The Fall of 1981. My first time in Germany. Blaubeuren, a small town in Swabia. South of Stuttgart. I had signed up for a ten-week intensive course in German at the Goethe Institute. Grundstufe III (Base Level 3). My German back then weak, my memories of Blaubeuren today strong. I will never forget the very first impressions of Germany. The coolness and almost sweetness of the early morning air. The damp lawns and fields. The intense autumn colors of the foliage in a town nestled in the Swabian Alb. The schoolchildren hustling off to school.

The fascinating, yet mysterious, Benedictine Monastery from the 11th Century. The Blautopf (literally blue pot or kettle), a large natural pool of deeply dark water giving access to a complex network of waterways under the hills surrounding Blaubeuren, with its age-old legends of mystery. The Swabian dialect of the region, a version of German I could only rarely understand. The wonderful baked goods I enjoyed each and every day after lunch.

Important in Germany is not to stick out too much. Is it because they don’t want to make others envious? Or because one should demonstrate how to maintain balance, not get a “big head”? Or demonstrate a proper balance between individualism and belonging to a group, whose help one may need at any time?

Keep the subjective and personal to a minimum

Whether giving presentations in grammar school, in high school or at the university level Germans train, practice and stress over and over again objectivity: stick to the facts, no emotions, avoid gaps in your argumentation, be so comprehensive that hardly any questions are necessary in the question and answer part after your presentation.

You see it in German resumés (curriculum vitae). Factual. Unemotional. Objective. No holes in the educational and professional background. Anticipate all the questions a potential employer might ask. Subjective and personal information is kept to a bare minimum. Adding things such as interests or hobbies is a new trend, imported from the U.S. and not a part of the German logic.

Das, was möglich ist, streben wir an.“ Literally: That which is possible we strive for. In a deeper sense: We always strive for the optimum.

„So gut wie möglich, nicht so gut wie nötig.“ Literally: As good as possible, not as good as necessary. In a deeper sense: As good as humanly possible or as good as we can possibly to do it, and never only as good as it needs to be, or not just as good as the customer has ordered it.

I look at my talking points on the topic of product philosophy. German logic: Products have intrinsic functionality. The optimal is oriented (aimed, pointed at) the ideal. American logic: For the buyer, the optimal is the product which offers the best value; for the seller, the optimal is the product which is most profitable. Two different worlds, is my impression. Germans and the ideal. Americans and the transaction.

Technical miracles. Practically no cost.

I think of Skype calls from my computer. On the computer screen I see my mother in suburban Philadelphia, far away from Bonn, Germany. What a technical miracle. In my early years in Germany, 1988 in then West Berlin, we would talk once a month by phone. A collect call via the German telepone operator. Today, any time during our overlapping waking hours from my computer or smartphone, as long as I have access to the web. And at practically no cost.

I see my mother‘s face on the screen. The camera on my laptop is above, at the top. But I can‘t look at her and into the camera at the same time. We can‘t look each other in the eyes. I move my eyes up and down, to look into her eyes, and to allow her to look into mine. Both at the same time is not possible, however. It‘s either or.

That‘s my image for how I believe Germans see the customers. Germans who serve customers, who have customers in the forefront of their minds. Germans in R&D, in product development, in sales or marketing, or Germans in services, or those responsible for strategy.

Germans want to serve the customer.

Yes, they are looking at and listening to the customer. On the screen. Just about fully focused. Taking in, understanding, preparing themselves to respond to the customer‘s needs, problems, wishes, challenges. But they – the Germans – also look time and again upwards, above, beyond, I think towards the ideal.

In other words, they listen not exclusively to the customer, but also, in addition to, the customer, above and beyond, towards the ideal. Yes, Germans want to serve the customer. And the strength of the their economy is proof that the German people knows how to listen to, understand and serve customers.

But they aim higher, strive for further, confident that doing so will guaranty that their customer‘s needs will be satisfied, almost as a byproduct, automatically. In fact, I have always sensed that Germans serving their customers, their markets, resist limiting what they can do by mere customer requirements. They are constantly alternating between looking at the person on the computer screen during the skype talk – as a metaphor – and looking into the camera, above the screen so to speak, and searching for the ideal.

