Beyond Memories #7: Reaching out

As my earlier posts suggest, Andy Grove was in my field of vision from my very first days at Intel onward.  But I was always surprised when I appeared in his sights. I was just one of more than 30,000 employees.  Although I’m confident that I made a contribution to Intel, I am also aware I wasn’t in the same league as the many truly brilliant, more relevant, and highly technical (mostly) men at Intel during those years.   

 Intel women execs circa 1999

So imagine my surprise that he not only remembered me long after my departure from Intel, but reached out in the most touching and surprising way.

My father died in 2004, three years after I left Intel. Within a week, I received a remarkable email from Andy.  I have no idea how he could have even known about my father's’ passing, and I can’t seem to find the note, but I remember the gist.

Sam Konar

Andy didn't just send his condolences, he helped me understand my loss. He wrote that from personal experience, it is devastating to experience the loss of a parent, particularly when it means becoming an orphan. Whatever your age, losing that last parent leaves you truly adrift, anchorless. After not seeing one another in at least three years, he had reached out and provided an especially meaningful encoding of my utter despair.    

Andy had met my father,  just once and briefly, when we were all in New York for an Intel investor event. But did Andy somehow know that my father was a looming presence throughout my life?  Did he know that my father had lived through through the Holocaust, immigrated to a new country and there built a second life, career and family from nothing? Did he identify with my father, who like himself, had always embraced opportunities rather seeing himself a victim of a horrific past?

Perhaps he recognized and remembered him as a fellow “Swimmer” extraordinaire. Or maybe he saw in me the child of a survivor and understood my ground zero. 

In any event, I’ll always remember Andy and my father as two extraordinary individuals, who although often rough and seemingly callous, cared deeply, challenged directly, and navigated with purpose.  

 

Final Lesson from the Grove senior management course at Intel:

• It’s difficult to displace a successful technology brand - it requires a revolutionary breakthrough, or a serious misstep.    Only the paranoid survive.  

Beyond Memories #6: The Princess and the Boulder

Andy Grove was well known for his “paranoia”, and particularly his fear that success could make him (and Intel) complacent.  Circa 1995, he saw proof positive of just that right outside his cubicle window: a half-filled employee parking lot at 8:30AM.  

Intel employees were “wandering in” at 8:30 or even 9:00 -- long past the 8:00 start time that had been an Intel staple for more than two decades.  The crisis needed to be addressed, and when his senior management team did not turn the problem around fast enough, Andy took matters into his own hands. He reinstated a mandatory, no exception, 8:0AM start time throughout what was now a very global company.

I had heard murmurings about the upcoming policy change, but was nevertheless apoplectic when I heard the actual news.  On a flight to the far east on a Saturday afternoon, I crafted a note to Intel’s Darth Vader.  How could a self proclaimed meritocracy like Intel consider a mandatory start time? 

How could Intel care about when I arrived at the headquarters building,  as long as I was getting results?  How could they, or more specifically he, not take into account the early morning hours at home when I spoke with my colleagues in Europe, or the late night conversations with those in the East?  

How could he not understand that this mean that I, and doubtless thousands of other women (and men) would no longer be able to take their children to school in the morning, talk with other parents and their teachers?

This was an arbitrary, capricious, and deleterious invocation of Grove and Intel’s seemingly blind commitment to  “discipline” over all other principles:  results orientation, great place to work, service to the customer etc.  

Those with more Intel experience, counseled me to let it go.  Get on board or get out.  Andy would never change his mind on this one.  Except of course there was that legendary tale of Andy changing heart re: his edict of “no showers at intel”.    I thought that if I had any hopes of rolling back the new policy, I would have to take on Andy Grove directly.   

I thought in terms of a Kamikaze run.  Although I knew one could disagree with Andy without dire consequences, I knew that if I didn’t make him understand, I would look become an uncontrollably insubordinate.  I would certainly “lose it”, and quit or be fired.  

Andy and I had our first run-ins on the subject over email.  I told him that he didn’t get it, and he didn’t really understand what it meant to lead a meritocracy.  He told me I was behaving like the Princess and the Pea.  I told him I couldn’t get my mattress around this boulder.  I told him the reinstatement of the 8:00AM in-office requirements would be as effective as IBM’s return to red ties and pinstripe suits had been (not very!).

