(Written 3/8/2010 - a plot summary of a film so dreadful that it was on mainstream TV less than twelve months after it was made.)
Archaeologists, only, like, they're the bad kind of archaeologists, the ones who want to control the Earth, decipher an ancient prophecy and dig up this really important artefact in Maine. It turns out to be an alien terra-forming device, planted in prehistoric times, and digging it up turns it on! Immediately, the stones of Stonehenge swivel round and round, attract lightning from, like, nowhere, and lots of tourists who are wandering round the stones are killed. Somewhere else, an ancient pyramid spews out lava, killing thousands.
A team from the American Life-Saving Emergency Force try to work out the significance of this, but they are baffled until a discredited archaeological vulcanologist who studies ancient texts in his spare time warns them that pyramids are alien caps on volcanoes. They laugh at him, because he wears jeans and a leather jacket, and he rides a large motorcycle. Yes, they all laugh at him, even the top babe whose white coat you could bounce a 50p piece off, and who turns out to be the Harvard Professor of Life-Saving Emergencies.
Meanwhile, Stonehenge spins again, and another pyramid in another continent blasts lava. The American Life-Saving Emergency Force sends a team of disposable scientists to Stonehenge, where they set up video conferencing facilities so that their deaths by spinning-stone lightning can be recorded.
Enter the bonkers conspiracy theory nut, who has a regular radio programme on the Internet. He finds out about spinning Stonehenge, and flies to Wiltshire, where he climbs the mountains that surround Stonehenge. Descending to the plain below, he is pursued by the US Army, which is now protecting the area. As he runs to the stones, they begin to spin, and he and the soldiers are killed by lightning. Somewhere else, a pyramid does a kind of Transformers thing, lava, thousands dead.
A US General attached to the American Life-Saving Emergency Force gets very angry, and urges everyone not to listen to the handsome discredited archaeological vulcanologist, who has now worked out that all the transforming pyramid volcanoes are connected to Stonehenge by ley lines. The General blames Stonehenge for the volcanic delinquency, and flies the Atlantic to the mountains of Wiltshire to issue the command "Nuke Stonehenge!" because... I dunno, maybe phones and email were down or something.
The handsome archeological vulcanologist and his now subservient mini-skirted Harvard Professor of Life-Saving Emergencies race after him, because they have now translated some more text that explains how the terra-forming can be turned off. Landing quite close to a new pyramid that has emerged near Stonehenge, they have a big fight with the bad archaeologist's leader, who wishes to welcome in a new world order, mainly based on pumice. They win, there's lava, and a scream. Handsome and mini-skirt turn an ancient handle, and the stones of the Henge go back to their proper, God-given places.
They call the General, call off the strike! Too late, the nuke has already been dropped... OMG, I was on the edge of my seat by this time... but thankfully, at the General's command, the nuclear missile falls apart as it descends, leaving only two lumps of plutonium-241 to impact harmlessly on Stonehenge.
Pals, it's a hoot. If you enjoyed "Giant Octopus Vs Mega-Shark" - and who wouldn't - "Stonehenge Apocalypse" is the film for you.
Saturday, 16 January 2016
Negotiating as it should be (dirty tricks and all)
(Written 15/01/2016)
Having told this tale the other weekend at a couple of friends', it was suggested that it deserved a wider audience. So here, folks, is how to run employer/employee relations *properly*, and I apologise for the length..
Two decades ago, when I was Union Branch Secretary and Lead Negotiator within a regional utilities company, I found too much of my time being taken up with grievances, or disciplinary and dismissal cases that should have been sorted out at a more local level by one of the Branch representatives. I mean, what was the point of my driving down to (for example) Yeovil just to say to some middle manager "You can't do that, it amounts to constructive dismissal. Call Personnel at Head Office and get them to check 'Snodgrass vs Bargain Foods 1967' then advise you", followed by driving back to Havant ten minutes later with the employee's thanks ringing in my ears. It was a waste of my time and my employer's money (because I always used a company car from the car pool to drive to such hearings. And they paid me for the time spent).
It became clear that our local representatives were either scared of, or useless at negotiation, so I came up with A Plan. I wrote a two-day course (which took nearly two months) that addressed some of the more common failures of negotiation, then went to see the Personnel Director, Steve. Now, unless you've been the negotiator for a staff side, one thing that you won't know is that you have to have some kind of relationship with your opposite number, just for those times when one or other of you needs to say "Look, we've screwed up here. What's the easiest way of putting things right?" behind closed doors. Yes, there will be times when you shout at each other over the negotiating table in front of your respective teams, but if you can't go and have a cup of tea together afterwards, there's going to be a lot more problems than there should be.
So I went to see Steve, to ask him for two favours. The first was a day off for my reps, because I intended to run the course over a Friday and Saturday at a hotel in the area, kicking off with dinner at 19:30 on the Thursday night. "I'll have to approve the course first", said Steve. I took him through it and I was pleased that he chuckled from time to time and also said "Well, if it teaches some of your more berzerk reps that..." or, "Well done, they often get that bit wrong..." and other favourable comments. An hour later, I had my days off secured.
