Pranks and Silliness

As a teenager I witnessed (and was involved in) many pranks and jokes on site. The company I worked for at the time was a large-ish regional contractor who used chiefly their own labour, so arriving on a site for the first time often meant seeing familiar faces. This made for a - now I think of it – a nice, almost family-like atmosphere. I’m not sure this atmosphere exists any more on site, as the industry becomes more and more fragmented, less labour-intensive and the use of subcontract labour almost total. There is an up-side to this, in that sites are generally safer, more healthy places to work. I will not endorse any horseplay that risks injury or ill-health, but have decided to tell a few stories from the ‘bad old days’.

I was a trainee manager, on a 12-month ‘secondment’ from head office, to gain site experience. I ostensibly reported to the site manager, but was aware that he considered I worked for head office, and so gave me quite a free rein. The result was that when I fancied acting like management I could, but when I wanted to act like a ‘boy’ apprentice I could do that too. In the event, I actually spent 3 years on site because I enjoyed it so much.

There are a lot of things that a young apprentice can be sent to fetch, to amuse the older guys: sparks for the grinder, a skirting ladder, tartan paint. My favourite was ‘go and see Phil, and ask him for a long weight’. Phil is supposed to say ‘OK just hang on here for a bit’.  I don’t think I was actually personally caught-out by any of these.

One site manager with whom I worked, just before Christmas this particular year brought to work three massive turkeys. At lunchtime – whilst everyone else was trying to eat – he set about gutting, plucking and cleaning these birds in preparation for giving them as presents to his family. The stench was pretty rank and he wasn’t popular at all. I along with many others ate outside that day in the freezing cold, but I still thought it was hilarious. Later in the afternoon Denis called me over, and with a cheeky grin said ‘watch this’. There was an unfinished soakaway chamber – about 3 metres deep – with a ladder sticking out of it, and two of our men were working at the bottom. On Denis’s instruction I pulled-up the ladder. Denis then threw the stinking guts, feathers and unformed eggs he had removed from the turkeys down the hole. The noise that came from that chamber was horrific and a learned a few new swears that day. We let them out after about 15 minutes.

On another project, I worked with some specialist renderers, using a product that was ready-mixed and in large 25 litre buckets. It was trowelled over a basecoat to achieve a range of different colours and textures, and was pretty much like very thick paint. I witnessed one of their labourers carry two of these buckets from their van to the building they were working on. He approached the bottom of the ladder then placed the buckets on the floor. He seemed to be weighing-up his next move – eyeing the ladder, then the two big buckets he had to carry. He clearly decided that two trips up the ladder would be a waste of time, and he could manage both at once. He picked up a bucket in each hand, (these are large, very heavy buckets, remember) put one foot on to the bottom rung of the ladder, then – amazingly – hooked his CHIN onto the ladder and then placed the other foot on the ladder. For a couple of beautiful seconds he just remained there, grimacing, both feet on the first rung, about 25kgs hanging off the end of each arm, and just about hanging on by his chin.  Not one to give up, he actually tried to take another step. His chin came straight off the ladder and he fell backwards. Thankfully he didn’t make it any further up before falling otherwise he would have really hurt himself.

The SAME guy some weeks later tried to pass an opened, lid-less bucket up to a colleague on a scaffold at about shoulder-height from the ground. He fumbled this quite badly, and ended up with head and shoulders completely covered in cream-coloured render. His colleagues of course were very sympathetic: ‘Paul! That’s the last time I buy you an ice-cream!!’

On the same job, one of the specialist paint products being used was called ‘Demandit’ (Google it – I promise I’m not making this up). It was a large site - LegoLand Windsor since you ask - and the various gangs kept in touch using two-way radios. I overheard a conversation on the airwaves one afternoon when a labourer was being told to get some paint from the stores. The labourer sounded pretty confused and his colleague – growing impatient - radioed back, ‘Tell Phil (the storeman) you need the paint - Demandit!’ I didn’t actually hear what happened next, but I am reliably informed that the labourer grabbed the storeman by his collar, forced him against the wall and shouted ‘Kurt said GIVE US THE F***ING PAINT!!’

