The Trouble with Transformations

Thinking big when you should just be thinking

By Julian Browne on December 11, 2007. Filed Under business, delivery

Transformation time.

"Dr Chilton does enjoy his petty torments"

"What did you mean by 'transformation', Doctor?"

"I've been in this room for eight years now, Clarice.

I know they will never ever let me out while I'm alive.

What I want is a view. I want a window where I can see a tree, or even water.

I want to be in a federal institution far away from Dr Chilton"

I can't hear the word "transformation" without thinking about that scene from Silence of the Lambs. Buffalo Bill, the psycho skin-coat seamstress who lives in a house full of moths (oh the symbolism), transforms himself from Looney Tunes dog lover into an unconvincing woman, while agent Clarice Starling transforms herself from rookie cop into a far more convincing federal agent. The point being, I suppose, that transformations can go either way.

These days it seems like everybody's at it. I checked three international job sites this morning and uncovered well over a hundred (I gave up counting) roles required to either manage, or contribute in a significant way to, a transformation. I myself have, over the last six years: been transformed, been seconded into two transformation teams to transform others, and led one such initiative entirely.

I'm not going to fall into the trap of kidding myself that I harboured fundamental doubts on any of those projects. Far from it. I think I genuinely believed that better futures could be constructed by taking a step back, to redesign and update things like process, organisational structures, skills, attitudes, and so on. In fact I still believe that it's possible, but I also have to admit that, on balance, a transformation exercise is more likely to simply waste valuable time than it is to revamp a tired and under-performing IT organisation.

And keep referring back to why you're doing it. Don't get led into change for its own sake. Remember what happened with Hannibal Lecter. All he wanted was a view, a window where he could see a tree, or even water. Then the consultant showed up.