American engineers as problem-solves and businesspeople

And yes, there is the danger that in doing so they do not fully listen to the customer, that their response to the customer is not exactly what the customer wanted or expected, that the customer feels not listened to, not understood, not served. And yes, there is the danger that they over-serve their customers, providing more that was requested or needed, or what the customer is willing to pay for.

And the American approach? Different. Not totally so, but often in a nuanced way. Americans, too, are capable and willing to aim for the ideal, to look beyond the customer. At the same time they feel more comfortable with staying focused on looking at the screen, listening very carefully to how the customer defines their needs and wants, to allowing the customer to define what the ideal is.

Whereas the German is engineer is part inventor and part artist – at it is the German engineer who is at the heart of German products – the American engineer is part pragmatic problem-solver and part businessperson (even salesperson). This difference is true not only for the engineers on both sides of the Atlantic, but for both cultures in general.

Go beyond what I was requesting

Americans fear that their German colleagues don‘t fully focus on the customer. Their German colleagues, in turn, fear that the Americans focus only on the customer. It becomes more complex, and difficult to reconcile and manage, depending on from which business culture the customer comes, whether Germany, the U.S. or another.

Recently I recognized that my website needed to be modified. I identified those changes through input from users and from a few trusted advisors. I then defined them in terms of scope, budget and schedule. In each of my talks with web agencies here in Bonn the tendancy was strong to go beyond what I was requesting, what I needed. The Germans, all very capable, wanted to go deeper, broader, more systematically. I had to slow them down, remind them of the defined limits.

Perhaps they wanted to convince me to give them a bigger mandate, a bigger contract. Perhaps, but not necessarily. More likely, they were looking beyond me on the computer screen, in the skype call, figuratively speaking. Each time I had to pull them back.

„That‘s too much for now. It exceeds scope and budget, and will take too long.“ But, maybe they‘re right. They‘re the experts. It is I who need them, as much as they need me.

It was more than a decade ago, but I can remember the scene as if it were last week. A workshop for a German multinational with a large and critical presence in the U.S. The participants were Germans and Americans. Two full days, in a seminar hotel, away from phones, computers, all the action.

An American colleague stood at the front presenting his breakout groups results. An interesting guy, mid-30s, average height, shaved head, wiry, glasses, super intensive eyes, especially when he speaks, almost a bit manic. In the heat of discussion you never knew if he would pounce on you like a cat or suddenly break into a broad smile, sink into his chair tossing his head back, laughing loudly.

I can’t remember what exactly the topic was. Not important. But his German colleagues saw things differently. They had presented before him. Their flipcharts hung on the wall. He – the Cat – responded to each and every one of their questions, doing his best to persuade them of his point of view. Again and again he stressed “we need to orient ourselves clearly on the needs of our customers. If you folks (he meant his German colleagues) would simply understand that, things would go much better on this project.”

In fact, somewhere on each of his flipcharts he stated this point: “listen to customers” or “meet needs” or “respond to concerns.” When he then, during his presentation, made this point for the fifth or sixth time, a German colleague erupted. A similar kind of guy. Average height, perhaps a bit shorter. Slender. Discreetly expressive, kind of like a Jazz musician who while playing thinks hard about what notes to play, all the while maintaining a totally relaxed demeanor. Focused, intense, but relaxed. You don”t see that combination too often in Germany.

“The question is how we do it, how we actually do the work!”

This guy had lived and worked in the U.S. before, for many years. He had a healthy, balanced, fair relationship as a German with the U.S., its people and culture. Both of these guys – Catman and Jazzguy – were friends, too, interacting on a daily basis across the Atlantic.

Jazzguy looked at his American friend, smiled, grabbed his own head with both hands, then said: “Catman, just because you and your American colleagues write on all your flipcharts, and just because you state again and again, that we have to orient ourselves on the needs of the customer, does not mean that you Americans actually do it! And just because we Germans don‘t write this on all of our flipcharts, and don’t state it over and over again, doesn’t mean that we Germans don’t do it!”