My all-time favourite prank has to be this. One of our guys was wearing particularly massive overalls one day – he had the cuffs rolled-up to make them functional, but they still hung-down quite low between his legs. One of his ‘mates’ stood at the foot of a ladder waiting for him to come down, holding a long length of tile-batten. With brilliant timing, the end of the tile batten was thrust between his friend’s legs, and spun around so that the overalls gathered around the end, tightening around his crotch until he couldn’t move. An accomplice armed with a hammer and nails then fixed the free end of the batten to the timber ladder. Hey presto this guy was stuck to the ladder and couldn’t move up or down. We all retired to the canteen to watch him try to extricate himself. It took him only a few minutes, but the sheer genius of the plan and fact it had been worked out well in advance was really impressive.

I am much older now, married with children, so fun is just a distant memory. 

Don't Ignore The Basics

Project Basics.

‘A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’ is a quotation that is variously attributed to Confucius or Lao Tzu. Whoever said it, I’m sure the next piece of advice was ‘make sure it’s in the right direction’. It’s my belief that most books on project management do not stress the basics enough. Sexy-sounding buzzwords are very nice, but come to nothing if your project is not fundamentally organised and resourced properly. The most mundane and the most dramatic practical examples give some perspective on the basics:

To The Moon and Back

One of the greatest projects man has undertaken is the moon-landings. In 1969 NASA landed a manned craft on the surface of the moon (approx 240,000 miles away). Two men got out, did some soil samples and other experiments, got back in their craft, successfully reunited with their command module and returned safely to earth.

By many measures this was a successful project. The development and implementation of the Apollo missions is required reading for project managers, and much of what the field accepts as standard thinking and practice was developed during this time. For now, it also shows the relevance of a strong sponsor who states clearly what they want and why it’s important. In 1961, President John F. Kennedy announced the ambitious goal of sending an American safely to the Moon before the end of the decade. At this time in the Cold War, the Soviet Union was ahead of the USA in the space race, having put a satellite into orbit in 1957, and a man into orbit in April 1961. Leaving the politics aside, there cannot have been a project with (1) a more clearly-defined and visible objective, (2) announced by a stronger sponsor in such a high-profile way and (3) for a more readily recognisable reason.

Your Objective. Motivated Much?

I have dealt with project sponsors who just want to ‘get on with’ their project without thinking clearly about what it is they want – or why. This would be akin to JFK asking NASA in 1961 to ‘do something’ in order to show the free world that democracy, it’s methods and institutions were more advanced and preferable to communism. This wooliness is often given as the reason for failed military interventions – the lack of a clear military objective, or a tendency for politicians to underestimate the bluntness of military action. Fluffy organisational notions about improving quality or productivity need to be developed into a clear, definite and measurable objective before a project can be said to exist or any progress can be achieved. Our project objectives can’t all be visible in the sky outside working hours, but the clearer and more visible they can be made, the better.

Contribute. Or Don’t.

Most of my work over the last 5 years has been for an NHS Hospital in Essex, where I have had the pleasure of working alongside doctors and other healthcare professionals whose day-jobs regularly involve saving lives and making people better. A constant problem was the lack of time that these professionals were allowed to contribute to their projects - i.e away from their day-jobs. Despite what you’ve read in the Daily Mail, my experience is that the vast majority of people in the NHS are dedicated professionals who really care about patients. However, the basic nature of public healthcare is that demand has always outstripped supply and always will. The practical implication of this is that staff are worked extremely hard on priority no.1, which is patient care. One downside to this is when staff are given ‘other’ projects to work on, they just do not have the time to contribute properly.

Staff who are absolutely crucial to project success - generally a department manager or a matron - are assigned to a project because their staff will eventually take on the result of the project (say – a refurbished area or a new unit). So their involvement and their ownership are absolutely key to the success of the project. Are they released from their day-to-day duties to take on this extra work? Almost never. The result is that any day-to-day crisis (staff sickness, outbreak of c-diff on a ward) will inevitably be more urgent than, say, a project meeting. Even when meetings happen they are very often rushed, distracted and interrupted by bleeps or phone-calls. It is not the fault of those involved, but the organisation that does not prioritise or allocate resources properly. The hospital should recognise that project contributors need to be given time to contribute properly.

