The Book

It landed with a thud. Peter picked it up and hefted it; there must be at least 100 pages in there. He carefully opened the internal mail envelope, and drew out the Book.

Attached to the top was a transmittal note: "Document Control" it said. Control, he thought. The note was signed by no less than the MD, so he quickly initialled it and put it back in the envelope, then re-addressed it and put it in his out tray.

The he looked again at the Book. It looked like a three-ring binder but the cover was gold; not gold leaf, just gold-coloured plastic. His name was stencilled onto the front - someone had spent real money on this.

Underneath his name were the words "Quality Manual", beside the company logo. And underneath that were the words "Do it once, and do it right," and below them a lightning bolt, in pale blue and silver.

He lifted the front cover. It wasn’t a three-ring binder, he realised, but a fancy five-ring job, with plastic page protectors front and back, built to last.

The contents of the Book were shrink-wrapped, a solid plank of paper with dividers in different colours. Peter slit the plastic with his teeth, and the pages slipped out onto his desk.

With difficulty, he put them into the binder. They were numbered in a complex sequence, and each page was colour-coded to match the colour of the divider.

When he finally had all the pages in, and clipped shut the five rings (they were gold too - no, brass) he closed the Book carefully and stood it up on the corner of his desk.

He tried to work, but the Book drew his attention. Such an impressive Book. His eye caught the spine - another blue and silver lightning bolt, with the words “Quality is your job”, and the title “Quality Manual”.

He picked it up again, and opened it. The first page was a letter addressed to him personally, and signed by the MD. Again he was impressed. In a company this size you don’t often get to see the managers at all, far less get a personal letter from the MD. Then with a lurch he realised that it was a form letter (there were over two thousand people working in the company), and that the signature must have been photocopied on. He grunted, and turned the page.

The next page did have gold leaf on it; it said “Quality Manual” in pure gold, with the pale blue and silver lightning bolt beside it. Underneath was a table showing the current version number of each section of the book. All of them were version 1.0.

He turned the page again, and came to a divider. This one was deep purple, with white lettering and that lightning bolt (just in white, this time). It said “Policies”.

The first page of “Policies” was another letter from the MD, but this time to the whole company. He read it carefully. It told of “a commitment to quality”, and “world’s best practice”. It dedicated the whole company to “delighting our customers”, and promised “utmost vigilance” in rooting out mistakes. He looked around nervously.

There were five other desks in his open-plan area. Two people were on annual leave, one was on a course, and one was in a meeting. Peter didn’t know where the fifth one was, but their jacket was on the back of the chair.

On each desk was a heavy internal mail envelope, as yet unopened.

He turned back to the Book.

After the letter was a series of statements of company policy, numbered one through twenty for some reason. The first spoke of someone called the “Management representative”, and of those with “responsibility for ensuring quality”. It was written in what seemed like Biblical language: every sentence contained the word “Shall”. He supposed that fitted with the dignity and gravity of the Book. It wouldn’t seem right somehow to have such an important work written in ordinary language. Biblical fitted much better.

He leafed through the rest of the Policies. There was one on Corrective Action. Was that something to do with Corrective Services? Maybe the company had a contract to do air conditioning for prisons?

The twentieth Policy was on Statistical Techniques. But it was disappointing - it just said “Not applicable”. He pouted; this had been the most promising of the headings, and it was not applicable. Didn’t the company use statistics anywhere? Weren’t they important?

He turned the page.

The next divider was shocking pink, and this time the printing on it was in deep blue. Nice touch - contrasting colour to the divider. The thunderbolt didn’t look right in blue and pink, though. He turned the divider.

The next part of the Book was all about the Quality System. So they were going to have a System. That’s good, he thought. It’s nice to have a system, to know what you’re supposed to be doing. He wondered whether they would find something more interesting for him to do.

Peter sat up. Perhaps this was the beginning of his career! Since he’d joined the air conditioning company three years before, he’d been waiting for his career to start properly. He’d studied design engineering at college, and passed poorly after a number of attempts. He’d expected to begin a career designing air conditioning. Perhaps start with the grilles. He’d never liked the look of air conditioning grilles.

But when he joined the company, they’d put him in estimating, and he’d spent three years checking the addition of quotes for air conditioning systems. Not even complete quotes, just parts lists and lists of materials. All he had to do was to make sure that the costs were right.

Well, maybe things were about to change. Maybe this new Quality System would make his manager think about how best to use him, use his skills. Maybe he’d checked his last parts list!

He turned again to the Book, hungrily this time. He turned the pages, looking for anything that might relate to industrial engineering, or even to estimating. Reaching the last page, he realised that he’d understood none of it.

