John Magee – understand-culture

Anna in Sales

I‘ve become friends with a woman in my neighborhood. Anna is new to Bonn, having moved here to take a sales job in a well known electronics and household appliance retailer, the largest chain in Germany and very successful.

Her sales training lasted four weeks. Based on what Anna told me it sounded very comprehensive and intense. The salespeople are expected to have deep technical knowledge of their products. And although they are trained in sales, as well as in how to interact with customers, it is clear that the emphasis is on the products as technical solutions.

For any of my readers who have spent time in such stores in Germany, and asked a sales person a question or two, you‘ll know what I mean about product knowledge. German salespeople can go into great depth, sounding at times as if they were involved in the product development process itself. The depth of information is often too much for us Americans. Asking a simple question seldom leads to a simple answer.

Help customers. Take pride in your work.

Such stores in Germany are called a Fachgeschäft, a term not easily translated into American English. The equivalent would be „a store with technical products, sold by staff who view themselves as experts, who will give you detailed information on the products, including letting you know what is best for you.“

What is the spirit in the hearts of these salespeople? Arrogance? Are they know-it-alls? Or is it Technikverliebheit (obsession with technology)? Those were certainly my impressions in my early years in Germany. But they haven‘t been for a long time. The spirit is: help the customer, be professional, take pride in your work, demonstrate respect.

And this spirit you‘ll find in the local bakeries, at the computer store (especially the Apple re-sellers), from restaurant servers, at the information desk of the Deutsche Bahn in any train station, at the post office, in the bookstore, with the butcher in the supermarket, and so on. And because it is deeply cultural, it is a shared logic. The German customer expects it.

Frau Schmitz

A few weeks back I caught a stomach virus. I needed to pick up some medicine at my physician‘s office – Dr. Planck. It was a Friday afternoon. I did not have an appointment. His office, in the middle of Bonn, is small, with just Dr. Planck and his secretary/office manager. It‘s next to impossible to just „drop in“, but my schedule that week gave me no other choice.

I entered his practice, walked passed the waiting room nodding to the five or six folks reading magazines or scrolling up and down on smartphones, then popped my head in the secretary‘s office. „You don‘t have an appointment, Herr Magee.“

There was no smile on her face. In fact, she rarely smiles. Gruff would be the right word in English. Gruff is often the right word for Germans who Americans believe should be happy, shiny, smiling, friendly, and customer-oriented.

Friendly incompetence vs. unfriendly competence

„No, I‘m sorry, Frau Schmitz. I simply couldn‘t find the time to call. And my schedule ….“ She interrupted me in a kind of complaining tone. It wasn‘t clear exactly what she said. „Please wait in the waiting room, Herr Magee.“ I smiled and thanked her.

Twenty-five years I have lived in Germany. This type of interaction I‘ve experienced more than a thousand times: twenty-five years times twelve months times four times a month. I am very familiar with it. In my early years my reaction would have been: „Typical German. Unfriendly (gruff). Rules-obsessed (no appointment). Not customer-oriented („Don‘t they want me as a patient?“)

I don‘t think like that any more, though. Frau Schmitz got me in within forty-five minutes.

Dr. Planck was happy to see me. He asked not only about the virus, but about other aspects of my health, then wrote out the prescription. Frau Schmitz handled the paperwork very quickly and efficiently, then recommended what apothecary I should go to. She also had a few other tips about what I should eat and drink over the next few days. All the while she began to smile and engage in some very pleasant small talk.

Frau Schmitz appeared at first to be Frau Gruff, but then was in reality Frau Competent, Frau Caring and Frau Pleasant, all in one. Whenever people ask me to recommend a good physician in Bonn, I always recommend Dr. Planck (and Frau Schmitz).

Friendly incompetence

Over the last five or so years I have noticed more and more how German service personnel begin the conversation with Womit kann ich Ihnen helfen?: How can I help you. This is a new trend. Germans aren‘t known for saying things like that. It still sounds artificial, untypical, non-native.

Are the Germans not helpful? I suspect this Womit kann ich Ihnen helfen? has been imported from the U.S., where the „customer is king.“

So many Germans live and work in the United States, so many Germans do business there, that it is inevitable that they make comparisons to their own country, just as we Americans do when in Germany. And Germans very much like American customer-orientation. In fact, there has been a debate here for years about Germany as a Servicewüste, translated literally as service-desert.

