar schwierigen
Verhältnissen heute vielfach die Landwirtschaft in
Deutschland betrieben wird.
Th. H. Pantenius.«
Gartenlaube in Leipzig. »… Der Titel »Tagebuch« ist
im allgemeinen nicht gerade vertrauenserweckend; es
verbirgt sich gemeinhin zu viel Eitelkeit und
Selbstbespiegelung, zu viel Absicht und Verlogenheit
dahinter. Hier aber ist Wahrheit von Anfang bis zu
Ende, ist Erdgeruch und Eigenart, ein Stück Leben, das
sich in aller Schlichtheit des Empfindens, ohne jede Pose,
offenbart … Und welch goldiger Humor verklärt nicht all
die großen und kleinen Fehlschläge, welche Herzensgüte
und Vornehmheit der Gesinnung offenbart sich nicht darin,
wie diese Frau sich zu den Menschen, zum Leben stellt!
Wahrlich, »ein Frauenbuch«, auf das die
Geschlechtsgenossinnen der Autorin nicht stolz genug sein
können, dessen Lektüre mehr als ein Zeitvertreib, ein gute
Unterhaltung ist! … Möge das schöne Buch vielen zu
einem Freund und Wegweiser werden.«

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A. Kühns. Zwei Bände, 1745 Seiten, 1183 Abbildungen, 10
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Halbleder hochfein gebunden 11 Mk.
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Professor Dr. v. Martens. Zwei Bände, 2222 Seiten, 1455
Abbildungen, 12 Tafeln in Schwarz- und Farbendruck. Preis in
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Weltgeschichte. Von M. Reymond. Zwei Bände, 1672 Seiten, 841
Abbildungen, 16 Bildertafeln und 10 bunte, historische Karten.
Preis in Leinen fein gebunden 18 Mk. In Halbleder hochfein
gebunden 22 Mk.
Kunstgeschichte. Von Professor Dr. Max Schmid. Nebst einem
kurzen Abriß der Geschichte der Musik und Oper,
herausgegeben von Dr. Clarence Sherwood. Ein Band, 842
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Band von etwa 300 Seiten. Das Gesamtregister wird jedem
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Reich illustrierte Probehefte aller Werke werden umsonst und
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Alle Buchhandlungen nehmen Bestellungen entgegen.
 Für Kriegsveteranen, Volksbibliotheken und zu
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Aus großer Zeit.

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Preis hochelegant gebunden 5 Mk.
Die Literatur über Kriegserinnerungen ist nicht gering, aber
auch der Interessentenkreis für solche Werke ist ein großer. Unter
den vielen Büchern dieses Genres nimmt obengenanntes, das erst
im Jahre 1903 erschienen ist, nicht den letzten Platz ein. Die
Kritik nennt es mit Recht ein prächtiges, rein aus dem Leben
geschöpftes Buch für jung und alt! Sein Verfasser ist heute
Direktor des Schiller-Gymnasiums zu Stettin. Nach Ausbruch des
Krieges 1870 machte er sofort das Abiturientenexamen und trat als
Einjährig-Freiwilliger bei den Greifswalder, pommerschen,
zweiten Jägern ein. Nach der Schlacht von Sedan zur Belagerung
von Metz ins Feld geschickt, machte Lehmann diese, die Belagerung
von Paris (Champigny) und die Jagd auf Bourbaki durch das
südöstliche Frankreich mit. – Wir lesen das humorvolle Tagebuch
eines jungen Idealisten, dreißig Jahre später
durchgearbeitet und in seinem Stoff gesichtet von dem
gereiften Manne, mithin ein Werk, dessen Lektüre mehr bietet,
wie die meiste stoffverwandte Literatur, und sich dem alten
Feldzugssoldaten, wie dem Freunde deutscher Geschichte
zum Genuß gestaltet. Auch kulturgeschichtlich, sowohl für
deutsche, wie namentlich für französische Verhältnisse,
bietet das Buch viel. Besonders aber werden die meist
hochdeutsch, aber vielfach auch in echt vorpommerschem
Platt gegebenen Schilderungen durch ihren frischen und
humordurchwehten Ton seinem Besitzer genußreiche
Lesestunden bereiten.
Alle Buchhandlungen nehmen Bestellungen entgegen.
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