Game Theory in Management

Over the long New Year’s Day holiday weekend, the SyFy® channel was airing a Twilight Zone marathon, and one of the episodes caught my attention. It was entitled “Nick of Time,” and it was written by Richard Matheson. This episode dealt with a newlywed couple whose car had broken down in a small Midwestern town, and were waiting in a diner while it was being repaired. The diner’s tables had fortune-telling machines, which would push out a slip of paper with cryptic words designed to answer yes-or-no questions for a penny. 

(Spoiler Alert!) The newlywed husband (played by William Shatner) quickly realizes that the answers he is receiving are improbably accurate, and becomes fixated on the notion that the machine can predict the future. His wife (played by Patricia Breslin) pleads with him to stop; in response, he challenges her to ask the machine some yes-or-no questions, to demonstrate that it’s not just the husband’s choice of questions that is causing the phenomena of the seemingly 100% accurate penny fortune-teller. Sure enough, each of the questions that she asks where she already knows the answer is answered correctly. 

When Shatner’s character begins to almost frantically feed the machine pennies and ask questions about where the couple will live, the wife pleads with him to recognize what’s happening. She points out that they can leave the diner any time they wish (their car was repaired earlier than had been estimated, and, yes, the penny fortune-teller “foresaw” it), go wherever they want to go, and write the story of their future themselves, rather than allow the machine to do so. The husband realizes the wisdom of her words, and they leave the diner, only to have another couple immediately sit at that particular table, and, with frightened looks on their faces, begin to ask the machine questions and feed it pennies. Rod Serling’s voice over at the end is “Counterbalance in the little town of Ridgeview, Ohio. Two people permanently enslaved by the tyranny of fear and superstition, facing the future with a kind of helpless dread. Two others facing the future with confidence - having escaped one of the darker places of the Twilight Zone.” (1)

Besides the reference to “one of the darker places of the Twilight Zone,” much in this episode reminded me of current risk management theory. Oh, sure, there are some differences (risk managers don’t work for pennies), but, epistemologically speaking, the similarities are striking. Consider:
•    Both the penny fortune-telling machine and the risk manager purport to predict future events,
•    For money.
•    Their predictions are always somewhat cryptic (“The answer should be obvious” or “There is an 85% confidence interval”).
•    On top of each of the machines was a little bobble-head that looked like a devil, whereas the appearance of risk managers is…
Ha, ha! Just kidding there.  I’m sure the appearance of typical risk management-types is perfectly normal. However, their results are chillingly similar, with (at least) one major difference. In the show, the machine’s answers were improbably accurate, with a 100% confidence interval (get it?), which is why its answers were so compelling. Conversely, should a so-called risk event happen to a project that was not predicted nor pseudo-quantified in the risk analysis, their “out” is to simply assert that the event was an “unknown unknown,” which is somehow different from a “known unknown,” in that the latter was mentioned in the risk analysis. And, should the event be captured in the risk analysis, the analysts can claim that they had actually predicted it, using their Gaussian Curve-based, jargon-filled processes. Convenient, no?

So, the question I will leave my readers is this: Will you be one of the managers permanently enslaved by the tyranny of fear and superstition, facing the future with a kind of helpless dread, or will you be among those PMs facing the future with confidence, having escaped one of the darker places of… the PM Zone?

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(1)   Nick of Time (The Twilight Zone). (2016, January 2). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 20:46, January 2, 2016, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Nick_of_Time_(The_Twilight_Zone)&oldid=697844470

One of the downsides to working in the project management profession is the common occurrence of those who are convinced that their particular experience is so much more profound than their colleagues’ that they become full of criticisms for any practice that fails to comport precisely with their way of doing things. Indeed, part and parcel of their professional approach is to always have something to complain about, for if the project were to be executed entirely consistent with their wishes, and it were to go badly, they would be exposed for the pseudo-intellectuals that they are. 

Infuriatingly, these are not confined to the occasional (unfortunate) project team. I’ve been on document-generating committees that were positively thick with them, and they contributed about as much as one would expect to the final product – which is to say, virtually nothing at all. And, while I’m certain that most (all?) other professions have their fair share of this type, project management is somewhat vulnerable to them due its nature as a part of the management sciences, which are aptly categorized as “soft science.”