Jazzman did not state this in a mean way. On the contrary, he was smiling sincerely the entire time. His message was: “Catman, we don’t need to waste time discussing the goal, which is to serve the customer. That is obvious, it is self-stated in all that we do, including what we are doing here. The question is how we do it, how we actually do the work!”

Jazzman simply wanted to go deeper into what it means to serve the customer. Again, I do not think that Americans are less intelligent than Germans. Maybe a different kind of intelligence, a different approach to doing things intelligently. But the Jazzman’s message was very insightful.

And I have so often experienced this here in Germany, with the Germans. They enter into dialogue with each other, analyzing important, fascinating topics, always asking what, who, why, but friendly, diplomatic (most of the time), seeking the truth, together. Their economy is very strong, which is hardly possible without serving customers.

And his American colleagues, including Catman, understood his intentions in this way. And they understood the message in his statement: Das Was ist das Wie, the what is the how. The goal is defined for the most part by how you try to reach it, the path you take to it. Process.

Denk mit. Think with. From the German verb mitdenken. Germans expect this of team members. They expect it, also, of the products they develop.

A friend describes the technology built into his new high end German sedan. He was in a rush. Found a parking spot. Hopped out. Grabbed a few things out of the trunk. Walked a few steps and the trunk popped back open. He goes back and reshuts the trunk. A few more steps and it pops open again. Strange. He moves some things around in the trunk only to discover that he had left his car keys in the trunk the first time. Mitdenken. Nice.

Another friend flies over to Germany. A German colleague picks him up at Frankfurt Airport. They hop in a rental car. Another high end German sedan. A couple of turns and they’re on the autobahn. His colleague looks over at him with a grin on his face then presses the gas pedal to the floor. Soon they’re up to 180 km per hour, over 100 mph.

Mitdenken. About maintain control.

Traffic is only mildly heavy, but they’re quickly approaching a truck. In fact, they’re right in line to ram the truck from behind. The still-grinning German colleague keeps “the pedal to the metal.” My friend in the passenger seat – at this point pale in the face, sporting a few new gray hairs, and clutching tightly to his seat belt – mentions nervously, that the truck seems to be coming closer. Grin. The powerful German luxury sedan comes within a certain, safe distance of the truck, but no closer, even though the gas pedal remains all the way down. Mitdenken. A little scary.

Then there is the highly sophisticated German control system which makes manned monitoring of the most sensitive, and dangerous, parts of a complex manufacturing site no longer necessary. “The controls system will do the work better than people.” Although understood, trusted and implemented in Germany, the Americans feel wary of handing over final decisions and judgement to a machine. It reminded them of the computer-driven, automated trading systems once used on Wall Street which had led to some rather irrational market fluctuations. Mitdenken. More than a little scary.

Americans like intelligent products. Intelligent means keeping the user in control while making everything easier, faster, less expensive. Over-engineering is technology with questionable added value. It is technology which goes beyond the needs and desires of the customer. It is technology which is often not robust.

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.

Where Americans go into duck and cover mode, Germans see themselves in a spirited debate, perhaps an open argument or dispute, but most likely necessary in order to get clarity on an important matter.

A senior member in the German parliament meets on a Monday morning with her staff to discuss the upcoming committee work and debates in the Bundestag. She, for American ears, rips into one of her staff members, complaining about a report he had written. The other colleagues at the conference table remain still, while their colleague addresses the criticism point-for-point.

Criticism: fast, direct, hard

“Yes, I understand your dissatisfaction with how that was worked out in the committee. But if you look at my report you will see that I anticipated those questions.” He cites pages 2 and 4. The MP fires another salvo, fast and hard. Not a problem for the staffer, who is not a day older than twenty-eight. “Well, that’s not accurate, either.” He continues to explain why, cool and composed. A third salvo he deflects easily. Their boss, half-embarrassed, moves on to another topic.

Salvo: a simultaneous discharge of two or more guns in military action or as a salute; a sudden burst; a spirited attack, as in the first salvo of a political campaign.

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).

