Automist, another student-driven design innovation

One of the perks of my job is to serving on the Advisory Board of Design London, a joint venture between Imperial College and the Royal College of Arts.  There, as in similar programs that bring together engineering, design, and business students, I get to see the exciting ideas and ventures that emerge from the mix.

At Design London, MBA students from Imperial College Business School,
engineers from Imperial College of Engineering, and Design students from the RCA come together to design, engineer, and grow new businesses.  In addition to teaching an interdisciplinary design program, it also advances the role of design-led innovation for London’s many small and medium-sized enterprises, and houses a business incubator that helps launch new ventures.

The New York Times “Year in Ideas” issue just featured one such company (Kitchen Sink), which formed when two design students recognized how a solution in one corner of firefighting could be used in another:

Yusuf Muhammad and Paul Thomas,
industrial-design students at London’s Royal College of Art, learned
this after a school assignment prompted a conversation with members of
the Chelsea Fire Station. The firefighters mentioned water mist, a
firefighting technology used on oil rigs and cruise ships because of
its advantages in a confined space. After picking the brains of
specialists at the conference of the International Water Mist
Association, the duo began prototyping a low-cost means of taking water
mist into the family kitchen.

Their patent-pending product, Automist,
consists of a ceiling-mounted heat detector that triggers a pump under
the sink that sends water to a special unit at the base of the kitchen
faucet.

There, six high-pressure nozzles emit jets of
mist that rapidly turn to steam, creating an inert atmosphere that
starves the fire of oxygen and reduces the heat of the room. “It’s
almost like being in a wet sauna,” Muhammad says.

The team had previously won the James Dyson Award, where you can read more about the idea and company.

Image

Thinking and doing

One of the central tenets of our Center for Entrepreneurship's programs is that bringing ideas to reality and to the broader market is about effectively combining thinking with doing. Joseph Schumpeter said it well:

To undertake such new things is difficult and constitutes a distinct economic function, first, because they lie outside the routine tasks which everybody understands and secondly, because the environment resists in many ways… This function does not essentially consist in either inventing anything or otherwise creating the conditions which the enterprise exploits. It consists in getting things done [italics added].

Obviously, there is a great deal of "thinking" involved with getting things done, but none of it counts for much without the "doing." Perhaps more importantly, it's not about how well you think before you do but rather how well you integrate the two very different activities so that they support and build on each other. A longer post on this is overdue, but suffice to say there is a need in higher education—and the MBA in particular—for a new focus on "getting things done."

Rick Reis's Tomorrow's Professor email newsletter shared this quote from, and link to, a very apropos essay on the need
for college education to embrace the art and science of doing—not just
thinking.

"Analytical thinking is an incomplete educational agenda in part because it disconnects rationality from purpose, and academic understanding from practical understanding or judgment. In order to prepare for decision and action in the world, students need to develop not only facility with concepts and critical analysis but also judgment about real situations in all their particularity, ambiguity, uncertainty and complexity. They need to develop practical reasoning."

The essay appears in this month's Carnegie Perspectives, by Senior Scholars Anne Colby and William M. Sullivan write and is adapted from an article with the same title that appeared in the winter 2009 issue of Liberal Education, published by the Association of American Colleges and Universities. Both come from the Carnegie/Jossey-Bass book, A New Agenda for Higher Education: Shaping a Life of the Mind for Practice.

99 Nights

In the movie Cinema Paradiso, there is an allegory told which underpins
the movie.  It also applies, too well, to the process of innovation and
entrepreneurship:

Once upon a time a king gave a feast and there were all the most beautiful princesses of the realm. Basta, one of the guards, saw the king's daughter: she was the loveliest of all! And he immediately fell in love with her. But what could a poor soldier do compared with a king's daughter?!…One day he managed to meet her and told her he couldn't live without her. The princess was so struck by the depth of his feeling that she said to the soldier 'If you will wait a hundred days and a hundred nights beneath my balcony, then in the end I'll be yours.' Christ, the soldier ran off there and waited! One day, two days, ten, twenty…Every night she looked out of her window, but he never budged. Come rain, wind, snow, never budged! The birds shat on him and the bees ate him alive! After ninety nights he was gaunt and pale and tears streamed from his eyes but he couldn't hold them back. He didn't even have the strength to sleep any more. The princess kept watch…And on the ninety-ninth night, the soldier got up, picked up his chair and left!

and towards the end of the film…

Now I understand why the soldier went away just before the end. That's right, just one more night and the princess would have been his. But she, also, could not have kept her promise. And…that would have been terrible, he would have died from it. So instead, for ninety-nine nights at least he had lived with the illusion that she was there waiting for him…

This story resonated with our experiences working
with innovators and entrepreneurs. Particularly following the recent
activities of our students, noted in this blog.