I found myself wondering what would happen if the other, hard sciences were to be similarly afflicted. As it turns out, they are. In Thomas Kuhn’s landmark publication The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (University of Chicago Press, 1962) he points out that, in virtually all cases where one scientific theory replaces another, those supporting the more modern, valid theory are derided, criticized, and condemned by those who embrace the existing theory. Eventually enough data is collected and presented to lead a majority of practitioners in the specific field of research to accept the newer, more valid theory, initiating a “paradigm shift” (yes, Kuhn introduced the term).

Now, stop and ask yourself – why should that be so? Why isn’t it that, at least in the hard sciences, even a single researcher who can reproduce the results that verify the authenticity of their hypothesis in an experimental setting can immediately overturn the existing, erroneously held idea, and enjoy widespread acceptance? Well, as I discuss in my upcoming book Unavoidable Hierarchy, the reasons have to do with unchanging human behavior. For the long answer, you will have to buy the book. The short answer: even with reproducible results in-hand, existing theories are difficult in the extreme to overturn – and that’s in the hard science, with, again, reproducible results in-hand.

The issues become even more difficult in the management sciences, since very few (if any) of our theories can be tested in an experimental setting. With no reproducible results either way to help settle the issues, upon what do the gadflies tend to base their assertions? If you answered personal experience, go to the head of the class.

Now, instantly, the debate becomes one of whose experience is the more profound and universal. But unless they happen to be Frodo, Samwise, Merry and Pippin, returning to the Shire after having saved Middle Earth from being converted into an Orc-infested hell-hole, I have a news flash for the Gadflies: your experience isn’t that much different from all of the ones of your colleagues’. Oh, they may have had more readily-recognizable projects or persons involved, but even that carries with it its own irony: claiming some profound PM insight from an experience on a large project only means that there were exponentially more parameters involved, parameters that couldn’t have possibly been recognized, much less quantified. In other words, the theories that the gadflies perpetrate stem from hopelessly compromised experiments.

How can you defend against the assault of the gadflies? I’m not sure you can … but you CAN do two things to deal with them: (1) learn to identify them (making strong assertions based, not on scholarship or hard data, but on personal experience is a dead give-away), and (2) avoid becoming one of them. And all that takes is a little humility.
 

Scene 1: A conference room, circa 2015, with a project team seated around a long table.
Tim (the PM): Okay, folks, things have been going largely as expected so far, but I think we need to change our approach, based on some recent observations.
Mark: If it’s working, why should we change it?
Tim (rolling his eyes): You’re new at this project management stuff, Mark, but when you’ve been around as long as I have, you learn to tap into the insights of stakeholders.
Alice: Which stakeholders?
Tim: A combination of our vendors, plus some people who were holding signs about our project, and were protesting just outside the building.
Mark: Wait, what? We’re using advice from people who don’t want our project to succeed?
Alice (shouting): They’re STAKEHOLDERS, Mark! They have a right to be heard!
Mark: I’m not saying we should shut them up, I’m just questioning the reasoning behind using their advice for project decision-making.
Tim (sighs): Everyone knows that all stakeholders must be listened to, Mark, or else we wouldn’t be doing project management correctly!
Peter: You’re not forgetting my input, are you, Tim?
Tim: Of course not, Peter. Any project that is managed correctly has lots of input from the Risk Manager.
Peter: Based on my analysis, we need to set aside 20% of the project’s budget for contingency events.
Mark: 20%? We don’t have more than 5% in reserves – and the only way to come up with the other 15% would be to cut scope!
Peter: Then we’ll have to cut scope.
Mark: By 15%? What, specifically, do you intend to cut? 
Peter: Perhaps we can take a few points from each Work Package.
Mark: Tim just got done saying we’re performing at even! The Work Package managers don’t have any margin to give back! Besides, percentages aren’t cumulative – in order to get to 15% across the board, then each WP will have to give back that much.
Tim: Nevertheless, we’ll send out a memo, directing the WP Managers to send more to the reserves.
Mark: Dare I ask about what kind of analysis was performed that has led to such drastic actions?
Peter: A Monte Carlo analysis has indicated, with an 85% confidence interval, that we will need 20% reserves to cover predicted difficulties.
Mark: Did this analysis take into account a scenario where the Work Package Managers are suddenly and capriciously deprived of 15% of their budgets?
Peter: No, but we can re-calculate, based on that scenario.
Mark: Is any of this based on documented research, or testable hypotheses?
Tim (sighing): No, Mark, but you will eventually learn that involving stakeholders and integrating risk management is key to all project success.