It‘s not that Germans are not customer-oriented. That would be far too simple. How could a national economy be so strong worldwide and not be oriented towards responding to the needs of customers, whether in the business-to-consumer or business-to-business context?

„How can I help you?“

It is this explicit „How can I help you“ statement which is non-native to the Germans. But again, why? I believe that it is implicit in everything Germans think and do for their customers. Of course it is all about helping the customer, solving their problems, responding to their needs.

I recall addressing this distinction in a management seminar with Germans and Americans. The Germans smiled among themselves as if they were communicating to each other an insider-joke. I said: „Ok, what are you folks smiling about?“ One of them said freundliche Inkompetenz, which I translated for their American colleagues as „friendly incompetence.“ I knew what they meant, but asked them to explain.

„You go into stores here in the U.S. and you are greeted by the most friendly, positive, attractive people who give you the impression that they will do anything they possibly can to serve you. But, when you begin to ask a few questions, they often do not know the answers. If you ask complex questions, their face gets red and they say that they have to speak with the manager.“

Friendly incompetence vs. unfriendly competence

A few of the American colleagues chuckled, others did not. I asked the group what could be the reasons for freundliche Inkompetenz. Several responses came: „Sales in retail is low-paying. They aren‘t trained very well. Companies put all product information, including FAQs, up on their websites. Customers go into see the product first-hand, then buy or not buy.“

I then asked the German managers if the opposite of „friendly incompetence“ existed in Germany. Unfreundliche Kompetenz answered the one. Unfriendly competence. They all nodded, some laughed. „Yes, it‘s unbelievable how unfriendly sales people, waiters and so on can be in Germany. Even in the business world. We love the attitude here in the U.S. It makes life so much more enjoyable!“

As a side note, I recall speaking with the German ambassador to the U.S. years ago when I worked for the Christian Democrats in the Bundestag. „Herr Magee, it‘s amazing how easy it is to return a product to a store and get a full cash refund. That would never be possible in Germany. The sales people there argue with you and want you to state the reasons why you are returning the purchase!“

Friendly incompetence or unfriendly incompetence, which would you choose? I guess it depends on the situation. We have both in each country. Ideal would be friendly competence.

Like in the Middle Ages

Who has the say about processes is often a bloody battle. It’s about power. Central functions groups go to battle against each other. The also go into battle with and against line management.

Nabelschau. Navel-gazing. It’s a German tendancy, often more than just a tendancy. Instead of concentrating on winning the battle in the market, against the external competition, Germans invest a great amount of time in debating and defining which box goes where on the organizational chart, as well as who owns the box, who is put in the box. Org charts and processes are the battlefield – one of them – where Germans fight their fights. It can distract them from their work.

2000. A German DAX30 company with a critical presence in the U.S. I was interviewing a high-level American manager. He had done a three-year delegation in Germany, spoke some German, was clearly an intelligent and reflective person. He said:

“The Germans are constantly fighting internal turf wars, like battles for territory. It’s like in the Middle Ages. The one person sits high up in his castle and looks into the distance at the lands possessed by his neighbor in the next castle, scheming about how he can take some of his land. And the other guy in his castle? He’s thinking the same thing.”

And it often really is so in German companies. Prestige, influence and power are directly linked to – based on – size. Compensation, too, is typically based on the size of one’s organization. Literally, how many people you have “under you.” So the wars for power are fought over size, structure and processes. How the work is done.

Knead the dough this way

I’ve never had any kind of formal professional experience with or training in processes. I studied the liberals arts. History was my major. I’m non-technical. I can barely chang a lightbulb.

When my son, Daniel, was a young I dreaded the Christmas gifts we gave to him, the toys which needed to be put together, and then explained. At one Christmas I mentioned this to my mother. She laughed and said that my father was the same. I felt relief. I’m not as bad a father as I had feared. For my father was very capable man, more capable than I will ever be. And that’s ok.

