Dangerous Crossroads, or How to Avoid Collisions with Finance

Abstract

We industrial researchers work at a dangerous crossroads, the nexus of science and money. R&D leaders, being more or less senior players, are perhaps most comfortable on the Science Road. This road is storied, long, varied, full of side shows, a wonderful bazaar of curiosity where insight as to What Might Be can advance us from stage to stage. For most of us, it has been and is a road of delight of the mind. Its length, expressed as mental travel, demands that we commit to it for many years, and so we seek patient leadership that knows that the product pipeline-our output-is variable at best. It's a long way between gas stations on this road. The intersecting road, that of money, is essentially discontinuous. Potholes and washouts on that route have terminal consequences, and seasons last three months at a time. Travelers on that road move between famine and feast, traps and snares, events of unexpected bounty and windfall. However, they can't carry it with them, and every three months or so, the gain or loss has to be recognized and surrendered to the toll collectors. Money Road travelers' survival depends on their last balance. In industrial work, the Money Road people deal with abstract statements of success or failure, and are responsible for the currently visible state of the firm. They tend to become our bosses, and they have a fairly short life expectancy. When our bosses come up empty on fuel on the Money Road, the rules under which Science Road folks work change fast. If we want continuity of experience for our people and their work on Science Road, we have to provide that shelter. Many of us have felt the discomfort of the associated career discontinuities, and are inclined to blame the different culture of Money Road, and to demonize the many MBAs traveling there, or even the possession of an MBA degree! Using the MBA as a scapegoat doesn't start at the right place. One might as well blame one's Modern Language teachers for any prompt destructive effects of globalization. This writer has traveled both roads, and survived any number of close calls at the crossroads (yes, some fender-benders, but never quite a total wreck) and looking at the culture clash (and there is one, along with a frequent generation gap) has come to somewhat different conclusions. Let's start with why we have MBAs at all, touching on the first and fairly successful application of their skills, then return to insights on the place of inventive people in our business, and close with comments on the ways in which industrial research managers are now expected to contribute. This is written from the viewpoint of a crossover career in industry and academe, running market-focused research programs of many hundreds of Ph.D.s, training researchers, preparing dozens of MBA candidates, as well as hundreds of scientists and engineers, within various universities. Starting with the joy of bench work, creating new products and processes, this career led to the more abstract world of the planning corporate auditor, then to creation of new jobs and companies, some from scratch and some from corporate discards. What's an MBA All About? The MBA is basically an American invention, and it has served its home well. Its origination is claimed by the University of Chicago, about 100 years ago, thus establishing a permanent claim to mental rigor in quantitative financial analysis. The degree came to popularity in the context of the rise of the giant, functionally managed, globally decentralized manufacturing company, itself a mimic of Roman imperial style. Both are long gone and further evolution has extended the scope to policy and to overall leadership, through consultation and shared learning. What is it now about? In its most concise statement, the MBA experience first teaches a required trust and collaboration between persons of profoundly different backgrounds. It is indeed iconic and formulaic in its emphasis on the language of finance to express purpose and performance, much as the conversations of airline pilots with ground controllers use a subset of natural English. …