Scene 2: A town hall, circa 1515, with some local farmers seated around a long table.
Tim (the town’s agricultural director): Okay, folks, we’ve largely done okay over the past dozen or so growing seasons, but for the one coming up we’ll have to change some things.
Mark: If it’s working, why should we change it?
Tim (rolling his eyes): You’re new at this managed agriculture stuff, Mark, but when you’ve been around as long as I have, you learn to tap into the insights of stakeholders.
Alice: Which stakeholders?
Tim: A combination of our landowners, plus some people who were objecting to our crop selections, and were protesting just outside the building.
Mark: Wait, what? We’re using advice from people who don’t want our farms to succeed?
Alice (shouting): They’re STAKEHOLDERS, Mark! They have a right to be heard!
Mark: I’m not saying we should shut them up, I’m just questioning the reasoning behind using their advice for crop selection-making.
Tim (sighs): Everyone knows that all stakeholders must be listened to, Mark, or else we wouldn’t be doing agricultural management correctly!
Peter: You’re not forgetting my input, are you, Tim?
Tim: Of course not, Peter. Any farm that is managed correctly has lots of input from the animal observers.
Peter: Based on my observations of the groundhogs, we need to plant about 20 days earlier this year.
Mark: 20 days? We can’t afford to be more than 5 days too early, or else we’re risking the seedlings getting frozen, and ruined!
Peter: Then we’ll have to plant freeze-resistant crops.
Mark: What if “freeze resistant” crops don’t yield enough foodstuffs?  What crops, specifically, do you intend to supplant? 
Peter: Perhaps we can plant a wide variety.
Mark: Tim just got done saying we’re producing the right amount! The various farmers don’t have any margin to diversify! Besides, diverse crops aren’t necessarily freeze resistant – in order to match last year’s production, we’ll have to plant at least as much of the proven crops as we did then.
Tim: Nevertheless, we’ll send out a town crier, directing the farmers to diversify.
Mark: Dare I ask about what kind of analysis was performed that has led to such drastic actions?
Peter: My observations of groundhogs indicate that, if it sees its shadow on February 2, then harsh conditions will continue for another six weeks of freezes – otherwise, it’s safe to plant early.
Mark: Did this analysis take into account a scenario where the groundhog casts a shadow, but doesn’t happen to look down?
Peter: No, but we can re-calculate, based on that scenario.
Mark: Is any of this based on documented research, or testable hypotheses?
Tim (sighing): No, Mark, but you will eventually learn that diversifying crops and integrating groundhog behavior is key to all agricultural success.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” (Les Guepes, 1849)
 

An unfortunate tendency I have encountered in many project controls analyst is that of insisting on a high level of rigor in the setup of their cost and schedule performance systems, as if such information streams must be difficult in the extreme to generate and operate, lest they be found wanting. This approach goes well beyond my previous distinctions drawn, between Processors and Effectives (quick recap: Processors are happy if every policy statement concerning project management is followed to the letter, and care less about actual project success or failure; Effectives seek project success, and don’t care much for formal policy guidance). To highlight the problems with the if-it’s-not-hard-it’s-wrong approach, I want to take a look at the animated situation comedy The Jetsons.

The Jetsons aired in the 1960s, and featured a futuristic family headed by George Jetson. George worked (will work?) at Spacely Space Sprockets where, if each episode’s opening is to be believed, his job is to press a single button, and then recline in his office chair. The red button turns on and off the Referential Universal Digital Indexer (R.U.D.I.)[1] , a job that, for unexplained reasons, George is able to do in a far superior manner than any other person. For this “work,” George apparently receives sufficient income for he and his wife and two children to live extremely well (by 21st Century standards, anyway).

Meanwhile, back here in the last weeks of 2015, earning a good income from extreme minimal effort is quite a trick (please, no comments on politicians), particularly in the PM world. Although it would certainly be nice to be so smart, educated, experienced and wise as to have droves of project team members lining up to hear pearls of wisdom about Work Breakdowns Structures, Critical Path Methodology, and Configuration Management tumble from our lips, the reality is something quite different. Many (if not most) projects are awarded after a bid process, and proposing the lowest bid is often the determining factor. Lowest bids rarely have the padding or reserves available for consulting with self-identified experts who like to pretend that they are the only ones who can casually push the critical buttons. 

Before my readers jump to the conclusion that this does not happen within their project teams, consider: each and every time two PM “experts” get into a discussion, or argument, about what they believe to be the proper way of doing PM, it is not free. This discussion is taking place among two or more professionals who are billing the project for their time. Litmus Test: the next time such a discussion takes place, inform the arguers that they can’t bill for the amount of time it takes to resolve the difficulty. My bet is that the issue evaporates.