The technical world never quite caught my interest. The natural world, though. Gazing at the stars during a warm, clear summer night in suburban Philadelphia in the 1970s. Climbing trees. Jumping in and out of streams. Running with the wind. Racing on paths through the woods on my bike. Jumping waves during the summer at the Jersey Shore. Smelling and feeling the freshly cut grass on the football field, as a twelve year old, on a Saturday morning during the last days of Indian Summer.

It’s all still very much in me. Yet, little to no interest in how it all came to be, how it works, how it continues to develop. Even though it is our world. We live in it. Technik – the technical world – what man creates, is of even less interest to me.

Processes are mission critical in the technical world. When large numbers of people are involved, when the work is complex in nature, when many steps need to be taken to get the job done, coordination is essential. Well thought through processes guaranty uniformity, quality, efficiency. That is the logic, at least.

It wasn’t until I began supporting Americans and Germans with their integration that I began thinking about processes. For who in their everyday lives invests time in thinking about how they do what they do in concrete steps?

Usually we focus on the results, the outcomes, of what we do. We think more about people, our interactions, our conflicts, than about work steps. It’s people who make our lives either easier or more difficult. So we think.

The less mechanical-mechanistic an activity is, the less process-driven (or -influenced) it is. People don’t behave like machines, not like objects. People have been neither created nor programmed by people.

In many of my management seminars I ask the German and American participants which factors are critical to the success of their companies. I can see them now in my mind’s eye. In breakout groups with their flipcharts. The Germans in one corner of the room, the Americans in the other.

It’s early Spring. We’re in a small town southwest of Nuremberg. A lovely little village with a stream running through it. Or seminar location no more than 100 meters from the town square. Everywhere evidences of German history, of the Middle Ages. I’m in my element.

Americans and Germans of today, working together, hoping to combine their inherent strengths as two cultures, in order to succeed. My job is limited, but focussed and not unimportant: to support them in their dialogue. To initiate, nudge, even jolt that dialogue. To formulate the questions. Questions which guide, steer, lead us in our imagination.

I walk over to the Germans. As always they’re deep in discussion. Deep dive. The way the Germans are. Success Factor #1 People. #2 Processes. Then innovation, quality, financial stability, etc.

And the Americans? “Processes” are nowhere to be seen on their flipcharts. Not mentioned. In other words, process is not a success factor. Instead they’ve written down: leadership, market knowledge, customer relationship management, speed, financial engineering, flexibility, product portfolio.

These folks – Germans and Americans – clearly differ. In fact, greatly differ. And, I believe that Germans cite people as the top success factor for reasons of political correctness.

I suspect that if it were acceptable in German society – and in German labor law – they would not put people ahead of processes but the other way around. That sounds rather harsh. The German economy is, however, technical. They produce physical products. Mechanical engineering. The Germans build machines. Machines which other companies use in order to make products for end users.

So often I hear it in their discussions. I listen in. Germans and processes. Concrete. Focused. Penetrating. Discussing time and again the how. They don’t focus on the results but moreso on what needs to be done in order to reach those results. It’s all about how they apply their craftsmanship.

It’s winter. Christmas-time. I’m at one of the German Middle Ages Christmas markets. The guilds have their stands: smith, tanner, potterer, candle-maker, baker. They’re family names, too. Smith. Tanner. Potter. Baker. Shoemaker. Nomen est omen. Name is omen.

They are what they do. What they do is who they are. I and the other visitors stand there transfixed. It’s cold, windy, raw. The guildsfolk are dressed up as they would have been back then, centuries ago. They speak an antiquated German. Thou instead of you. Seeth instead of see. The stalls of the craftsmen are warm, however, due either to their fires or the psychological sense of security their craft gives them, and us.

The work, their craft, our work gives us stability, security, a job to do, a place to be. Like the others, I look with fascination at the face and the hands of the craftsman. The simplicity. Calm. Almost reflective. To be one with one’s work. A deeper calm. A part of, at one, with the world. An integral part. Geborgen: safe, secure, sheltered.

The eyes and hands of the crafstman, the Meister, perfectly coordinated, in agreement. The steps of the process centuries-old: tested, improved, tested, improved, taught, learned, tested, improved. It becomes a part of a people’s flesh and blood. Becomes a part of their seeing, sensing, doing.

