Humour

A storm of thundering hooves

T A Balasubramanian writes the fourth part of his guide on surviving changes on the IT racetrack.

Doodh Byramji, also called Doodh, or Doodhi, carries on with his investigation into the brave new world of managing changes in the IT business. Doodh, the intrepid Design Engineer, has been given the current task by his CEO, Baidyanath Baffle, the Founder and owner of Baffle Technologies, or Baff-Tech.

3:10 pm: Nawab Ghoda Ghallstone, Founder of the Royal Ghoda Surf Club, or RGSC, is taking me around his impressive office where rows of computer displays are blinking. On several screens, there are logos of a powerful racehorse, mounted by a small figure with a gleam in his eye. The brand name, Jockey, is prominent as it swirls up stylishly when the computer changes to screensaver mode.

“So that’s two of the four rules, Nawabji,” I say, doing a short recap from my notes so that I don’t lose my thread of the conversation. “New ponies, old tricks. Throwing good grass after bad asses. Then you mentioned Jockey, the thunderware that RGSC has fashioned to save trotter and drone CIOs from the trouble of experimenting with in-house architecture groups and the geeky architects, or archies, who tend to turn IT into their personal fiefdom, thereby giving their profession an undeserved reputation for megalomania, mystery and haughtiness.”

“You have a jolly good flair for drama, Doodh,” says the Nawab, patting my arm patronisingly. “And you listen well to my ramblings, which is more than I can say for myself. Fortunately, CIOs are always neck deep in a hay-storm, so there’s plenty of work for us here at the Club.”

“Isn’t that a little too opportunistic, Nawabji? I mean, taking advantage of the disadvantaged CIO?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way, Doodh. Makes us look like vultures, doesn’t it? Even so, one can’t deny that active opportunism is the turf of business, my boy. Isn’t that what all the major IT vendors are doing? Providing much-needed opportunistic relief to the floundering CIO? To be politically correct, let’s just say that we’re like the Red Cross, providing first-aid to the stricken, but sometimes even before they know they are afflicted. Most CIOs don’t know what they don’t know, so when we go in, we are, in a way, offering a ray of light in the dark.”

“That’s a more edifying way to put it, but I guess you’re right, Nawabji. Try our thunderware to dispel the dark, you might say. Why is it that it’s so difficult for a CIO to see what’s coming, or, as you say, going, or even gone?”

“Ah, Doodh, a new technology tsunami is not always visible, and almost never in the place where you’re looking. So the third rule is what I call ‘listening for the sound of rumbling hooves.’ And it’s not always easy to hear, even with your ears to the ground.”

“Why is that, Nawabji?”

“The early warning of a tsunami rarely comes at once—it usually comes in waves—or distant rumbles. As with real horse races, you either hear one long rumble and get the big leading stallion first and then some quick followers trying to keep pace, or you get a few quick runners first and then the big brute comes up from behind. When the small early horses come first, you find some companies hearing the rumble and building their own solutions or cobbling together whatever they have lying around to solve the problem, typically using those eager geeky in-house archies. But inevitably, the leading horse arrives in a cloud of dust and kicks everything aside. If the big fellow comes first, you’re already too late for the party, unless you’re the devil sitting right on top of him.”

“And that’s where you come in with your Jockey, eh?”

“You’re beginning to see the big picture, Doodh,” says the Nawab, appreciatively. “It’s not always megalomaniacs we encounter in the struggling CIO’s quick-and-dirty architecture teams. I know of one large company where the archies rule the roost. They do not have a touch-us-not mentality but they struggle to articulate the benefits of new technologies to the business and, not surprisingly, complain about a lack of funding.”

“They’re busy turning themselves into a bureaucracy, you mean.”

“Absolutely, Doodh. You put your finger on it. First of all, the poor deaf CIO doesn’t hear the rumbling hooves. Even if he does, he’s got no strategy to get on top of the lead horse other than the archies and their atrocious attempts to make do with what they have. Now, when we went into these companies with our outsider’s perspective, and started to look at what management software CIOs were using for their critical applications, we felt the rumblings before the ‘thundering hooves’ were due to arrive. One company, Flounder Corporation, for example, was shoe-horning whatever technology they had in their custom development environment and trying to get it to work with a new packaged application architecture. A ridiculous race winning strategy.”

“It’s a situation where you can step in now?”

“They could certainly use our thunderware, yes. They have been successfully testing a new suite of application development tools for the past six months, but it is now trapped inside their archie team, since their own colleagues will not adopt the supposedly better practices. A classic example of trying to do the right thing because there are no governance rules—or teeth. The archies have no means to enforce their recommendations. It is a key reason why we think thunderware in general, and Jockey, in particular, is likely to flourish.”

“So you have Flounder ready to saddle up on your horse?”

“Actually, we’re not sure they will, yet.”

“So what’s coming in the way, Nawabji?”

“Well, the standard Flounder method is to tread softly and then backtrack when faced with a problem. They have gone part-way by forming a committee that deliberates issues, ponders problems and eventually takes guided responsibility for looking at new technologies, and then spreads responsibilities across domain experts inside the IT archies group.”

“Are you serious?” I say, shaking my head. “It seems like they are turning into a nest of drones and burying themselves in cement.”

“Why do you think we call our invention ‘thunderware’ my boy? roars the Nawab. “It’s bound to shake ‘em up in their charpoys.”