After several days of email jabs, Andy proposed an in-person meeting with clear guidelines  e.g. in public, he got 50% of the airtime etc.  Those guidelines were quickly abandoned as I lost it, and my dignity and self respect in the process.  I didn’t quit or get fired.  But within days,  I got got called in to see Craig Barrett.  As the COO and disciplinarian and quasi enforcer (and likely co-conspirator if not instigator of the 8:00AM mandate I was railing against), Craig seemed unswayed by my arguments.  I again contemplated options beyond Intel.  

To my astonishment Intel soon announced a policy change, making start times the prerogative of employees and their management. Even more amazing, I got one of the legendary “Andygram”s --  a personal handwritten note from Grove.  In it was an apology for the decision and the way the matter had been handled.

Sadly, I no longer have that note.   I do have the sense that sometimes even hysteria doesn’t undermine a good argument made to an open-minded listener.  More importantly, the best and the brightest are open to compelling arguments, ready to learn and even change course.

To this day, I wear the mantra of “The Princess and the Pea/Boulder” as well as the title Intel Fellow, a position I was appointed to about two years after this incident.  This is a pic of the Intel women execs (and fellow) from ~1998

Beyond Memories #5 Grove's brutal honesty and humor

Beyond Memories #5

I came to Intel as an individual contributor, but left the ‘proprietor’ of an incredible team of researchers and strategic marketers.  Developing a team is never easy. The hard part starts, but certainly doesn’t end with recruiting.  Sometimes, I was able to find amazing folks within intel (e.g. RD).  Other times, I was able to find external candidates who would prove exceptional contributors, who would build a “home” and  “family” at Intel, for at least some part of their extraordinary careers (e.g. JT, FJ).

One particular attempt comes to mind as I think back to the many times and ways I learned from Andy Grove.  I had a lunch interview scheduled with a candidate from another technology company.  We went down to the cafeteria, chose our food, and stood in line to pay (yes, there was a day and a type of technology company that did not offer free lunch, much less dinner or breakfast). Suddenly, behind me in line at the cashier, stood Andy Grove.  When he asked if I had any lunch plans, I let him know I was interviewing a candidate.   Andy was not dissuaded.  He asked:

“Can I join you?”

“I gguuuesss soo” I replied.

Once outside of Andy’s earshot, I gave the candidate a heads-up and apology for our unexpected lunch guest.  

We hadn’t done more than set our trays on the table before Andy chided me, referring to the candidate: “One more for your minions?”

There were about six entry level market researchers on my team at the time, hardly minions, I argued back.  At this point, in an attempt to argue his point, Andy began reciting the first and last names of the six individuals on my team. Understand, I reported to a first line manager, who reported to the head of a small central marketing group, who reported to a senior vice president, who finally reported to Grove. That made Andy their 5th line manager.  Although I’m not sure who if any he had met or whose work he had seen, Andy knew every market researcher’s name.   

Not one to hold back with anyone, Grove kicked off "my" interview with the candidate with a simple question about the candidate’s current company.  The response could best be described as a rambling and hardly coherent commentary on the company and its business model.   I knew instantaneously that this candidate would not join our “minions”.  We continued our lunch and I headed up stairs. When I ran into my manager some 30 minutes later, he already had a “message” from Andy:  

“Make sure she doesn’t hire the turkey.”

I had to chuckle.  Andy had been decisive and brutally honest, but this time and many other times, his sense of humor softened the blow.  There would not be one more for my “minions” this time around.  

One more learning from the course that Grove and Burgelman taught at Intel

• Organizations rarely define quantitative objectives for a strategy, making business outcomes the sole basis for refinement

Beyond Memoris #4: Decision Making

As early as 1991, Intel embraced the PC user as ultimate consumer and arbiter of PC technology. This was somewhat surprising for a PC (vs. Mac) world company, and even more so for a chip maker. The strategy was at the heart of the Intel Inside program, which funded PC advertising that contributed heavily to the adoption S curve, and into which Intel invested billions.  

It often came to my research “minions” (see encounter #2) to understand potential PC "consumers", what would and would not interest various segments, to inform Intel decision making.  We tested everything from TV ads to product concepts.  One day, the head of engineering asked us to test an idea he and his team had been working on that he thought could revolutionize the PC industry and Intel’s business model.  It could very well be the next disruptive innovation.

I had some hesitation that this was a request for ‘research to make a point’ vs. ‘research to make a decision’, a distinction often articulated by my always astute colleague, Karen Alter.  With assurances to the contrary, we proceeded with research design, data collection and finally, analysis.  When the results suggested that the proposal was at odds with consumer wants and needs at the time, we ran a conceptual replication to be certain the results were not a fluke.  But still the research suggested that in the eyes of consumers, this strategy would be a leap in the wrong direction.  The strategy offered consumers complexity when they longed for simplicity.  