„If it is worth doing, it is worth doing right“, my mother would say time and again. Maybe the many unsoliticed pieces of advice the Germans have given me over the years were not that bad after all. Maybe they’re not the chronic know-it-alls, we Americans think they are. Maybe that’s just being German.

Don’t hold the hammer like that way, but like this. That’s not the way you knead the dough, but like this. Work the leather like this to make it smoother. Success in Germany means to do things in a certain way, and not in another way. All this so that the customer says: “Yes, that’s the way it should be done. That’s the right way to do it.”

Abstract vs. Imbedded

A few years back I interviewed an American expert on processes. He works in a German multinational company with a very large presence in the U.S. He and his German colleagues had been working for months on aligning their processes.

The Germans wanted very much to harmonize the processes. “harmonize” is a dirty word for the Americans. It conjures up scenes of horror. They were making very little progress. On the contrary, they were bickering. And how did the American process guy respond to my question about deductive or inductive? “What is this a university seminar in philosophy?”

He then explained. As the process expert in the organization he stays in close contact with those colleagues who move the business forward, those in the “engine room.” He knows their world, their problems, what’s going on. He accompanies, observes, asks questions, listens. Then he reflects, proposes, presents, discusses. Modifying existing processes, or introducing entirely new ones, is based on knowledge and understanding of the situation “on the ground.”

The collaboration between the doers and the process expert is close and integrated. Process people need to know the business, the key people, and the work, before they can address how the work is done.

As an American, I understand this. But, isn’t it critical that the process person take a step back, get some distance, in order to understand and analyze it all? Isn’t abstraction – getting abstract – the prerequisite for solid analysis?

Could it be that getting abstract is so self-stated in the German context, that they neglect to explain to their American colleagues that they also do their homework, that they also do the field work, interviewing and understanding those who do the work day in and day out?

I suspect that the German colleagues present their results – modified or new processes – straight from the process laboratory so to speak, after already having gotten abstract on the key factors – let’s call them principles.

This German approach implies – therefore understood by all involved – that there is a natural, and healthy, tension between getting into the details of how the work is done, and gaining enough distance from them in order to understand them.

The logic is: “The deeper I go into the details, or get pulled into the details, the more difficult it will be to recognize the drivers, the key factors, the patterns. I need distance. I need my laboratory.”

If the German approach to processes is difficult for Americans to grasp, and therefore accept, what makes it even more difficult is their impression that their German colleagues do not understand the American market, how Americans do business. They see processes coming from the German process lab which don’t work in the U.S., that can potentially damage the business.

That big stick is wielded by Americans often and swiftly: “You folks don’t know our market, how we work, what it means to be successful here. You failed here in the U.S. with your German approach. That’s why you acquired us. So please don’t make changes to our processes, don’t introduce any new processes, without first speaking with us and then allowing us to adapt what you propose to our situation!”

„No taxation without representation!“ That was one of the battle cries of the American colonists. They revolted. The British, a world power then, were defeated. The United States of America was formed.

German logic very confusing

So many people on the German side. Especially in central functions. Who have so much time on their hands. Producing so many powerpoint presentations. Conduct so many long-winded discussions. Going into such great detail.

The Americans call them bureaucrats, who create processes, in order to justify their jobs in the company. “Make work.” German bureaucracy is there, say Americans, “to feed the village.”

Germans and Americans come together to discuss their collaboration, including to discuss their processes. They don’t know each other, are wary of each other, want to defend and protect their work, how they work, demonstrate that their processes are effective.

In many cases – perhaps most – people are convinced that their processes are good, and that they live them. But many Americans have a cliché-view of the Germans. They strike the table with their fist and say: „We will do it this way and not that way!“ And German behavior can at times appear to support that cliché.

The truth is, German colleagues are also convinced that their approaches work. And why not? Unfortunately, many of them are not proficient enough in English, and they, too, are unsure of themselves, perhaps feel the need to force their point across, strongly, vehemently. I don’t have a problem with that. But, many Americans do: „totally inflexible Germans with their inflexible German processes.“

In addition to these tensions you have the fact that Germans tend not to document their processes. Often they refuse to do so. When they do document, however, the formulation is usually general, with little detail.

Why? For one, the written word in the German culture has a high degree of binding character. Germans are very reluctant to tie their hands via detailed processes and procedures which then obligate them to do their work in specific ways. Another reason is that many Germans don’t want to share their knowhow. They don’t want it to be transferrable.