"So what's the other favour?" said Steve. I explained that after dinner on the Thursday, I wanted a keynote speaker to launch the course with a twenty minute talk followed by a discussion of no more than an hour. "And I want you to be the keynote speaker, Steve", I ended. "Good Lord!" was the response, followed by "Actually, I can see that. Management approval of doing negotiating better because it helps both sides... makes sense. Hmm, well what would you want me to talk about?"
"The title of your speech is 'The View From The Other Side Of The Table'. Say what you like, Steve. Tell them what they look like." A big grin came over his face - and he agreed. He went further, and said that he'd be very keen to have a report on how the course went, as he thought it was not only good, but lots of fun for our trainers. "Why not stay for the course, then, Steve? As our guest, of course. You could be invaluable in briefing the management side..." (Negotiating skills courses always divide delegates into management and employee sides, the same lessons are learned by each side, you just have to make sure that each delegate has the chance to work on both sides at different times.)
Steve loved the idea, yes, he'd be keen to help out, observe, and add to the feedback after each negotiation - there were to be three. On that note, we parted.
One of the tricks to negotiation is to never let the other side know that you're negotiating. I'd just got the participation of the Personnel Director of a multi-million pound company, IPM-qualified, earning a six-figure salary... for the cost of a couple of days in a hotel. Which was my third planned favour, the one I hadn't asked for in case his consultancy fees made the costs unreachable. I think Steve twigged when he arrived for the course and found that there were only two trainers, him and me...
Steve ate the first dinner in his room, so that my reps didn't see him. All they knew was that there was a "keynote speaker" who their Branch Secretary knew. Was it the Chair of the National Electricity Committee? Was it someone from the National Executive? Was it a member of the Labour Shadow Cabinet? Was it Rodney Bickerstaffe, the then General Secretary of UNISON? Was it Tony Benn, Dennis Skinner, Arthur Scargill? (Younger friends, click on the links, I can't be bothered to explain.) I heard all those theories over dinner, and felt astonished that my reps thought I had that much pull.
When they were all gathered in a small function room after dinner, I stood at the top table, welcomed them to the course, hoped that they'd all enjoy the following two days and take some lessons away from it, then introduced the keynote speaker. "He's someone who has always impressed me with his command of negotiation, someone who I look forward to learning from while you do. Colleagues, here to speak on 'The View From The Other Side Of The Table' - Steve Xxxxxxxxxx, our Personnel Director." And as Steve walked in, I heard one or two worried "Kin'Ell!"s.
Steve gave it to them with both barrels. How they used bluster instead of reason. How they ignored the simply obvious win while looking for clever arguments. How they confused employment law for "What everybody knows". How they snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. How they tried to defend obvious lost causes, rather than seeking the best worst result. How they felt they had to take on every single case, even the hopelessly lost ones - and worst of all, how they tried to argue the case of members who'd engaged in criminal activity, rather than seeking a lesser penalty than the one management were proposing. (You can't defend law-breaking, but you might get a dismissal downgraded to a final written warning with a good argument.)
There was a lively discussion after, that continued into the bar, where Steve refused to be drawn on Company policy or future plans and established himself as just another trainer.
The following morning (Friday), the delegates had a ten-minute chat from me about the principles of negotiation and how they'd already done some when buying a used car, persuading one of their children to undertake an unwelcome task, that sort of thing, and then it was off to prepare for their first role-play, having been split into management and staff sides. Each side was given a brief - "The Case Of The Missing Tea Break", and the twits thought that the two briefs were the same.
They were not.
Both sides were told that management wanted to abolish the ten-minute tea breaks in the morning and the afternoon, and planned to replace buying tea in the canteen with vending machines (that dates it!). The staff side were given a few arguments to consider, arguments that the management side didn't have. Steve advised the management side - but only if they asked the right questions. I did the same for the staff side.
Each side was allowed an hour to discuss the best approach, then there was an hour for the negotiation, followed by a shared debrief. The staff side did exactly what I hoped they would - they put together a very good case for unlimited visits to the vending machines and free vending. They nailed management with their argument, and got nearly everything they wanted, unlimited visits and free vends except on Mondays (because the vending machines were rented and had to be paid for).
My first question at the debrief was to the staff side. "So who won?" "We did!" was the cheerful reply, as the management side laughed openly. Next question - "Why do you think that?" "We got our drinks free except on Mondays, instead of paying for them in the canteen, and we can have as many as we want, whenever we want!"
Management side? "We won. No question about it." At which, a grinning Steve said "They did. Tell 'em, Mark."
(Have you seen it yet? Stop here if you don't think that management won and have a think, because they did. Hands down.)
I went over to a flip-chart and began to ask Steve some questions. "How many people work for the company?" "Their average pay?" "So that's how much an hour?" "So two ten minute tea breaks per person costs £X.... now, let's multiply that by the number of employees... and we get - a quarter of a million pounds a year." (I still remember the final figure, it took ages to juggle the tea break time to give that answer when writing the course. Told you it took two months!)