It's all too tempting for innovators and entrepreneurs to labor away on their
dream, all the while ignoring life's (or at least the market's)
realities. Students can imagine, in the safety of case studies and
management readings, that they are preparing themselves to become the
stuff of business legends. Garage tinkerers can sweat over their
lathes, or computers, and imagine how they will spend their
riches and write their memoirs. For these folks, however, there is no
99th night. They are the dreamers without a plan, the tinkerers who've
been at it for 10 years or
more, never taking the steps to turn their ideas into action. It's
safer to believe in the idea of the idea than to take the actions
necessary to find out if it can be turned into a reality.
I'm
not arguing against sacrifice–just against unnecessary sacrifice. For
the folks who want more than the dream, waiting until the 99th night to
ask the questions wastes precious time that could have been spent
finding the answers to move the idea forward or move on. If
you want to build a better mousetrap, what can you do on the
first night to make sure the world needs one? If the big uncertainty
lies in the
technology, what can you do, on the first night, to make sure it will
work? In our programs, we ask our students to
test their idea and its validity in the market by talking to customers
and trying to sell them their product. Asking the questions and finding
out early in the process whether a customer sees value in your
technology or product gives you the answers you need to move
forward–whether it means revamping your product to fit the customers'
pain or scrapping it altogether.
I've
written recently about the need to take the right action in
launching new ideas and new companies–because actions ground entrepreneurs
in reality. Action grounds ideas in reality–by testing and improving
them. If you're right, great. If you're wrong, better to embrace that
reality on the 1st night, or even the 30th night, than the 99th.

It's
tempting to sit on a bench and dream of a better world, but better
worlds don't come to those who are unwilling or afraid to put their dreams to the test. They come
to those who are willing to ask the questions and do the work.

*The story is one taken, with liberties, from the Noh play Kayoi
Komachi, which tells how Ono no Komachi finds herself the object of a
Guard Captain's ardent love. To prove his love, she
requested, he was to visit her house one hundred
successive nights before being admitted. For 99 nights, he faithfully
visited her, only to die of exposure from a
snowstorm the last night.  In both cases, the tragedy remains.

–with Nicole Starsinic

Good showing for UC Davis entrepreneurs

Arcus_2ndplace
The past week provided a nice glimpse into the entrepreneurial activities happening at UC Davis. On Wednesday, May 21st, the BigBang! Finals took place. This is a business plan competition hosted and run by the students of the Graduate School of Management at UC Davis. Five teams competed in the finals (four of which participated in the business development programs of the Center for Entrepreneurship, but who’s counting…).  For more, here’s the press release: High-tech Wine Cap Design Wins $15,000 and a description of the winners.

In its 8th year now, the BigBang! competition has grown every year and is now acquitting itself quite nicely. The winning business got an automatic berth in the the DFJ West Coast Venture Challenge, which brings together the winners of the west coast’s 8 largest business plan competitions. In addition, two other UC Davis teams captured 2 of the remaining 4 wild card spots in the Challenge.

UC Davis, just leeward of entrepreneurial hubbub of the Silicon Valley, is finding itself in a very interesting position. Having quietly risen in the past decade to become one of the nation’s preeminent research universities (as measured by awarded research grants), it has remained relatively untapped for entrepreneurs and investors alike. That’s changing.

Creative efficiency or efficient creativity?

gusherIs the great paradox in managing innovation a red herring?

The paradox in managing innovation is the difficulty–if not impossibility–of simultaneously having an efficient organization and an innovative one.

Organizations must perform efficiently to survive and thrive in their current environment, but they must also retain the ability to adapt should the environment change. The tension is between adaptation and adaptability, between exploitation of current resources and opportunities and exploration for new ones.

A red herring is a device (literary, academic, or otherwise) that is “laid across the track” to divert or distract people from solving a problem directly. Like this definition.

Our obsession with the tension between the wild and crazy side of innovation and the button-downed nature of ongoing operations is distracting us from one of the more real problems in managing innovation.

A recent article on 3M describes the “struggle between efficiency and creativity” that is represented by their recent CEO succession. James McNerney came to 3M from GE, and brought with him Six Sigma, the efficiency program GE made a standard management practice in the 1990s. McNerney cut costs and improved margins:

The plan appeared to work: McNerney jolted 3M’s moribund stock back to life and won accolades for bringing discipline to an organization that had become unwieldy, erratic, and sluggish.

But, as the great tension would suggest, the plan came at a steep price:

At the company that has always prided itself on drawing at least one-third of sales from products released in the past five years, today that fraction has slipped to only one-quarter.

The author and a host of academics then lay bare the tension:

Those results are not coincidental. Efficiency programs such as Six Sigma are designed to identify problems in work processes—and then use rigorous measurement to reduce variation and eliminate defects. When these types of initiatives become ingrained in a company’s culture, as they did at 3M, creativity can easily get squelched.

The tension here is clearly between exploring for what you don’t know (the protagonist) and exploiting what you already know (the antagonist). Between color and light, and drab routine.