The young woman, Susan, an American, left in tears. Clearly she was inexperienced professionally. And her expectations were unrealistically high. And she had never worked for a German before.

Antje is a petite woman, with fine features, very expressive dark eyes. A perfectionist, correct in everything she does. But also warm-hearted in a quiet, considerate way. Antje wants the best for her team, especially for the younger women. She knows firsthand what it’s like to earn respect in a technology-based company run by men.

Susan had simply not met Antje’s expectations. Accordingly, their feedback discussion addressed unmet goals. Antje, not aware of how critique in the American context is best communicated, took the German approach, the only one she knows, with the only difference that the talk was in English.

Antje found Susan to be overly emotional, a bit naive about her ability, and unprepared for the discussion. At the same time, Antje saw raw potential in Susan. Her mind was quick, she worked hard, was willing to take on challenges. Antje had a plan to coach Susan along to her full potential, including getting corporate sponsorship for an evening MBA program at a well-respected university.

It wouldn’t come to be. Within a month Susan left Antje’s team, moving to a similar organization in another division. She had found Antje to be unfair and harsh.

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.

Post-merger integration. A German company acquired an American company. They had been competitors for many years, and were two of the five major players in a global market . I would serve this German company over several years, going from one organization to the other, doing my best to ensure that the two cultures first understood each other before trying to integrate their approaches.

I was in the process of conducting a Check, an audit, from Latin to listen. The Check was a series of background interviews in one of the larger organizations within the merger. It‘s the first step in supporting my clients. I have to get a read on the situation, get to know the people, the issues, the recent history. Also, it‘s important that those people know who I am, what I do, how I do it, if they are to trust, and therefore open up to me. The Check is the basis for my support.

I conducted over seventy-five interviews across five locations in Germany and the U.S., with folks at all hierarchy levels, and in all disciplines: engineering, manufacturing, supply, sales/marketing, service, etc.

A furious pace, not thought through

At the very outset I encountered something new to me. The Americans complained time and again that there German colleagues were „revisiting“ certain key strategic decisions. It was not clear to me what they meant by that term. After a while, however, it did become clear.

Unfortunately, in many post-merger integration projects the companies involved – acquirer and acquired – feel that they have to make critical strategic decisions quickly, within a certain timeframe after closing. They discuss, debate and decide at a furious pace, often without first having understood each other, how the respective companies operate, the logic behind what they actually do.

One can imagine the stress, pressure and fear involved when folks are unsure how these decisions will play out. For most of them it‘s about job security. For some of them – high-level management – it‘s about power and prestige. In the case of this client, several decisions were made which had very high impact on large organizations and their locations, literally and directly on which organization will design, develop and manufacture what products and at which locations.

Power and back-room political deal-making

Two titans were battling each other within the same, newly formed, company. It was neither healthy, nor transparent, nor particularly pretty to observe. But apparently top-level management felt the need to make such decisions quickly.

„Revisiting.“ One of those strategic decisions did not go the way the German side of the organization had hoped and expected. They were angry, hurt, shocked. From their perspective the decision was clearly the wrong one. The Germans were convinced that it had not been made based on objective, factual, rational grounds, but instead on power, clever persuasion and perhaps even back-room political deal-making.

They were not willing – or not fully willing – to accept, therefore execute the decision. Over the months, and even years, they consciously sought out ways to challenge the decision. Large, complex companies offer opportunities to delay and disrupt high-level decisions. Execution can be clear and disciplined or unclear and undisciplined.

The American colleagues felt – but could not quite prove – that their German colleagues were undermining the decision. Their term was „revisiting.“

Disrupting, or pehaps threatening, the business?

Were the Germans disobeying a strategic decision? Were they being insubordinate? Were they running the risk of severe punishment should their „revisiting“-tactics be identified, documented and attributed to specific people, whether management or subject-area experts? Was their behaviour outrageous?

These were certainly the sentiments on the American side of the company. But, did the Germans go beyond what was considered acceptable company-internal politics? Was their behavior insubordinate? Did it question the overall decision-making authority of senior management, which was jointly American and German? Were the German colleagues disrupting, or pehaps threatening, the business?