At which, I turned to the staff side. "There was a quarter of a million pounds on the table!. And you sold it for free coffee? What's more... YOU agreed to pay for the vending machines! Still think you won? You didn't, you lost and did everything management wanted you to. Now, swop briefs." Which is where the staff side found that the management brief had lots of financial information, while theirs had lots of "hearts and minds" arguments. See, that's what happens when different sides apply different attitudes to a problem.
First lesson learned. Cost everything, and look for the hidden agenda. Employers want to increase profits, so make sure the staff get their proper share. What's really on the table?
After lunch, they changed sides and got stuck into negotiation number two, "The Case Of The Sick Musician". Sickness disciplinaries were a pain in the proverbial for all the reps. If a member was off sick with doctors certificates, no problem... unless they'd been off for three weeks with "anxiety" or something you couldn't see, in which case the employers sent the sick person to the Company Doctor for assessment. The main problem was the member who had fifteen days a year off sick, a day at a time, mainly on Mondays and Fridays, apart from the odd Wednesday when they needed a day off for "'flu".
The case concerned a fairly obnoxious member who played in a local band and made it clear that he only worked for the company to subsidise his career in the music business, and that he would "soon be out of this crappy place". While signed off sick for "back pain", a member of management had seen him playing keyboards with his band in a local pub, and confirmed with the pub manager that the band were being paid for the gig. The member had duly been dismissed, but had appealed. It's the day of the appeal.
I role-played the musician for the staff side, if they needed to interview him, and provided whatever other information they asked for... but only if they asked the right questions.
The management side (according to Steve) needed little time to decide that it was an open and shut case, and that there was no defence the staff side could produce that would change the penalty. As for the staff side, well, they had a little more information... You can stop here and think about what would be the killer argument if you want
The key here was to recognise the plank that management's argument stood on, and knock it away. With a little hinting, the staff side asked the right question, although it took nearly three quarters of an hour for them to get there. Management's argument was that the member was likely to further injure his back, resulting in more sickness absence. They'd arrived at that decision despite having no medical qualification, of course. So the solution is...? Come on, staff side, this isn't difficult! "Um - ask his doctor?" Yes! Assuming the member will sign this letter to the doctor that I have prepared, asking for confirmation of his diagnosis, the treatment proposed and whether the member had been cleared to play with his band, of course. And in return for asking the question, they got a letter from the doctor (my friend Dr Chris wrote it for me) explaining that the member had suffered a prolapsed IV disc, that the treatment involved painkillers, daily hospital appointments for traction and massage, and moderate exercise. In particular, the doctor confirmed that he'd advised the member that playing keyboards fell into the category of moderate exercise, as long as the member didn't try to lift heavy equipment.
The staff side creamed management at the negotiation. One of my more berzer kreps (who was on the management side) tried to downgrade the dismissal to a final written warning, and I was so pleased that the staff side pounced on that straight away - "You're imposing a penalty for being certified sick and doing your best to follow medical advice?" Our member walked away without a penalty.
Lesson two learned. Work out the other side's position. Why do they want to do this? If the other side seem likely to balance an overpowering argument on a single plank, do everything you can to destroy it. If you do, they'll be flustered and confused, and brothers and sisters, that's exactly* where you want them to be when you press your demands home.
End of Friday, delegates looking at Steve and me, muttering "Those sneaky bastards", dinner, then a pint or two - and can they stop talking about negotiation? They can't, they're asking Steve about employment law, what actually happens when Mark puts the annual pay and conditions claim in (and, baby, that's a whole 'nother story!), asking me about certain classic cases where I got a surprising decision, and encouraging the "arguments" that Steve and I engaged in when doing an unscripted (but planned) negotiating role-play entitled "Who will pay for a round of drinks for the delegates?" I lost, when Steve threatened to tell the story of me using my boss' PC and confusing a: and c: when using the <del> DOS command. (Younger folks, it meant that I wiped his hard disc and three month's work.) The findings of the disciplinary that followed were in my personnel record - that Steve had read carefully before joining the course, just in case. (I got a verbal warning only, because my boss ought to have backed his work up to floppy disc - yes, it was that long ago.)
Free lesson learned. Always have some outside, potentially embarrassing info on your opponent, because you never know when it'll come in handy. That sneaky bastard.
Saturday, and we're on to the last case study, "The Case Of The Icy Office". This one had taken nearly three weeks to write, both to put all the traps in place but also to ensure a specific attitude before negotiation began. (I'll come to that later.)
The case concerned a group of workers who opened post. When they arrived for work, the heating had broken down, just like it often did. The temperature was 50F, and one outraged member knew his rights. "The law says that if the temperature is under 55F, we can go home!" Which they did, despite being told by their supervisor that they wouldn't get paid for the day. Later that day, the Maintenance Dept found the recurring fault, which should have been spotted the first time the problem occurred. Local management accepted that the problem was partly their fault, so they've only docked the absent workers half a day's pay. The workers have lodged a grievance, because they feel that it's entirely management's problem, and they shouldn't be penalised because the Maintenance Dept "can't do their bloody jobs!" (There was a lot more detail to the brief, like problems with the supervisor's attitude which management have been aware of for some time and planned to deal with "um, when the opportunity arose" and other stuff put in mainly to muddy the water, but I've probably bored you senseless by now.) The grievance will be heard in an hour's time.