In those days, projects of this magnitude were subjected to three hour Group Strategic Reviews (GSRs).  Senior vice presidents generally presented; Andy Grove and the rest of the management team presided, debated and made a decision on whether and how to proceed.  The session on this project started with a basic proposal that included the objectives and the requirements: time, $, staffing.  The head of engineering then summarized the research findings.  

At that point, Andy Grove stopped the presenter in his tracks.

“Let me get this straight. This is going to require five years of heavy engineering, X millions if not billions in development costs, and consumers are not just uninterested, they are actively opposed to the outcome?  Moreover if I understand the proposal, it destroys our current business model and offers no feasible alternative.”

Despite the ensuing protestations to the contrary, Andy was clear that he and the management team had the data it needed to make an informed decision. He polled the team, who agreed that the project should be killed. He looked at his watch, noted that it was just 10 minutes into a three hour meeting, and expressed his hope that everyone around the table could enjoy the newly found two hours and fifty minutes in their schedule.  

Andy paid more attention to information than claims, even when the claims were offered by incredible technologists who he respected.  He was decisive and understood opportunity as well as costs.  He valued his and other people’s time, so that when a decision could be made, it was.   

In this case, his behavior was a demonstration of another learning from his management class, blindingly obvious but nevertheless prescient:

• Consider the consequences of accomplishing a strategic goal -- will success achieve the intended results?

Beyond Memories #3: Making time.

Encounters with Grove #3: Making time.

During many of my years at Intel, the route from my cube to the nearest restroom intersected with Andy’s. One day, In my rush to the goal, I nearly crashed into Andy.  I apologized and tried to move on.  He stopped me cold.  

"Where's the fire?  Why do I always see you rushing around?" He asked.

The answer seemed obvious to me.  Intel meetings started on the hour and ended on the hour, but being late was a cardinal sin. Moving fast was a requirement, especially if you wanted to make a phone call, or stop at the restroom.

As I explained the obvious, Andy snatched my day's printed calendar from my hands and blankly stared at the hourly entries that started at 8:00 a.m. and ran through 5:00 p.m.  In exchange,  he handed me his little black calendar book, with its hand-written entries.  Astonishingly, there were more blanks than meeting entries in the hourly slots.

I’m not sure what Andy said at that moment, but I remember his look of utter disdain. I got the message. If being the CEO of a $20 billion company didn't require back to back meetings, how could mine? In fact, it occurred to me rather quickly that scheduling back to back meetings was not just unnecessary, it was counterproductive. High output management means exercising discretion in scheduling meetings and blocking time off to do other types of work.

The Andy look of disdain comes to mind now and then, and I am reminded of how much is in my control. My calendar is my calendar and more is less, less is more.

There was a corollary to that lesson that Andy provided some 8 years later. Now chairman of the board, but no longer CEO, I saw Andy in that very same aisle. We spoke for a few minutes about the shift, and whether he was still working as much as ever. Without hesitation, he reported he was now working 26.4 hours per week. Startled at the specificity, I attempted to chide him a bit.  

"Once a numbers guy, always a numbers guy."

His response: "You can't manage what you don't measure". The data geek in me smiled ear to ear.

Which brings me to another somewhat relevant learning from Andy's Senior Management Class. (From the final class handout).

• Strategies which are not leveraged by sufficient resources are unlikely to succeed, regardless of their brilliance

Beyond Memories #2: Asking for feedback

Beyond Memories #2: Asking for feedback

Andy Grove taught a class at the Stanford Graduate School of Business for much of his tenure as CEO of Intel.  Shortly after I started working at Intel, but long before I came to know Andy, I took advantage of his offer to allow two Intel employees to attend each class.  I sat at the back of the lecture hall, next to two other guests, one of whom I recognized as another highly regarded silicon valley CEO.  The class was an engaging, provocative and incredibly insightful discussion of an IBM case that covered the period during during which I had worked at IBM.  I had to practically sit on my hands to avoid the temptation to get directly involved in the discussion.  

When the class was over, I stood up, energized to go back to Intel and get to work.  But there was Andy:

“What did you think?” he asked.  

I assumed he was talking to CEO on my right, or the woman on my left.  But, not so -- he was talking to me.  I blurted out a few platitudes, and managed to thank him for allowing me and the other Intel employees to attend these sessions, and headed back to the office.

