No stray dogs allowed
There is a little park down the road from where my parents live in Greece.
It’s very cute. It has trees and swings and a seesaw. Benches and a little bird bath with no birds in it. And it has a sign that clearly and determinedly states ‘no stray dogs allowed’.
I cannot tell you how much I love this sign. How many times I have imagined a stray mutt trotting up to the gate to the park, looking up at the sign and sighing when it realises it is not welcome there.
“Better go somewhere else,” the stray thinks to itself.
Because if you are a literate dog, surely you will also be sign-abiding, right? You are not going to go to all the trouble of going to dog school and learning how to read signs, only to then ignore them. No way.
I have had many a moment of merriment thinking about this over the years.
Only, walking past the sign and having a chuckle isn’t the only time I think of this sign.
Oh no.
‘No stray dogs allowed’ is a phrase I find myself muttering a lot. Usually in frustration or abject bafflement.
If we have worked together, you have, in all likelihood, heard me say it.
You know when a company has these intensely… enthusiastic values? When they advertise integrity and diversity, fairness and God knows what else. On the wall. On their website. In the employee handbook. Just… it’s not shown in anyone’s behaviour. It’s not shown in how people lead… act… or are managed.
Or when a company that has turned clipping its employees’ wings into a fine art… and it finds ever-elaborate and convoluted reasons why they can’t possibly change this policy, this system, this way of working… that company speaks about their innovative DNA in their annual report?
Or when a company that has fallen short of its product roadmap deliverables time and again announces partnerships with random third parties to fill the airwaves in the hope that nobody will ask, “Wait… what will those guys plug into if you haven’t built that part yet?”
Look. I get it.
You are in that company. You work in product or HR. You are in sales or marketing. You are a delivery lead or a country manager.
You are trying to do a good job, the best job you can. But not everything is in your gift.
Maybe putting words out there will shame the rest of the organisation into action, right? Maybe creating the promise will inspire the action… right?
Actually… wrong.
The thing is, remember the little park down the road from my parents?
It’s designed for little kids mostly, and of course you don’t want stray dogs there. For cleanliness and security. And in a place like Athens, stray dogs are a consideration. There’s loads of them. They are everywhere. So thinking about the stray dogs is right. Someone did their research. Someone thought this through.
Someone knew what the right outcome looked like: a park with no stray dogs in it.
The problem is, falling short of the desired outcome having clearly identified what it is… through sheer lack of effort… is so much worse than if the little park had no sign and no fence, no pronouncements as to its intent to being a stray-free zone and no moat around the sandpit.
How did they fail so miserably?
Frankly, by not trying.
So, some hapless minion in the municipality was asked to secure the space from dogs. Or maybe the mayor made the promise to the local PTA. Protect our children from stray dogs.
Valid.
What happened next?
Who knows?
Maybe the person given the task didn’t know better, didn’t care and was not supervised.
Maybe all the money that was meant to go into fencing the park was spent somewhere else.
Maybe the person behind the sign doesn’t care about little children.
Maybe they are stupid, maybe they are malicious, maybe they are indifferent.
It is actually irrelevant what they are or why they did what they did.
What matters is that having thought about the stray dog problem, they put up a sign and thought to themselves ‘that will do’.
Dogs can’t read, you see… I know… it’s a shock. But it is true.
So the sign is as effective at protecting the space as a chocolate teapot.
But they did their part, right?
Just remember that story next time you show me your isolated, low-impact initiative and expect me to celebrate your transformation milestones with you.
Remember the story next time you speak to me about your ambitious AI strategy pointing to a report (a glossy one though, I will give you that) while your mainframes are humming merrily in the background.
Remember the story just in case I mutter, “Oh, that’s lovely. Very interesting. And no stray dogs allowed.”
#LedaWrites
Leda Glyptis is FinTech Futures’ resident thought provocateur – she leads, writes on, lives and breathes transformation and digital disruption.
She is a recovering banker, lapsed academic and long-term resident of the banking ecosystem.
Leda is also a published author – her first book, Bankers Like Us: Dispatches from an Industry in Transition, is available to order here.
All opinions are her own. You can’t have them – but you are welcome to debate and comment!
Follow Leda on X @LedaGlyptis and LinkedIn.