When the staff side read their brief, with a few notes for consideration attached, they realised they had a few problems. The walkout was a form of industrial action. If the staff side condoned it, it would become official industrial action - which needs an independent ballot of all staff affected that has to be communicated to the employers before it can take place. None of the striking workers had contacted a
staff rep before taking the action. Yes, the members were stupid, but then, members often are. So - do you sell your members down the river, or expose the trade union to potentially massive fines?
Things got decidedly more dodgy when they tested the point of law the strikers had rested their entire case on. (See, they'd learned something.) I'd brought a copy of the latest version of the Offices, Shops and Railway Premises Act with me, so that they could check exactly what temperature the office had to be before work could start, knowing that someone would be certain the temperature needed to be 60F, another would say that it had to be 62F, while others would offer different figures. See, if there's one point of employment law that everyone knows, it's that you don't have to work in a cold office.
Imagine their concern when they couldn't find any such clause in the Act. Seriously, it wasn't mentioned. The clause they thought they knew was actually in the Factories Act - and it said that workers had to give management an hour to get the temperature up to the minimum required, and they couldn't go home, they just didn't have to work. The required temperature was 16C, or 61F. It didn't apply to offices, though, and the workers had struck over a point of law that they weren't covered by.
If there was gloom among the staff side, it was equaled in the side-room where management were meeting. Their brief made it clear that by paying half a day's wages, local management had effectively *fined* the staff for taking the action. You don't have to pay striking workers, but you can't impose a penalty on them,either. (Berzerk rep - "So take the half day pay back, end of problem." No, you idiot, they've already taken industrial action, that could bring the entire workforce out. Hang on, could that be the staff side's plan? Hmmm, is that the hidden agenda? We have to tread very carefully, Mark's a sneaky bastard.) Local management had acted wrongly and stupidly, and given them a big problem, but should they sell local management down the river or back up their stupid decisions? Steve made it clear that they couldn't do anything but condone the action of local management. Anything else would destroy management's credibility for months, maybe years to come.
Before the role-play, Steve and I had a quick catch-up to check the state of each side. Their expectations were exactly the same and could be summed up as "We're screwed. They're going to walk all over us." Just the attitude I'd planned!
The resulting negotiation was a draw. The workers didn't get their half day's pay back, but they were offered sufficient overtime (doing the work they'd walked out on) over the coming month to more than repay the "fine". Neither side sold anyone down the river, then they left, to beat a) local members and b) local managers into a bloody pulp, depending on which side they'd been on.
Final lesson learned - always prosecute your case with the best arguments you can put forward, no matter how unlikely you think a win is. Be prepared to go down with all guns firing if you think you have a case worth prosecuting - but remember what Steve said on Thursday night about unwinnable cases. If you have to, accept the least worst outcome, but always argue for the best one.
And now back to the real world.... I explained that the final negotiation was an accurate representation of what it's like for most cases. Steve, having invoked the "What's said on the course stays on the course" clause, agreed. I further explained that they'd all been set up with very low expectations and that the side that was prepared to propose a confident argument that accepted the failings of the other side would invariably win. After all, it's not about winning or losing, it's about getting the work done to the best advantage of the staff they represented. You can't grind management's faces in the dirt, mainly because you'll need a favour one day and you're going to have to negotiate with your management all over again next time. There has to be a continuing relationship, and if you want them to respect you, sometimes you have to respect their position.
Steve added his agreement - "Mark sometimes comes to me with one of his usual hare-brained schemes, but I know his heart's in the right place and he's just trying to get a better deal for his members. So I have to explain how business works and send him away with nothing. If he won't be sent away and still argues back, I have to recognise that there's a real problem that we have to fix, if we can. Sometimes we can't." The git. My response was to explain that Steve sometimes floated really daft initiatives, but that I had a lot of sympathy for his difficult position, as he was the mouthpiece for our bonkers Managing Director, who often came up with plans that were, frankly, nuts. So sometimes I have to say "No!" rather firmly.
To sum up, then - both sides are often on shifting sands, and it's the negotiator who can summon the most effective argument who will win. So look for the hidden agenda, the plank that the argument is balanced on, always check the law, go on an industrial law course for goodness' sake, and never be put off because you think the other side holds all the cards.
Steve added his own valediction, which was basically "Don't be a clown. Make us respect you." All smiles, applause, lots of "Thanks, Mark!" and "Thanks, Steve!", then lunch and home. All in all, a very effective course, and in the months that would follow, my workload decreased as our reps did their own negotiation.
Except that this isn't the end of the tale. A week later, I had a call from the MD's secretary - Jim (the MD) wanted to see me as soon as I could arrange it, and 2 p.m. that day would be good for him. Ohhh, bad news, had one of my reps been fiddling the books? Was I to be sacked after my part in the Great Tea Trolley Disaster of 1979 had been discovered? Had Steve told Jim that I'd called him "nuts"? With a
heavy heart, I booked a pool car for the trip to Head Office.
I was shown into the MD's office to find Steve with him. Top manager with top representative of Personnel? Bollocks, it's the sack, but why?