Indeed, if an Effective is in charge, the very notion that one’s expertise or education should carry the argument whenever a disagreement arises is probably going to be depressed; instead, whomever can generate the deliverable on-time and on-budget will tend to get the work, billable time and all. If, on the other hand, a Processor happens to be in charge, the Insipid Debate Society can – and will – dominate the project’s landscape, wasting time, effort, and budget.

Which brings us back to philanthropy. If philanthropy can be defined as the act of making life a little easier for those whom we perceive to be going through a tough stretch, then wouldn’t the PM version be to make our crucial information streams as easy as possible to effectively implement? And, if that’s the case, wouldn’t that make those who insist on an absurdly high level of rigor in the installation of such systems – the chronic debaters among us – the very opposite of charitable?

In short, if George Jetson and his coworkers are convinced that he is uniquely qualified to turn on and off the RUDI, just as the PM experts are convinced that all of their standards must be met prior to performance measurement system startup, they might all want to avoid putting those assumptions to the test.

  (1)The Jetsons. (2015, December 12). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 02:47, December 13, 2015, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=The_Jetsons&oldid=694864376

I must confess that, when I saw December’s them of PM Philanthropy, the term itself struck me as a contradiction, much like “Now, then…,” or “Instant classic.”  Of course, the goal of project management is to complete the work on-time, on-budget, to the customers’ complete satisfaction in terms of quality, reliability, etc. But certainly there’s an undercurrent to PM, one of doing those things better than competing organizations. I think that’s a major draw to projectmanagement.com, reader attention being paid to glean the insight and information that allows our organizations to do PM better than our less-intellectually-curious counterparts. How does philanthropy fit in to this mix?

To find the answer we need only look back in time to observe the eventual outcomes of other management science innovations that led to an enrichment of a broad swath of organizations beyond the original innovators. For example, there’s some debate about whether or not Henry Ford truly introduced the assembly line concept on a large scale (Ransom Olds actually patented the process [1] ), but there’s little doubt that Ford’s success in using it popularized it on such a large scale that its primary alternative – creating manufactured goods by hand – has become the exception in 2015. And, while Ford reaped the initial benefits, the widespread adoption of the assembly line technique revolutionized not only the automobile industry, but manufacturing in general, so that most manufactured goods became cheaper, more widely available, and of higher and more consistent quality. Eventually, everyone benefited from this management science innovation.

Prior to the 1870s, only the rich could afford the whale oil or candles to keep their homes lit at night – most people would simply retire once the sun set. After John D. Rockefeller advanced better oil drilling, extracting, and refinement techniques, kerosene became so cheap that keeping homes or business lit after dark became viable for almost everybody [2]. Of course Standard Oil benefited handsomely in the near-term; but, eventually, everybody’s standard of living was significantly raised.

These two are dramatic and extreme examples, but the pattern repeats itself over and over: a management science innovation is developed, and aired out in the free marketplace of ideas. Sooner or later a company or economic concern adopts (or adapts) the hypothesis, and puts it to the test in the real world, where it either works outright, works after some tweaking, or flat-out fails. Unfortunately, the free market economy is a hopelessly complex (I would even argue chaotic) environment, and these hypotheses are extremely difficult to evaluate in clear-cut causality analyses. Sometimes valid ideas are used and the organization fails, and other times invalid ideas are adopted but somehow become associated with repeatable success. 

Which brings us back to project management and philanthropy. The basics of project management, like the assembly line, have been proven to give a competitive edge to the project teams that employ them, and on a consistent basis. Projectmanagement.com and the Project Management Institute® aren’t popular because they offer titillating click-bait ads on the right-hand margins of social media sites – they’re popular because the serve as a crucible for burning away marginal ideas and business practices, helping to point the way to the best techniques for bringing in the project’s scope on-time and on-budget, and, yes, to do so better than your company’s (or even your project team’s) competitors. The now-familiar pattern re-emerges, and project work on a broad scale begins to be performed better, benefitting many, many more people than had originally profited from adopting the innovative practices. 

And that benefiting of the macroeconomic society as a whole, my fellow project managers, is how PM Philanthropy is truly expressed.
 

  (1)Assembly line. (2015, November 30). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 20:33, December 6, 2015, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Assembly_line&oldid=693187355.
 (2) http://fee.org/freeman/john-d-rockefeller-and-the-oil-industry/, retrieved December 6, 2015, 14:07 MST.