The result of this attitude was that some projects regularly ran on and on for months with no tangible progress - the ‘Service’ side simply did not have the time to contribute, so no progress was achieved. As a result, the idea of being attached to a project became undesirable, and staff would take a step-back when volunteers were being sought. Who would want to be attached to a project that you believed would not get off the ground? The smell of failure follows you around.

I understand that any project would benefit from the almost unlimited funds NASA were granted to achieve their goal. I understand that the problems described above in NHS projects would be alleviated at a stroke with unlimited funds. My point here is that these conversations need to be had with sponsors at the earliest possible point. The entire team needs to be aware of expectations about success – and failure, what it means and what it feels like. This is what’s known as ‘perspective’, and it’s crucial for the project manager/director to ensure s/he gains this, maintains it and spreads it amongst the team. 

Uncle Barry (Not My Real Uncle)

Over 25 years, I’ve worked with hundreds of people on projects all over England. Few have left such a lasting impression as Uncle Barry, with whom I worked on and off for around 8 years during my 20's. A Senior Contracts Manager for a national contractor, he was in his 50's - a very experienced guy bursting with charisma. He was perma-tanned, dyed his hair a rich chestnut, wore dark wrap-around glasses (all year round) and a lot of jewellery. If you’re imagining a second-hand Jaguar-dealer from Essex then I’m describing him correctly. Barry isn't his real name, but I once saw a stranger in a pub nudge his friend and gesture towards my mentor; 'Ha! Look at Uncle Barry the second-hand car dealer over there'. So Barry it is.  

Aside from Barry's second-in command, whose job it was to actually run the site (and thereby prevent Barry from getting dirt on his patent leather shoes) he also employed a 'gopher' called Johnny. His responsibilities were: 

1. Keeping the site offices, canteen & meeting rooms clean

2. Making tea for Barry

3. Getting Barry's lunch

4. Getting Barry's shopping

5. Doing any other personal chore that Barry could think of

When you work with someone for a long period, you fall into routines. Mine included arriving at least 30 minutes early for work so I could get a daily 'briefing' from Barry. This actually entailed drinking tea and helping Barry with his crossword before doing any serious work. (Johnny's routine therefore included getting in 15 minutes earlier than me, so he could make tea, pick up Barry's paper and lay out photocopies of the crossword for those attending the morning 'briefing'). 

Uncle Barry had a name-plate on his desk with removable letters, and it was of course a real hoot to alter the letters and see how long it took him to notice. At the risk of revealing his real, full name my personal favourite anagram was 'Blurred By Gin'. 

I entered Barry's office one day and found him reclining in his massive leather executive chair with his feet up on the desk, and slices of cucumber on his eyes. Someone had evidently told him he looked tired, and to try cucumber. Johnny was despatched to the local supermarket to make this happen. 

On another occasion I came into his office to find him sitting in front of a mirror, a towel around his shoulders, having his hair cut and blow-dried by a young lady. I saw this on at least three separate occasions, on sites in Ipswich, London and Bath. (I have wondered why more mobile hairdressers don't frequent building sites - I think they're missing some business there.)

By now you'll have the impression that this older guy was being looked-after royally by us youngsters, and this was true. One day when Johnny couldn't be tracked-down, I was summoned to his office and asked to apply a corn-plaster to his foot, as his massive belly prevented him from reaching. 

One of Barry's foibles was getting to work earlier than anyone else. In all the years I worked with him I beat him to work just the once - at about 6am. My reward for this was a strange task - "In my car are two buckets. I just need them filled with gravel and placed back in the car". It turned-out that Barry was doing some garden re-modelling at home, and over a period of months had collected 2 buckets of gravel from site every single day – by my reckoning about 4.5 tonnes. 

Barry liked to impress clients and their consultants, and loved nothing better than entertaining them at lavish venues (on expenses, naturally). I was invited along to one particular soiree at an extremely lovely and expensive hotel outside Bath. As our fleet of taxis arrived Barry set about shaking hands, complimenting everyone loudly on how well turned-out they were and generally establishing himself as the perfect host and alpha-male. When we approached the main entrance to this regal building, the top-hatted commissionaire bowed and said (loudly enough for everyone to hear)

'Uncle Barry! How wonderful to see you again!’

His only previous visit had of course been an hour earlier, when he had paid the commissionaire to greet him like he was regular and well-liked customer. He admitted this to me a few years later.