He turned to the beginning again, and looked for references to air conditioning, to ducting, or to metalwork in general. Nothing. Electrical engineering? Any kind of engineering?

He frowned. Maybe this was the wrong Book, delivered by mistake and intended for some other company? No, there was the company logo on the front cover, and indeed the name of the company at the bottom of each page, next to the words “In strictest commercial confidence”.

That gave him another start. In strictest commercial confidence. Maybe he’d have to lock it in his desk at night? Anyway, it made him feel important, that the company had entrusted him with its own, most internal secrets. He smiled, closed the book and took out his lunch.
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Three weeks later, Peter found the Book again in a pile of cost reports. Its cover had lost its initial sheen, and he was shocked to see that his fingerprints on the cover had somehow changed the colour of the plastic they had touched, leaving a thin brown stain for each finger. He tried to rub it off, but it was stuck fast.

He opened the Book again, but shut it quickly when its first few pages reminded him of how unrewarding it had been the last time.

He looked around him. Now three of the five desks were filled with estimators working glumly. Each desk held a Quality Manual, a bar of gold among the stacks of other coloured binders and manuals.

Sadly, he put the Book back onto its pile.
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Suddenly, it was Quality Day. It arrived with fanfares, with gold-lettered posters, with “Quality is your job” mugs handed out for free by the tea lady.

It had been six weeks since the Book had arrived.

There would be a series of “Quality is your job” Harmonisation Sessions. His name was on the list for Session 4, beside the rest of the people in estimating. For the first time in three years, he could feel a buzz of what could only be excitement through the place. People were talking to each other, discussing what Quality might be. He even saw someone break into a run to catch a closing lift.

Peter’s first Quality Harmonisation Session was on the Tuesday morning. They were ushered into to the holy of holies, the Board Room. He’d never been in there before, and neither had anyone else in his group, including his boss. In the Board Room was free coffee and biscuits, hard evidence that at last the company recognised what a difficult and skillful job was carried out in estimating.

They sat around the big rosewood table, glancing nervously at each other and trying to look relaxed.

Suddenly, the Consultant came in. He had a shock of white hair and a bow tie. He wore braces, and a striped shirt with a white collar.

He introduced himself around the room, and then asked each of them to tell him what Quality was. There was a nervous silence. In a panic, Peter tried to remember what was in the Book. The answer must lie in there - if only he’d brought it with him.

But Peter’s boss knew better than to panic. The old man had been in estimating for nearly forty years, and had seen everything. He’d told them to ignore this Quality thing, “It’s just another passing parade. Keep your head down, and it will pass, just like every other fad,” he’d said.

Now his boss spoke up, and Peter was warmed by his confidence. “Why don’t you tell us what it is,” he said. There was a titter of nervous laughter.

The Consultant looked Peter’s boss right in the eye. He’d obviously seen it all before, too. “No, I’d rather hear it from you, if you don’t mind.”

If you don’t mind. Such a polite way of speaking. Obviously a gentleman. Peter was suddenly embarrassed that his boss had been cheeky. He put his hand up. The Consultant nodded.

“Quality is my job,” he said, blushing.

“Very good,” said the Consultant, “very good indeed. Quality is your job.” Peter through he’d pass out, he felt so hot.

The rest of the Harmonisation Session was actually a lot of fun. The Consultant handed out pieces of square paper and they all had to make paper aeroplanes, as quickly as possible. Just like preschool, only playing with your workmates. They all had a good laugh.
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The weeks went past, and Peter went to more Harmonisation Sessions. They learned what were called ‘listening skills’, which Peter found very easy. All you had to do was keep your mouth shut for five minutes, nod and say “Yes”. Another time, they worked out how little profit the company actually made, after all the expenses (electricity, rent, wages (that was a really big one), taxes) were taken out. It made him feel sorry for the shareholders, who only got what was left at the very end, after everyone (including him, he realised with a start) had had their ‘bite of the cherry’.

Peter had quite forgotten about the Book. The Harmonisation Sessions were great fun, most of the time, and only occasionally did he look at the spine of the book “Quality is your job” and wonder whether it had anything to do with this other Quality.

Then something terrible happened.

One Friday lunchtime the six of them in estimating were called into his boss’s office. There weren’t enough chairs, so they all had to stand. There, they heard that they’d all been made redundant. Peter didn’t remember much more that day.
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“Estimator required for small engineering firm. Two years experience minimum.”

“Here’s one, love,” said his Mum. “Shall I mark it for you?”

Peter nodded, munching his Weet-Bix.
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His first day at the new job was strange. He had to keep asking for things - where’s the pencils, where’s the toilet, where’s the fax machine.

It was different in other ways, too, mainly (he thought) because it was a small company. He’d been reluctant even to come to the interview at first; he’d had his heart set on a big company, somewhere he could really rise. But this would do for the time being, until something better came up.