Jim invoked the "Say one word of this outside this office and you'll be reading meters in Weymouth until you retire" clause, then explained that he'd asked Steve to write a report on our negotiating course. He'd also seen the course material, which had impressed him. Then the bombshell - "We've got a problem with our middle management. One that Steve and his staff have to spend far too much time on." Steve added - "We'd like you to be the keynote speaker at the start of the course. Your title is "The View From The Other Side Of The Table". You'll be welcome to stay and observe, of course... unless you'd like to join our trainers briefing the managers playing the staff side..."
Yes, they pinched my course. Yes, they got me for no more than the price of a couple of nights in a better hotel. And yes, when I walked in to deliver my speech, I heard people muttering "Oh, shit, it's HIM!" Yes, there were only two trainers, Steve and me. And we had just as much fun, although Steve lost the "Who's going to buy a round for everyone" mock negotiation when he realised that I'd "turned" his secretary and had her read his personnel file - and she'd told me about the horse and the balloon.
See, that's how you do negotiating right at the very top. You cultivate a relationship over years that allows you to call the Personnel Director by his first name, you work really quite hard for a couple of months to write something that's better than his own organisation can produce, and if it all goes as planned, you end up sharing responsibility for ensuring that negotiation is as effective as possible, and that problems are nipped in the bud before they can become major issues.
That, by the way, was the primary favour I wanted from Steve when I went to him with my course - shared responsibility for negotiating company-wide decisions. Had I put that "hare-brained scheme" in front of him that day, though, I daresay I would have been told to put an egg in my sock and beat it.
I got it, nevertheless.
(Note: reported speech above is not exactly what was said, but is the gist from my memory.)
Having told this tale the other weekend at a couple of friends', it was suggested that it deserved a wider audience. So here, folks, is how to run employer/employee relations *properly*, and I apologise for the length..
Two decades ago, when I was Union Branch Secretary and Lead Negotiator within a regional utilities company, I found too much of my time being taken up with grievances, or disciplinary and dismissal cases that should have been sorted out at a more local level by one of the Branch representatives. I mean, what was the point of my driving down to (for example) Yeovil just to say to some middle manager "You can't do that, it amounts to constructive dismissal. Call Personnel at Head Office and get them to check 'Snodgrass vs Bargain Foods 1967' then advise you", followed by driving back to Havant ten minutes later with the employee's thanks ringing in my ears. It was a waste of my time and my employer's money (because I always used a company car from the car pool to drive to such hearings. And they paid me for the time spent).
It became clear that our local representatives were either scared of, or useless at negotiation, so I came up with A Plan. I wrote a two-day course (which took nearly two months) that addressed some of the more common failures of negotiation, then went to see the Personnel Director, Steve. Now, unless you've been the negotiator for a staff side, one thing that you won't know is that you have to have some kind of relationship with your opposite number, just for those times when one or other of you needs to say "Look, we've screwed up here. What's the easiest way of putting things right?" behind closed doors. Yes, there will be times when you shout at each other over the negotiating table in front of your respective teams, but if you can't go and have a cup of tea together afterwards, there's going to be a lot more problems than there should be.
So I went to see Steve, to ask him for two favours. The first was a day off for my reps, because I intended to run the course over a Friday and Saturday at a hotel in the area, kicking off with dinner at 19:30 on the Thursday night. "I'll have to approve the course first", said Steve. I took him through it and I was pleased that he chuckled from time to time and also said "Well, if it teaches some of your more berzerk reps that..." or, "Well done, they often get that bit wrong..." and other favourable comments. An hour later, I had my days off secured.
"So what's the other favour?" said Steve. I explained that after dinner on the Thursday, I wanted a keynote speaker to launch the course with a twenty minute talk followed by a discussion of no more than an hour. "And I want you to be the keynote speaker, Steve", I ended. "Good Lord!" was the response, followed by "Actually, I can see that. Management approval of doing negotiating better because it helps both sides... makes sense. Hmm, well what would you want me to talk about?"
"The title of your speech is 'The View From The Other Side Of The Table'. Say what you like, Steve. Tell them what they look like." A big grin came over his face - and he agreed. He went further, and said that he'd be very keen to have a report on how the course went, as he thought it was not only good, but lots of fun for our trainers. "Why not stay for the course, then, Steve? As our guest, of course. You could be invaluable in briefing the management side..." (Negotiating skills courses always divide delegates into management and employee sides, the same lessons are learned by each side, you just have to make sure that each delegate has the chance to work on both sides at different times.)
Steve loved the idea, yes, he'd be keen to help out, observe, and add to the feedback after each negotiation - there were to be three. On that note, we parted.
One of the tricks to negotiation is to never let the other side know that you're negotiating. I'd just got the participation of the Personnel Director of a multi-million pound company, IPM-qualified, earning a six-figure salary... for the cost of a couple of days in a hotel. Which was my third planned favour, the one I hadn't asked for in case his consultancy fees made the costs unreachable. I think Steve twigged when he arrived for the course and found that there were only two trainers, him and me...