On the way home, I considered Andy’s challenges to the Stanford students: e.g. had IBM focused on the right things at the right time?  What did they/we not see coming?  How might they/we have responded to early indications of the vast disruptions ahead?  I began to wonder why Andy was teaching the class at Stanford, and not at Intel.  We at Intel had similar issues and needed to be thinking like this.

Shortly after I got back to the office, there was Andy in my cubicle.  “What did you really think?”, he asked.   Replaying my thoughts in the drive over, I told him it was a great class. It made me think more clearly about the challenges at Intel.  But with the chutzpah that often takes over my mouth, I asked why was he teaching the class at Stanford and not at Intel.   

“It wouldn’t work”, “Employees wouldn’t take it seriously,” “I don’t have time for that” he replied.  

I countered that it wouldn’t take much of his time.  The materials were prepared.  I’d be his teaching assistant and take all administrative responsibility.  He  would just have to show up and do the teaching (Q & A style) just as he did at Stanford.  It would be just as much, if not more fun to provoke his employees as it was the students.  

“No, not worth it,” said  Andy as he stomped off toward his own cube (yes his workspace was a cube like everyone else’s).  My first direct interaction with my CEO and I had angered him!

But at 8:15 the next morning when I arrived, there was Andy, waiting.  “Is your offer still good?” he asked astonishingly.  

Thrilled, I instantly agreed.  Within 2 months, there he was, provoking Intel senior managers, drawing parallels between the cases and Intel issues past and present.  

Andy asked for feedback from someone he didn’t know (me) and had no particular reason to respect.  He brushed off my initial accolades.  He pushed for more. He listened to the answer.   He bluntly disagreed.  Upon reflection, he changed his view, and came to agree with an alternative analysis and recommendation.  He allowed someone else to take responsibility, and run with it.  He ultimately gave it his all, and helped to develop a cohort of Intel managers.  I remember some of the learnings, as well as the critiques and the support I received during the class (where I did participate), and I still hold dear the course materials of that class some twenty years later.  

Here are 2 highlights from the list of ‘class learnings’:

• Strategy is what an organization does, not what it says
• Organizational dissonance, often the result of autonomous behavior at the boundaries of an organization, is a strategy driver

Beyond Memories: Encounters with Andy Grove

Beyond Memories:  Encounters with Andy Grove  

1) The Andy I was promised

This story about Andy Grove doesn’t actually include Andy.  It describes the Andy I was led to expect during my Intel interview. It depicts an Andy I came to know (and adore) over the next decade at Intel and well beyond.

The year was 1991.  I was interviewing for a basic market research role with the newly minted company marketing team at Intel led by Dennis Carter (an amazing man in his own right). My last interview of the day was with “KT”. KT asked how I thought I would fit in at Intel, known but not always admired for its strong and often aggressive culture.  Asked to describe that culture, KT suggested, somewhat apologetically, that it was a lot like the Army.  “How so?” I asked, scanning the room for the nearest exit sign.  

“Well”, he said, “imagine that it’s 6:30 after a long day of work.  You suddenly find Andy Grove in your cubicle, screaming at you about how you’ve “fucked it up”.  

“Wait”, I asked - “Andy Grove, the CEO of 24,000 person company knows what I’ve done?”  

“Yes”

“He wants to talk to me about it?”

“Yes”

“He doesn’t summon me to his office but instead comes to talk to me in my own cube?”  

“Yes”

“Is he right about what happened?

Yes.  

“Is he ‘right’ because he’s the CEO or because he’s really right?”

“He’s really right, alot.”

“Do I get to fix it or do I get fired”?  

“Oh, you get to fix it alright.”

“Hmm… is that really what the Army is like?” I thought with incredulity, curiosity, and admiration.

My reaction was driven by my prior 10 year stint at IBM, Intel’s partner at the time.  At IBM headquarters in Armonk NY, the CEO had his own entrance, own elevator, own dining room, own bathroom, own conference room.  Despite my working just one floor below him at for several years, he certainly did not know who I was or what I did, although I prepared reports for him on a regular basis.  

Then there was Andy.   Andy always knew who did what.  He set a very high bar.  When he found your work lacking, he cared enough to demand more.  I never saw him bitch about anyone when they were not present. He was brutally honest and challenged directly.   He listened intently to anything that might change his assessment.  He could be convinced otherwise.  But if you didn't deliver, Andy would expect and in fact made sure you fixed it, no matter who you were.  This is how he treated the people who worked in the cafeteria as well as his senior vice presidents.   

If you weren’t scared sh*tless by Andy’s volume and tone, you learned something important every time you were in a room with Andy.  He made clear that he expected and trusted you to come through. You did and he appreciated it.