It has been a common consulting situation since the advent of the PC. A firm served well by an entry-level package has outgrown it. The owner has a vague suspicion that the problem is going to be expensive and messy, but says only, "Why don't you take a look and see what you think about how we're doing things in IT?"

With this ringing endorsement in hand, I marched into the organization. I was happy to learn that one fellow in purchasing and another in materials management actually expected my visit. The other introductions I had to manage on my own.

"You're who?"

"Nobody told me you were coming."

"Is there some reason you're not wearing a regular company badge?"

"Are you here to write that custom report I asked for in 1988?"

As if these clues weren't enough, I realized that it wasn't too late for me to work my workflow magic because several times during the day, the switchboard operator broadcast this advisory: "We are going to post now. Everyone please get out of the (product name) software within the next three minutes." The word "post" seemed to have been uttered with particular distaste.

For two months, with what I like to think is characteristic thoroughness and genuine interest, I went through facets of information systems for purchasing, accounting, distribution requirements, shipping and receiving.

Finally, the moment of truth arrived. I'd be crisp, direct, to the point. Insistent, but not threatening. Authoritative, but ready to patiently field objections. I would start with a few leading questions, then move to a summary of the most important findings.

"Perhaps you could help me with something," I said to the owner. "I would like to understand why the buyers think the really important purchases — the ones with strategic partners, with the biggest dollar volumes, make-or-break buys — are completely out of their control. That those decisions are just as likely to be criticized by management as to be rewarded for doing their job well."

"Buyers, huh? Please tell me what does this have to do with our information systems?" the owner asked.

"It's not just the buyers. In following transactions through the organization, I find that this point of view is pervasive. Each department is content to develop its own methods, standards, even databases. They feel there's no need to utilize information from other departments, or to provide any to other departments, because they're basically on their own," I replied.

"I still don't see what this has to do with information systems. That's what I hired you to look at it," he said.

"Wouldn't you want to know if you were experiencing a 20 percent loss of productivity because various departments are redundantly re-entering the same information, in slightly different forms, for their own use?" I asked.

"So?" he replied.

"The productivity gains which ought to stem from automation aren't happening because the incentives for teamwork and cooperation aren't in place. Replacing your enterprise resource planning system isn't going to fix that," I said.

"Very well. Tell me what you think I should do about it," he said.

Here was my opportunity. I took an extra moment to gather my thoughts. "You've done a great job providing for IT during those years of meteoric success. You've been able to build an ERP infrastructure almost without realizing that the process was underway. But as you've grown larger ... "

At that moment the phone rang, "Hang on a minute," he said. He leaned back in his tall leather swivel chair and gazed through a spacious window looking over a carefully manicured industrial park lawn. "But you said they'd be there. BE THERE, you said." He raised his voice. I thought, this must be the voice he uses on purchasing when he disagrees with terms of a contract they've just negotiated.

"I mean, do you think I would have invited you to this event if you weren't bringing them along with you?" He paused for effect. "No way, buddy. You find a way to bring them or else do me the favor of losing your way driving to the course AND the party." He hung up and swung his chair back around to face me.

"You were saying?"

I tried to find a logical place to resume my thread. I was still processing his end of the phone conversation. I wasn't sure about the details, but I don't think he was planning an APICS dinner meeting. Something needed to be said about employee empowerment and how that fits into IT.

But before I could begin, his phone rang again.

"Yeah, we can use the same caterer. They were great last year. At least Lisa thought so. You know that I'm happy when Lisa is happy. I'm not sure about the others, but she'll be there. I made sure of that."

I wasn't rude, and we didn't come to blows. More words were exchanged between this consultant and his client, but happily they have settled into the dust of personal memory. The client has purportedly gone on to happier days with a new client/server product which he'd been eyeing before he ever brought me in. Clients have a way of obfuscating the textbook order of things, especially where business process reengineering is concerned.

The professional canon of ethics doesn't apply to customers. They are always right, especially when planning a party. No consultant is indispensable, or even a passable substitute for a good caterer.

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