From the American perspective it was yes in each case. But from the German perspective? This story is not about where the line runs between accepting and not – or not fully – accepting a decision in two business cultures, although that is a very relevant intercultural topic. Instead, this story is about understanding how the German culture – and therefore German business culture – defines „revisiting“ a decision.

„Führen mit Auftrag“

Go to our core content on Germany-Leadership and read about the German military‘s foundational leadership principle Führen mit Auftrag. The following quotes indicate what‘s operating in the German mind when they feel that a decision is suboptimal, not workable, or just plain wrong:

„The mistakes of senior commanders are often rectified by the troops below.“ Carl von Clausewitz (1780-1831), Prussian General, author of On War.

„Sir, the King of Prussia has made you an officer of the Prussian Army, so that you know when not to obey an order!“ Prince Friedrich Karl to a Major in the Prussian Army (1870)

„In reality, the Germans owe their final victory to the enormous amount of independently-minded and innovative junior officers in all positions all the way down to the very lowest ranks.“ Russian General Woide on the Franco-Prussion War of 1870/71

„The most unfortunate officer in the field, is the one who is distracted by headquarters with daily, even hourly requests for reports on his strategy, tactics and intentions, quite often from an overly self-important junior staff officer with access to a telegraph line.“ General Helmuth Moltke, Head of the Prussian General Staff

„War demands iron discipline of troops and exceedingly tight coordination of forces. In the heat of battle, however, of highest importance are officers and soldiers trained to think and act independently and spontaneously.“ Prussian officer training manual of 1906

„ … in those cases, in which the junior-officer comes to the conclusion that his commander is no longer in a position to judge the situation, and where his order has been rendered inadequate by events, it is the expressed responsibility and duty of that junior-officer to either redefine or ignore the order.“ Prussian officer training manual of 1906

„Führen mit Auftrag is an extraordinarily broad and involved term, which includes all-encompassing aspects of current doctrine concerning the essence of war, characteristics of leadership, tactics, the leadership of troops, the relationship of senior to junior officers to each other and to soldiers, as well as training and education. In addition, these aspects are formulated systematically in a way which allows them to both mutually support each other and to make them inseparable.“ An American Army Officer (1987)

German leadership logic tolerates . . . 

This thinking is very uncommon in the American culture. In fact, it is antithetical to it. German leadership logic accepts – and in many cases expects – that people working on the tactical level either revise, in some cases reject, important decisions which they view to be suboptimal, not workable, or just plain wrong.

This is worth repeating. The German leadership logic – which is a logic shared by both those who lead and those who are being led (a shared logic) – allows for what Americans (and perhaps other cultures) would call „revisiting“ or disobeying. The Germans would not call it disobeying a decision.

Germans would say that they are doing their job, which is to interpret and then execute a decision based on their analysis of the situation „on the ground.“ In other words, they see it not only as their job, what they get paid for, but at a deeper level their duty to the company, their customers, and the communities in which these people live, to re-interpret, re-address, slow down, even block decisions which they believe are wrong.

The battle over this strategic decision

This is one reason why the German leadership logic stresses decisions, tasks, mandates, missions which are generally-formulated, which are not highly-defined, not prescriptive. This allows for room for interpretretation. This approach applies also to high-level strategic decisions.

Now certainly there were individual, surely selfish, motives involved in this particular case. Germans are people, too. From the German perspective – and the battle over this strategic decision went on for years – they had very concrete, objective, business-driven reasons for why the decison was wrong.

What was not apparent to the Americans, however, was the German leadership logic and its encouragement of analyzing and interpreting decisions critically before executing them. It goes against the cliché Americans, and many other cultures, have of the Germans as being totally disciplined in executing the order or commands handed down by their superiors.

Much of this cliché is based on American movies and documentary films focused on the Germany of the Third Reich, under the control of the National Socialists. Those portrayals, however, offer an incomplete picture, at best. In fact, the German military during the Second World War operated, as it had in all previous wars going back to the early 1800s, under the foundational leadership principle of Führen mit Auftrag, which was not top-down, command-and-control, hierarchical, but actually quite the opposite.