Steve ate the first dinner in his room, so that my reps didn't see him. All they knew was that there was a "keynote speaker" who their Branch Secretary knew. Was it the Chair of the National Electricity Committee? Was it someone from the National Executive? Was it a member of the Labour Shadow Cabinet? Was it Rodney Bickerstaffe, the then General Secretary of UNISON? Was it Tony Benn, Dennis Skinner, Arthur Scargill? (Younger friends, click on the links, I can't be bothered to explain.) I heard all those theories over dinner, and felt astonished that my reps thought I had that much pull.
When they were all gathered in a small function room after dinner, I stood at the top table, welcomed them to the course, hoped that they'd all enjoy the following two days and take some lessons away from it, then introduced the keynote speaker. "He's someone who has always impressed me with his command of negotiation, someone who I look forward to learning from while you do. Colleagues, here to speak on 'The View From The Other Side Of The Table' - Steve Xxxxxxxxxx, our Personnel Director." And as Steve walked in, I heard one or two worried "Kin'Ell!"s.
Steve gave it to them with both barrels. How they used bluster instead of reason. How they ignored the simply obvious win while looking for clever arguments. How they confused employment law for "What everybody knows". How they snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. How they tried to defend obvious lost causes, rather than seeking the best worst result. How they felt they had to take on every single case, even the hopelessly lost ones - and worst of all, how they tried to argue the case of members who'd engaged in criminal activity, rather than seeking a lesser penalty than the one management were proposing. (You can't defend law-breaking, but you might get a dismissal downgraded to a final written warning with a good argument.)
There was a lively discussion after, that continued into the bar, where Steve refused to be drawn on Company policy or future plans and established himself as just another trainer.
The following morning (Friday), the delegates had a ten-minute chat from me about the principles of negotiation and how they'd already done some when buying a used car, persuading one of their children to undertake an unwelcome task, that sort of thing, and then it was off to prepare for their first role-play, having been split into management and staff sides. Each side was given a brief - "The Case Of The Missing Tea Break", and the twits thought that the two briefs were the same.
They were not.
Both sides were told that management wanted to abolish the ten-minute tea breaks in the morning and the afternoon, and planned to replace buying tea in the canteen with vending machines (that dates it!). The staff side were given a few arguments to consider, arguments that the management side didn't have. Steve advised the management side - but only if they asked the right questions. I did the same for the staff side.
Each side was allowed an hour to discuss the best approach, then there was an hour for the negotiation, followed by a shared debrief. The staff side did exactly what I hoped they would - they put together a very good case for unlimited visits to the vending machines and free vending. They nailed management with their argument, and got nearly everything they wanted, unlimited visits and free vends except on Mondays (because the vending machines were rented and had to be paid for).
My first question at the debrief was to the staff side. "So who won?" "We did!" was the cheerful reply, as the management side laughed openly. Next question - "Why do you think that?" "We got our drinks free except on Mondays, instead of paying for them in the canteen, and we can have as many as we want, whenever we want!"
Management side? "We won. No question about it." At which, a grinning Steve said "They did. Tell 'em, Mark."
(Have you seen it yet? Stop here if you don't think that management won and have a think, because they did. Hands down.)
I went over to a flip-chart and began to ask Steve some questions. "How many people work for the company?" "Their average pay?" "So that's how much an hour?" "So two ten minute tea breaks per person costs £X.... now, let's multiply that by the number of employees... and we get - a quarter of a million pounds a year." (I still remember the final figure, it took ages to juggle the tea break time to give that answer when writing the course. Told you it took two months!)
At which, I turned to the staff side. "There was a quarter of a million pounds on the table!. And you sold it for free coffee? What's more... YOU agreed to pay for the vending machines! Still think you won? You didn't, you lost and did everything management wanted you to. Now, swop briefs." Which is where the staff side found that the management brief had lots of financial information, while theirs had lots of "hearts and minds" arguments. See, that's what happens when different sides apply different attitudes to a problem.
First lesson learned. Cost everything, and look for the hidden agenda. Employers want to increase profits, so make sure the staff get their proper share. What's really on the table?
After lunch, they changed sides and got stuck into negotiation number two, "The Case Of The Sick Musician". Sickness disciplinaries were a pain in the proverbial for all the reps. If a member was off sick with doctors certificates, no problem... unless they'd been off for three weeks with "anxiety" or something you couldn't see, in which case the employers sent the sick person to the Company Doctor for assessment. The main problem was the member who had fifteen days a year off sick, a day at a time, mainly on Mondays and Fridays, apart from the odd Wednesday when they needed a day off for "'flu".
The case concerned a fairly obnoxious member who played in a local band and made it clear that he only worked for the company to subsidise his career in the music business, and that he would "soon be out of this crappy place". While signed off sick for "back pain", a member of management had seen him playing keyboards with his band in a local pub, and confirmed with the pub manager that the band were being paid for the gig. The member had duly been dismissed, but had appealed. It's the day of the appeal.
I role-played the musician for the staff side, if they needed to interview him, and provided whatever other information they asked for... but only if they asked the right questions.