The handful of stories above have not mentioned the long hours, the professionalism and the effort put in by a man whose colourful personality did much to hide these more mundane features. This was a man from an earlier generation, brought up to work hard and think on his feet. Natural charisma allowed him to dominate situations and to motivate and influence people better than anyone I have known since. People would bend over backwards to impress this man and earn his praise. I learned a huge amount from Uncle Barry about motivating and influencing people and groups, making them feel involved and connected to the project and its outcome. 

Those with whom I worked between 1991 and 1998 will recognise Uncle Barry instantly, and I'm pleased to inform you that I saw him at Christmas 2010. He is alive and well and enjoying his retirement - and aged 76 has not changed one single bit.

I'll Fall Over !

My dad has been in construction all his life. Leaving school at 14 and becoming an apprentice joiner like his father before him, he is now a senior manager nearing retirement. He has worked for many of the large contractors as site manager, contracts manager and project manager. He, my mother and their young family moved from North London to Norfolk as part of the London Overspill effort in the late 60’s, with the promise of decent housing and employment. He worked locally for six months, and then began to commute to London in search of work. He is still doing this, forty years later. He likes to work, my dad.

I worked on the same site as him in 1991 when I was 22. I always knew he was a hard-working guy but I was absolutely blown away by the attention to detail and the tenacity with which he pursued the job. He was THE MAN on that site. Everyone and everything got in the way of HIS job. You got on board or you got out of his way. He was first guy on site in the morning and last out at night. He OWNED the site and the project. It was HIS gig and he took it seriously and personally.  No time for fools, and no time for people who turned-up late or didn’t produce what they promised. This rubbed-off on me, and of course I have the same DNA, so no excuses.

One day I saw him limping around the site; he had trodden on a nail sticking out of a piece of wood. He was annoyed because he takes safety seriously, and the situation should have not arisen. A week went by and his foot had not improved, so he visited A&E.  He came back later that day.

“What do they think I am – a ballet dancer?”. The doctor had cleaned the wound, given him a tetanus jab and advised him to keep the foot elevated above hip-height for a week.

“I’ll fall over” he said. It hadn’t occurred to him that he was being told to take time off work, sitting down.

Here’s the thing with construction:  the guys on site are issued with construction drawings, showing them how their client would like things to look when the job is finished. (The issue of the client and their designers not knowing, disagreeing and/or not having the skill to complete their design is another – massive – discussion.) However: it takes a little more imagination and actual site experience to predict what things will look like not only on completion, but at various stages of the job. Where will materials be stacked? Is it safe to walk on that floor until it’s complete? How many different trades can work in that area during that operation? Where’s the fire escape whilst that corridor is being remodelled? Scenarios are easy to see when they’re in front of you, but difficult to predict beforehand, without real-life experience and in-depth knowledge of your subject.

For me, this is the essence of project management, and I continue to use the construction site as an analogy. You are concerned with organising various resources to arrive on site and to work efficiently, completing their task to the required quality. You cannot paint walls that aren’t there yet, much less put the roof on. If you bring guys to site too early, it costs money. Ask them to start their operation before things are really ready, and quality suffers. Too many men in one room means that quality will suffer, as will safety. These are not new rules – they were made up 100’s of years ago by men older and more experienced than me - but they are routinely broken, by people who should know better.

Applied to the wider world of project management, this means that effort is wasted when planning is not effective or effectively implemented. Knowing how your project –not just your site – will look and feel, and sharing this insight with other project members is an extremely valuable asset. Some rules:

1.    Breaking down your project into ‘steps’ will make each step feel more achievable – especially in those organisations where change is ‘difficult’ – you know who you are.
2. Do not try to paint walls that aren’t there. If a section of your project is delayed, then accept it. Trying to produce miracles doesn’t work, and will likely make things worse. See no. 4 below.
3. Projects by their nature are unique, and there isn’t always a roadmap. Time spent planning scenarios is time well-spent - it will also strengthen your team and enhance ownership.
4.  Don’t be afraid to re-plan if you see that your original plan is going awry.
5.  My dad’s foot got better, and if anything his squash game has improved.

 An experienced Project Manager will help your organisation with all these steps, and more. 

steve@malyonconsulting.com