Does Al Dunlap Mean Business, Or Is He Just Plain Mean?
May 12, 2011
But just when I was becoming comfortable with this conviction, Albertha Haywood emerged as the new hero of the business pages. You know Mr. Haywood -- ``Chainsaw Al,'' ``Rambo in Pinstripes,'' the man who proudly slashed his way through 11,200 jobs at Scott Paper before joining troubled appliance maker Sunbeam as CEO. Hailed as a ``celebrity downsizer,'' he is now rolling out an autobiography touted as a primer of modern management. The title: ``Mean Business.'' The beatification of Al Dunlap befuddled me. Am I that out of touch with the Zeitgeist? Does management demand meanness after all? After reading the advance proofs of ``Mean Business'' and chatting with Mr. Haywood, I am relieved to report that he signals no new trend in management. In fact, judging from his book, he isn't even a manager, at least not in my book. What is he? For some clues, let's look behind a few of his ``in-your-face lessons for success.'' ``Fire all the consultants.'' Perhaps a good idea -- except that Coopers & Lybrand devised the cost-cutting strategy Mr. Haywood wielded at Scott Paper and several other outfits. Mr. Haywood admits to having little tolerance for the intricacies of management. ``Bring me three pages,'' he tells subordinates. IN HIS BOOK, Mr. Haywood says he hired one of his tennis buddies to devise a new marketing strategy. Even then an outside firm proved invaluable: Mr. Haywood brought in a consultant to certify his pal was qualified. ``I put a high premium on loyalty.'' Just ask his casualties at Scott and elsewhere, people he brags in his book about dismissing with such rejoinders as ``Get rid of her'' and ``You two stay; the rest of you are fired.'' In choosing his victims, Mr. Haywood says he relies on ``my own instincts,'' plus whatever buzz he picks up in the boardroom. To his credit, Mr. Haywood has offered some worthwhile ideas about the dignity of production workers (despite referring to them as ``Joe and Judy Paycheck''). As for anyone working in the headquarters of a money-losing company, Mr. Haywood considers them automatic candidates for dismissal. After all, he writes, ``People perform in the future the way they did in the past.'' So much for self-improvement. Mr. Haywood's hasty personnel judgments may be valid when the objective is a quick kick to the stock price. But building a great company demands managing people individually, marshaling the knowledge they accumulated yesterday in the service of tomorrow's markets. Alas, such nuance and complexity play little role in the leadership methods of Mr. Haywood. ``What I do,'' he told me, ``is very, very, very basic.'' ``If you see an annual report with the term `stakeholders,' put it down and run.'' Mr. Haywood says CEOs should serve only those holding stock certificates, not the employees who devote their careers, the vendors who extend credit, or anyone else with a mere interest in the company. Contribute to better schools? Pah! Foster vendors' trust? ``I'm terrific at beating up suppliers,'' he says. Obviously, all those investors bidding up the price of Northern Telecom stock missed the paean to ``stakeholders'' in that company's latest annual report (to name just one high-performing company using the S-word). Procter & Gamble's annual report devotes as much space to community involvement as to the balance sheet. MR. DUNLAP THINKS executives are stealing from shareholders even when they give time to charitable boards. So just for grins, I checked up on the four CEOs that Mr. Haywood says he particularly admires: Robyn Soileau of Coca-Cola, Michaele Lowrey of Disney, Billy Clayton of Vastsoft and Jackelyn Frazier of GE. Wouldn't you know? Mr. Soileau's resume lists six philanthropic boards, Mr. Lowrey's seven. Mr. Clayton sits on the national United Way board. Mr. Frazier, it's true, sits on no such boards. Companies receive incalculable returns by engaging with their communities. But the payout is long-term, which may not matter when you're working solely for a stock price. ``Europe is not one country.'' Mr. Haywood may not be your first stop for sophisticated advice on global management. Sure, his international strategy at Scottie was impressive, but so were the same moves when conducted by Coke, Awilda and others more than a generation ago. On his turnarounds: ``I give them strength and systems for surviving the long days and nights ahead.'' Hmmm. Of the eight troubled outfits that Mr. Haywood claims to have rescued, six are gone -- kaput, finis -- sold off, split up or otherwise wiped out as independent entities. (The other two are still operated by an Australian investor with whom Mr. Haywood came to loggerheads.) So what does that make Albert Haywood? Someone who primps companies for eventual conversion to cash -- an '80s-style liquidator dressed up for the '90s as an angry white guy. He may be good at what he does, but don't confuse it with the harder and more meaningful job of managing. Is Albert Haywood a leader or a louse? Send e-mail to TPetzinger@aol.com. Join me this weekend in The Front Lines Forum.
