Humour

The zebra shuffle

T A Balasubramanian concludes his guide to polish some equestrian strategies for surviving changes in the IT business.

It’s been a long day for Doodh Byramji. Known also as Doodh, or Doodhi, he is employed with Baffle Technologies, or Baff-Tech, as an adventurous design engineer. His present project is to get the inside dope on what Nawab Ghoda Ghallstone, founder of the Royal Ghoda Surf Club, or RGSC, is up to.

5.20 pm: The Nawab has decided to offer me high tea at his palatial bungalow. Here, in the sprawling garden, we are served steaming cups of Darjeeling chai in exquisite bone china cups by a beautiful girl dressed in a flowing green satin sari. On her forehead gleams a red bindi, and on her throat, a pearl necklace.

“My daughter, Dolly Ghallstone,” says the Nawab, proudly. “She has also been the chief architect on the thunderware team that developed Jockey.”

Dolly flashes a warm smile that makes me think of lagoons and mermaids. “Hello Mister Byramji. I hope you liked the Club?”

“Indeed, it is a jolly good place,” I say, trying to sound as glib as the Nawab. I am secretly thrilled by her melodious voice and unable to look away from her fascinating eyes, which are light green in colour. “You can call me Doodh, you know.”

“Ah, Doodh, I will let Dolly tell you all about the fourth rule now,” says the Nawab, graciously. He gets up and shakes my hand warmly. “I am off for a quick chukker around my estate, Doodh. I hope you found RGSC inspiring. If you are ever in need of a Jockey thunderware for your IT group, you know where you can find the best.”

“Of course, Nawabji,” I say, quite delighted at the prospect of being left in the company of this bewitching hostess. The Nawab trots away, shouting out to one of his lackeys to saddle his horse.

“Well, that leaves us to finish the tea,” I say, foolishly. “The first three rules, your father has already drilled into me,” I blurt out, mainly to cover up my awkwardness. “New ponies, old tricks. Throwing good grass after bad asses. Listening for the sound of rumbling hooves,” I read from my notes.

“I know, Doodh,” says Dolly, walking across to sit close to me. “The last rule we call the ‘zebra shuffle.’ To paraphrase the old dance song: paint your black line in, paint your white line out, and that’s the boogie-woogie, till you get a zebra.”

“A dancing zebra?” I say, trying to sound bright.

“Something like that,” she whispers. “Companies inevitably decide to bring things in-house or outsource them over and over again. The theory is that this is going to save a lot of money and solve all their problems. First they try black, then white. Eternal shuffle, you know.”

“Ah, I get the metaphor,” I say, inhaling the delicate scent of Dior as she tosses back her dark, curly hair.

“The boogie-woogie is when companies essentially exchange the challenge of managing the technology for the challenge of managing the service providers, or vice versa. They paint white stripes on black, or black stripes on white, and they still end up with the same zebra in the same place.”

“Very illuminating, Dolly,” I say, putting on my best student smile. “Would you say all the rules are equally important for RGSC?”

“Well, Doodh, I think ‘zebra shuffle’ was actually the most important for us. When companies like Flounder Corporation first implemented these applications, they were usually installed, at great expense, by a specialised systems integrator. When the bubble burst and luxury-class consultants who charged by the minute were no longer a viable IT strategy, almost all the outsourcers, including Flounder, pulled back ownership of these applications in-house. This brought the problems of managing these applications right to the company’s doorsteps, and provided us a direct avenue to sell thunderware to the enterprise. So we set out to build Jockey, the first innovation response management suite for packaged applications, about two- and-a-half years ago for Flounder, as their in-house system.”

“Which is where you are faced with a great wall of bureaucracy, I am told?”

“The Flounder Innovation Nagging Committee, or FINC, is presently looking into the innards of Jockey. You could say that we’re waiting for the gates to open before we can swarm in and show them how to ride the horse in the direction where they want to take it,” says Dolly, with a radiant smile.

“How does Jockey thunderware work, if I may ask?”

“Of course you may, Doodh,” giggles Dolly. “We have made thunderware quite practical. So the activities in Jockey are prescriptive, usually based on simple rules, like the ones you have been noting. This will ensure that the CIO and his architects, or archies, are not all dreaming of faraway scenarios and what business will be like in 2020. We have, as usual, coined a neat acronym where the key elements in our strategy are laid out. It’s called STREAK. Short for the sequence: scope, track, rank, evaluate, advocate and kick-off.”

“That’s fascinating. What do each of those words mean?”

“Scope is about sticking to corporate objectives, industry direction and business process,” says Dolly, using her slender fingers to count. “Track is an intense watch for new technologies but ensures this work is captured in a way that helps Flounder make sensible decisions. Rank will actually pick the winners—which is where our historic horse sense comes handy—and be able to explain the choices. That’s what the business bosses want to hear. Evaluate is to probe areas where knowledge is sketchy and the business wants to deploy new technology. Advocate, since no one else will do the PR, so any CIO and his archies on Jockey must make sure they influence decisions on bringing technologies to production. And kick-off is arguably the hardest but most important part of the race, which is to transfer knowledge and responsibility for a technology to those who will develop the operational system—the CIO and his troops at the end of the food chain.”

“And once you go through this sequence, Jockey beco-mes the winner?”

“Ideally, yes. But we have to handle the other issues raised by FINC. A nagging committee holds meetings to nag, and meetings, as you know, are dominated by interminable squabbling over issues of prestige, power, pampering, posturing and whether the chai service is perfect for the occasion.”

“I know, I know,” I respond enthusiastically. “I have been involved in the design of an advanced chai service robot that’s presently being put through his paces at our affiliate, Baffle Corporation.”

“You mean Chaibo?” says Dolly. “I have heard about him.”

“Maybe it would be a good idea to see if Flounder can benefit with a little service from Chaibo,” I smirk.

“Oh, Doodh, you are such a sweet pony,” says Dolly, as she pats me on my cheek. “Have another cup of tea.”