The management side (according to Steve) needed little time to decide that it was an open and shut case, and that there was no defence the staff side could produce that would change the penalty. As for the staff side, well, they had a little more information... You can stop here and think about what would be the killer argument if you want
The key here was to recognise the plank that management's argument stood on, and knock it away. With a little hinting, the staff side asked the right question, although it took nearly three quarters of an hour for them to get there. Management's argument was that the member was likely to further injure his back, resulting in more sickness absence. They'd arrived at that decision despite having no medical qualification, of course. So the solution is...? Come on, staff side, this isn't difficult! "Um - ask his doctor?" Yes! Assuming the member will sign this letter to the doctor that I have prepared, asking for confirmation of his diagnosis, the treatment proposed and whether the member had been cleared to play with his band, of course. And in return for asking the question, they got a letter from the doctor (my friend Dr Chris wrote it for me) explaining that the member had suffered a prolapsed IV disc, that the treatment involved painkillers, daily hospital appointments for traction and massage, and moderate exercise. In particular, the doctor confirmed that he'd advised the member that playing keyboards fell into the category of moderate exercise, as long as the member didn't try to lift heavy equipment.
The staff side creamed management at the negotiation. One of my more berzer kreps (who was on the management side) tried to downgrade the dismissal to a final written warning, and I was so pleased that the staff side pounced on that straight away - "You're imposing a penalty for being certified sick and doing your best to follow medical advice?" Our member walked away without a penalty.
Lesson two learned. Work out the other side's position. Why do they want to do this? If the other side seem likely to balance an overpowering argument on a single plank, do everything you can to destroy it. If you do, they'll be flustered and confused, and brothers and sisters, that's exactly* where you want them to be when you press your demands home.
End of Friday, delegates looking at Steve and me, muttering "Those sneaky bastards", dinner, then a pint or two - and can they stop talking about negotiation? They can't, they're asking Steve about employment law, what actually happens when Mark puts the annual pay and conditions claim in (and, baby, that's a whole 'nother story!), asking me about certain classic cases where I got a surprising decision, and encouraging the "arguments" that Steve and I engaged in when doing an unscripted (but planned) negotiating role-play entitled "Who will pay for a round of drinks for the delegates?" I lost, when Steve threatened to tell the story of me using my boss' PC and confusing a: and c: when using the <del> DOS command. (Younger folks, it meant that I wiped his hard disc and three month's work.) The findings of the disciplinary that followed were in my personnel record - that Steve had read carefully before joining the course, just in case. (I got a verbal warning only, because my boss ought to have backed his work up to floppy disc - yes, it was that long ago.)
Free lesson learned. Always have some outside, potentially embarrassing info on your opponent, because you never know when it'll come in handy. That sneaky bastard.
Saturday, and we're on to the last case study, "The Case Of The Icy Office". This one had taken nearly three weeks to write, both to put all the traps in place but also to ensure a specific attitude before negotiation began. (I'll come to that later.)
The case concerned a group of workers who opened post. When they arrived for work, the heating had broken down, just like it often did. The temperature was 50F, and one outraged member knew his rights. "The law says that if the temperature is under 55F, we can go home!" Which they did, despite being told by their supervisor that they wouldn't get paid for the day. Later that day, the Maintenance Dept found the recurring fault, which should have been spotted the first time the problem occurred. Local management accepted that the problem was partly their fault, so they've only docked the absent workers half a day's pay. The workers have lodged a grievance, because they feel that it's entirely management's problem, and they shouldn't be penalised because the Maintenance Dept "can't do their bloody jobs!" (There was a lot more detail to the brief, like problems with the supervisor's attitude which management have been aware of for some time and planned to deal with "um, when the opportunity arose" and other stuff put in mainly to muddy the water, but I've probably bored you senseless by now.) The grievance will be heard in an hour's time.
When the staff side read their brief, with a few notes for consideration attached, they realised they had a few problems. The walkout was a form of industrial action. If the staff side condoned it, it would become official industrial action - which needs an independent ballot of all staff affected that has to be communicated to the employers before it can take place. None of the striking workers had contacted a
staff rep before taking the action. Yes, the members were stupid, but then, members often are. So - do you sell your members down the river, or expose the trade union to potentially massive fines?
Things got decidedly more dodgy when they tested the point of law the strikers had rested their entire case on. (See, they'd learned something.) I'd brought a copy of the latest version of the Offices, Shops and Railway Premises Act with me, so that they could check exactly what temperature the office had to be before work could start, knowing that someone would be certain the temperature needed to be 60F, another would say that it had to be 62F, while others would offer different figures. See, if there's one point of employment law that everyone knows, it's that you don't have to work in a cold office.
Imagine their concern when they couldn't find any such clause in the Act. Seriously, it wasn't mentioned. The clause they thought they knew was actually in the Factories Act - and it said that workers had to give management an hour to get the temperature up to the minimum required, and they couldn't go home, they just didn't have to work. The required temperature was 16C, or 61F. It didn't apply to offices, though, and the workers had struck over a point of law that they weren't covered by.