His new boss was different, too. Talked a lot. Asked questions.

Peter tried to get into a routine, to sort his work out so that he knew what was what. But it kept changing. Over the weeks he realised he was handling different kinds of work almost every day. His boss, or one of the other partners, would come up to him and say, “Peter, could you take a look at this for me?”, or “Peter, do you think you can handle this?” He did some quotations, he did some purchasing. He did a little of everything. He felt himself growing.

Little by little he began to realise how lucky he’d been to be made redundant from his first job. He realised what kind of sorry history was lying in wait for him there. He was tempted to phone his previous workmates, to tell them to get out too. But that wouldn’t be right, would it.

For the first time in his life, he was actually happy at work. His Mum remarked on it.
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One day, one of the senior partners called him into his office. Peter walked in, sat down.

“When you were at your last job, they went into Quality, didn’t they?”

Peter nodded.

“What did you think about it?”

Peter drew a breath, held it for a moment. “I was only there at the start. They issued something called a Quality Manual, then we had a series of Harmonisation Sessions to get us all to work together better.”

“Go on.”

“Well, that was it. Then I was laid off.”

“We’re looking at getting certification here, and I wondered if you had any insight into what it was all about.”

Peter nodded sadly, “All I remember is that they told me that Quality meant my job. And in the end, it did.”
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When the Consultant arrived, the managing partner introduced him to all of the staff. The Consultant also wore a bow tie, but his shirt was all white and he didn’t wear braces, Peter noticed. Perhaps this one was cheaper than the last Consultant.

A few days later, Peter and the rest of the staff went to a Quality Introduction Course. Peter hoped they got to make paper aeroplanes again; he’d been quite good at that.

The Course didn’t turn out like that. The Consultant sat them all down and talked about customers, and about procedures. They’d had a procedure manual at Peter’s last job, but it was five years out of date and no-one could ever find a copy when they needed one, so they’d ignored it.

The Consultant didn’t get them to make paper aeroplanes, but the Course was interesting anyway. Then the Consultant started talking about Quality.

He told them about some document published by the United Nations that said what procedures a company had to write. That worried Peter a bit; he didn’t like the thought of governments telling him how to do his job.

Finally, the Consultant mentioned that the document had twenty elements. Peter sat up straight, and thought again of the golden Book. Then the Consultant had explained about Corrective Action, and about Statistical Techniques. All of a sudden, Peter understood just how stupid he’d been in his previous job. Of course, the golden Book - Quality Manual, now he remembered its title - had been an implementation of this international standard.

Then the Consultant went on to talk about procedures again. This confused Peter - was the standard about Quality, or about procedures? Surely the two weren’t connected?

But yes, the Consultant was saying, they were connected. With procedures - proper procedures, not out of date lost ones - you could do a better job. And doing a better job meant giving your customers better service. And that meant better Quality.

Peter asked about the Harmonisation Sessions; how did they fit into Quality? The Consultant said that the idea of those sessions was to get people to work more closely together, but that you still needed procedures for the company as a whole to work better. Peter nodded, unconvinced. He remembered what his old boss had said, about keeping your head down and waiting for it to pass.
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But over the months that followed, Peter got more and more involved with procedures. The partners put him in charge of document control. He did wonder from time to time whether it was all worthwhile. After all, there were only thirty-odd people in the company. Did they really need a register of every copy of every procedure in the place?

Then he remembered the procedure manual at his old company, how no-one could ever find a copy - but that was a big company.

Funnily enough, the other procedures all made sense. They’d been drawn up by groups of employees and partners, in morning sessions presided over by the Consultant (who now even showed up most of the time with a normal tie on). By the time everyone had had a say about a procedure, had a whinge about the bits they didn’t like, and defended the bits they did like, everyone was happy with it. And what’s more, it was theirs - it hadn’t landed on their desk with a thump in an internal mail envelope and a gold binder.

Slowly, the character of the place changed. People started to talk in terms of procedures, and when something went wrong they didn’t just head for cover and send memos, like they had at the old company; they changed the procedures instead.

Finally, the quality manual was ready to be issued. The policies in it had been fought over by all of the partners; Peter had heard them shouting at each other in the meeting room every Friday afternoon for weeks.

As document controller, he had to choose a suitable binder for this most central, most holy of documents. With great deliberation he went to the stationery cupboard and took out ten cheap plain white three-ring binders.

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This is one of a series of articles written by Phil Cohen and Onno van Ewyk, HCi . Most of the articles were also published in the Australian Financial Review. This article may be reproduced only with the permission of HCi Consulting (email HCi ). Copyright HCi, 1993-1998.