This is not so much about “information is power”, but far more about job-security. And then, of course, they see very little value in taking the time to carefully and clearly write things down. Their thinking is: Institutional knowledge is there. Folks know what they are supposed to do, when, how and why.

And, Germans develop competences differently than Americans. First learn, then do. They work in specific areas for a longer period of time, developing deep-dive knowledge and experience. And they get a sense for the what other departments close to theirs do.

Depth and breadth. Continuity and consistency. Kaminaufstieg – move up within the smokestack or the silo – is the term they use. They build expertise, become experts. And experts, Germans would say, don’t need document how the work is done. They have it in their heads.

Documented or not documented, either way it remains a mystery to Americans when Germans “stick to the letter of the law” (process discipline) and when they permit themselves to ignore the process (process deviation).

On the one side stubborn, dogmatic Germans and their inflexible processes. On the other, little to no process documentation, and doing things they way they simply want to. And when they do deviate from the process they may not even bother informing their boss. Very confusing.

Deductive. Inductive. Who cares?

Maybe I, as an American, like in any culture, have blinders on. Maybe, despite after more than twenty-five years in Germany, I still have a national-cultural blindspot.

Perhaps we in the U.S. are just as interested in norms and standards as in Germany. We seek them out, want them, want to force them onto reality, even onto other people. But I don’t think we do.

Even if so, not as much as the Germans do. Perhaps the “rich and powerful” in the U.S. force their norms and standards on the “common people” in such a clever way that they don’t even notice it.

I do notice, however, time and again, in discussions with many Americans how much they resist gaining distance, separating themselves from a given situation, in order to get abstract, to recognize patterns, deeper lying drivers, even principles which are at play.

They react to my questions as if they did not quite understand them, or never considered such questions, or wonder why in the world I would even ask them.

At first I thought “Ok, they simply don’t understand me intellectually” or “They clearly have never thought about these things before” or “Hmm, they have so little experience working with another culture that they have never made the contrast.”

Maybe it’s something else. Maybe the Americans I have been speaking to think: “What strange questions. So theoretical. So far away from the situation on the ground, from reality.”

I think Americans quickly and rather matter of fact say to themselves – or to me – “Deductive. Inductive. Who cares? We’re in business to make money. And we do that by meeting the needs of our customers.”

They are saying in order words, our processes – how we do the work – aren’t deduced vertically from some principles. They are rooted in customer needs, in the free market, in competition with other companies.

Everything we do – the what and the how – is oriented on our customers. The overarching fact – the reality of things – is the dynamic between customer and supplier. The market – all of those interactions – has the say, and not some principles floating up in the clouds.

Process Lab

Recently I interviewed an American process expert working in a global German company with a very significant presence in the U.S. He and his colleagues have been working for quite some time to integrate the processes on both sides of the Atlantic.

The term used is „harmonisieren“ or „harmonize“, which for many Americans had become the equivalent of a four-letter word. They have made little progress. Folks continue to disagree. When I asked about whether American processes were the result of deductive or inductive thinking, he looked at me as if saying: „What kind of question is that? Are we in an Introductin to Philosophy class at some university?“

Instead he said, he does his best to remain in close contact with his colleagues who make the business go: their world, problems, effects, observing, asking questions, listening carefully. He then reflects, analyzes, suggests, discusses. He only recommends changes to processes, especially to the key ones, if they are based on a solid understanding of how the work is done, on reality, after having been „on the ground“ with the people who use the processes.

Abstraction as a requirement for understanding

He collaborates very closely with the people whose work he is analyzing. Process experts, he says, have to understand the business, the people involved, and the workflow before they can engage in a discussion about whether a process can and should be modified.

As an American I understand this. But, I think, is it not essential to then separate yourself from that which you have observed and studied, in order to truly understand it? Isn‘t abstraction a requirement for understanding?

Could it be that the German process experts often forget to inform their American colleagues that they, too, get into the details of the processes they review? Are they misperceived by the American side as being too abstract, of not „getting their hands dirty“, not digging into the details?