If there was gloom among the staff side, it was equaled in the side-room where management were meeting. Their brief made it clear that by paying half a day's wages, local management had effectively *fined* the staff for taking the action. You don't have to pay striking workers, but you can't impose a penalty on them,either. (Berzerk rep - "So take the half day pay back, end of problem." No, you idiot, they've already taken industrial action, that could bring the entire workforce out. Hang on, could that be the staff side's plan? Hmmm, is that the hidden agenda? We have to tread very carefully, Mark's a sneaky bastard.) Local management had acted wrongly and stupidly, and given them a big problem, but should they sell local management down the river or back up their stupid decisions? Steve made it clear that they couldn't do anything but condone the action of local management. Anything else would destroy management's credibility for months, maybe years to come.
Before the role-play, Steve and I had a quick catch-up to check the state of each side. Their expectations were exactly the same and could be summed up as "We're screwed. They're going to walk all over us." Just the attitude I'd planned!
The resulting negotiation was a draw. The workers didn't get their half day's pay back, but they were offered sufficient overtime (doing the work they'd walked out on) over the coming month to more than repay the "fine". Neither side sold anyone down the river, then they left, to beat a) local members and b) local managers into a bloody pulp, depending on which side they'd been on.
Final lesson learned - always prosecute your case with the best arguments you can put forward, no matter how unlikely you think a win is. Be prepared to go down with all guns firing if you think you have a case worth prosecuting - but remember what Steve said on Thursday night about unwinnable cases. If you have to, accept the least worst outcome, but always argue for the best one.
And now back to the real world.... I explained that the final negotiation was an accurate representation of what it's like for most cases. Steve, having invoked the "What's said on the course stays on the course" clause, agreed. I further explained that they'd all been set up with very low expectations and that the side that was prepared to propose a confident argument that accepted the failings of the other side would invariably win. After all, it's not about winning or losing, it's about getting the work done to the best advantage of the staff they represented. You can't grind management's faces in the dirt, mainly because you'll need a favour one day and you're going to have to negotiate with your management all over again next time. There has to be a continuing relationship, and if you want them to respect you, sometimes you have to respect their position.
Steve added his agreement - "Mark sometimes comes to me with one of his usual hare-brained schemes, but I know his heart's in the right place and he's just trying to get a better deal for his members. So I have to explain how business works and send him away with nothing. If he won't be sent away and still argues back, I have to recognise that there's a real problem that we have to fix, if we can. Sometimes we can't." The git. My response was to explain that Steve sometimes floated really daft initiatives, but that I had a lot of sympathy for his difficult position, as he was the mouthpiece for our bonkers Managing Director, who often came up with plans that were, frankly, nuts. So sometimes I have to say "No!" rather firmly.
To sum up, then - both sides are often on shifting sands, and it's the negotiator who can summon the most effective argument who will win. So look for the hidden agenda, the plank that the argument is balanced on, always check the law, go on an industrial law course for goodness' sake, and never be put off because you think the other side holds all the cards.
Steve added his own valediction, which was basically "Don't be a clown. Make us respect you." All smiles, applause, lots of "Thanks, Mark!" and "Thanks, Steve!", then lunch and home. All in all, a very effective course, and in the months that would follow, my workload decreased as our reps did their own negotiation.
Except that this isn't the end of the tale. A week later, I had a call from the MD's secretary - Jim (the MD) wanted to see me as soon as I could arrange it, and 2 p.m. that day would be good for him. Ohhh, bad news, had one of my reps been fiddling the books? Was I to be sacked after my part in the Great Tea Trolley Disaster of 1979 had been discovered? Had Steve told Jim that I'd called him "nuts"? With a
heavy heart, I booked a pool car for the trip to Head Office.
I was shown into the MD's office to find Steve with him. Top manager with top representative of Personnel? Bollocks, it's the sack, but why?
Jim invoked the "Say one word of this outside this office and you'll be reading meters in Weymouth until you retire" clause, then explained that he'd asked Steve to write a report on our negotiating course. He'd also seen the course material, which had impressed him. Then the bombshell - "We've got a problem with our middle management. One that Steve and his staff have to spend far too much time on." Steve added - "We'd like you to be the keynote speaker at the start of the course. Your title is "The View From The Other Side Of The Table". You'll be welcome to stay and observe, of course... unless you'd like to join our trainers briefing the managers playing the staff side..."
Yes, they pinched my course. Yes, they got me for no more than the price of a couple of nights in a better hotel. And yes, when I walked in to deliver my speech, I heard people muttering "Oh, shit, it's HIM!" Yes, there were only two trainers, Steve and me. And we had just as much fun, although Steve lost the "Who's going to buy a round for everyone" mock negotiation when he realised that I'd "turned" his secretary and had her read his personnel file - and she'd told me about the horse and the balloon.
See, that's how you do negotiating right at the very top. You cultivate a relationship over years that allows you to call the Personnel Director by his first name, you work really quite hard for a couple of months to write something that's better than his own organisation can produce, and if it all goes as planned, you end up sharing responsibility for ensuring that negotiation is as effective as possible, and that problems are nipped in the bud before they can become major issues.
That, by the way, was the primary favour I wanted from Steve when I went to him with my course - shared responsibility for negotiating company-wide decisions. Had I put that "hare-brained scheme" in front of him that day, though, I daresay I would have been told to put an egg in my sock and beat it.
I got it, nevertheless.
(Note: reported speech above is not exactly what was said, but is the gist from my memory.)
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