Tension between depth and distance

I suspect that the German colleagues present the results of their process analysis „right out of their process laboratory“, where they get abstract, but after having studied the details. Perhaps they do not get into the details as much as their American counterparts, who embed themselves in the processes.

Germans are reluctant to embed themselves based on a fear that they will lose perspective, lose Überblick (overview), not be able to recognize patterns. In their process lab they have the peace and quiet to reflect on, to understand what they have observed and studied.

The big stick

Making acceptance of German processes in the U.S. even more difficult is the impression many Americans have that their German colleagues do not understand the U.S. market. They see in many German processes a threat to their business: „Their processes won‘t work here. They‘ll ruin our business.“

It‘s the big stick which many Americans use to beat back the importation of German processes, or even the partial integration of American and German processes. In some situations, where the American organization had been an independent company bought by a German one, one can hear Americans say: „You don‘t know our customers, how we work, what it takes to be successful here. You failed in the U.S., that‘s why you bought us. So please, no processes from Germany, at least not without first discussing with us how to modify them so that they help more than harm.“

Inward oriented

The intense German focus on processes unsettles Americans time and again. It limits, cramps their flexibility. In the U.S. processes are seldom viewed as an effective alternative to agility, speed, creativity. Americans believe that the core skills of good management cannot be forced into processes, cannot be performed by processes. For them processes are tools which offer support.

In my early years here in Germany as an American I was put on the defensive when asked about my processes, my approach, how I do my work. Or at least I felt defensive, perhaps because I was not prepared to respond.

Then I went into the opposite direction. When asked about my work and its value for my customers, I would go into great detail about how I do the work, my thought and work processes, and spend too little time explaining the value of it all.

Intensity bangs into bafflement

My first website did little more than simply show my four-step process, in the sense of: „Do you want to know who I am, what I do, what value it could have for you and your company? Just take a look at my methodology.“ As you can imagine, the site did not attract much attention.

Well, you can also imagine what happens when Germans and Americans come together to discuss internal work processes. Intensity bangs into bafflement. Precise questions get imprecise answers. Impatience meets impatience. Each side shaking their heads about the other.

We Americans see long, detailed discussions about processes as a form of German navel-gazing. It‘s all well and good to do some thinking about the how, every now and then, but not too often, and certainly not for too long. The more you spend analyzing internal things, the more quickly you distance yourself from external things, such as the market, customers and their needs, from reality.

Proud but not arrogant

It was a discussion I had with Egon in the summer of 1991. In Bonn. He was married to a classmate of my German wife. Very intelligent guy. Mathematician in the Max Planck Institute. Friendly, courteous, sensitive, analytical. His wife, a linguist, outgoing, lively, funny.

Our conversations were always fascinating. Serious topics. Intellectual substance. We were eating in an Italian restaurant. A warm day with a lovely breeze wafting up from the Rhine River. The windows of the restaurant wide open. The long, black container boats on the Rhine, but also the private boats darting about, all waving their large German flags, black red gold. Germany had become reunited in October the year before. For a brief moment the Germans felt they could show feel, and show, patriotism.

Poets and thinkers

In the summer, especially in the early hours when the sun shines, Bonn has an almost Mediterranean flair. The air is clear, fresh, sweet. The water‘s surface reflects the rays of the sun in a soft, inviting way. If you look across the Rhine into the distance, starting to the North, then pan to the East, then South, you can see the transition from the Lower Rhine (flatland) to the Middle Rhine, to the Seven Mountains, pointing to the south, where the Rhine snakes to and through the towns of Koblenz, Mainz, into the Palatinate, on to Northern Baden, where the river becomes the border between Germany and France.

We discussed German history. I should have noted down what Egon had said. Only some of the details can I recall. But his thesis seemed more than plausible. Time and again over the years the conversation came back to me.

The Germans, Egon said, were in their history always a bit boxed in, geographically, and politically. They turned inward. The land of Dichter und Denker, of poets and thinkers. A land of people who reflect. Whereas the British, French, Dutch, Spanish and the Portugese looked, and went, outward.

They are Seevölker, literally sea peoples, maritime nations. They had overseas colonies, traded across the oceans, became naval powers. Many of their finest, the most talented, looked outward, went out, chased adventure and ventures outside of their countries. In Germany, the best looked inward, worked inward, stayed within.