The terms exploitation and exploration harken back to the oil companies who used to have (and had to have) two separate divisions. One division was responsible for exploiting existing fields, in which productivity was measured in barrels/day and $/barrel, and improvements could be proposed and tested with relative confidence. The skills of exploiting were disciplined management, analysis, and the routinization of work.

But wells inevitably dry up and market demands grow, so oil companies also needed a division that continuously explored for new oil fields. The skills of exploring for oil were independence, risk taking, intuition, and an ability to live out of a suitcase.

This tension was immortalized in the organizational literature by James March, one of the founding fathers of the field, in a brief 1991 article entitled “Exploration and Exploitation in Organizational Learning.”

There are profound differences, however, between searching for oil and developing a firm’s next new products or strategies. One of the biggest differences is that, when oil is discovered, there is little doubt that it’s oil, that the organization is capable of exploiting it, and that it will contribute to the bottom line in some way at some time. This is more akin to discovering a warehouse of widgets just like the ones you’re already selling. Regardless of whether you drill 6 wells or 6,000, if one of them is a gusher nobody debates whether this will cannibalize existing markets, not work at all, distract from our current focus resources, etc…

I can’t recall a single innovative new product that was obviously and unambiguously valued in it early days by the organization. So there is more to innovation than simply exploring for new ideas.

What is missing is a very significant step that lies between innovation and operations (between exploration and exploitation): execution. At least, that’s what I would call it. It’s the process of converting an idea, even a prototype, into a set of resources, procedures, metrics, and marching orders that can enable an organization to effectively replicate, scale, and manage the new venture.

I move around in the worlds of design and innovation and have met a lot of wildly creative people. Having good ideas is actually pretty easy for them. I also work with a lot of smart people in operations, and knowing how to ferret out problems, reduce variability, and manage others to task comes pretty easily to them. The challenge is in how these people work together. Good ideas only help the company to the extent they can be routinized–exploiting the exploration.

The big challenge in managing innovation lies, I would suggest, not in building up two very strong skills in innovation and in operations, but rather in building the bridge between them–of developing the people and processes that facilitate the routinization of novelty. Of turning good ideas into practical processes that the larger organization can value, adopt, implement, and manage.

Forget 3M–think about Toyota. They are leaders in manufacturing efficiencies and also at exploring the new frontiers of innovation automobiles. How have they managed the tension? Read any number of books on them (but the original Machine that Changed the World remains the best read) and you find that they are extremely effective at recognizing those ideas that can be routinized and doing so before their competition. Sometimes decades before. Consider the Prius. Ford and GM had many of the same technologies lying around R&D, but having the ideas is not the same as converting them into manufacturing routines, processes, supply chains, and ultimately customers. That’s execution.

With the obsession between innovation and efficiency, the skills to execute–and the people who have them–are being largely ignored in modern corporations. And certainly ignored within business schools. Which is a shame.

7 Things to Ask a Potential Partner

In starting a business, one of the first and most important decisions
you can make is choosing the right partners. The success or failure of
a new venture often hinges on the performance of the founding
team–their mix of skills determines whether they can manage the
diverse challenges they will face, their ability to support and
challenge each other will decide how well they manage setbacks, and
the culture they create through their interactions will have a lasting
impact on the company.  Choosing a partner should be a difficult and
time-consuming decision.   What follows are seven questions you should
ask a potential partner before deciding to drive a new venture
forward.

1. How well do you know your partner?
Business partnerships are often equated to marriages. Knowing your
partner can eliminate many future uncertainties and headaches.
Whether you are partnering with a coworker, friend or family member,
make sure you really know your partner’s strengths, weaknesses, work
ethics, and family and financial obligations. Going with your gut–or
with longtime friends–can often backfire as we tend to focus on the
positive aspects of the relationship and ignore and underestimate the
warning signs. Asking  tough questions of each other in the beginning
will avoid potential  disaster in the long run.

2. What strengths and weaknesses do you both bring to the partnership?
Opposites attract. A good partner will complement your skills and
assets. Though you may share the same visions, having a partner with a
different skill set will enable you to double your strengths and
minimize your weaknesses.  Choose a partner that is able to challenge
your viewpoint and strategy, in an effort to find the best possible
solution.

3. Do you have a shared vision?
Although a strong partnership will often consist of two people with
different but complementary skills, sharing a common vision gives the
partnership focus, drive and ambition. Make sure ahead of time that
both parties are committed to the partnership’s success and are willing
to invest the necessary time, energy and money required.

4. What type of partnership will you form?
Put your legal affairs in order. Even partnerships with the best of
intentions can fail miserably if the proper legal agreements are put
down on paper.  At first, begin by putting in writing such things as
expectations (and agreements) about profit-sharing or ownership. Then
answer the harder questions: How will decisions be made (easy if you
agree, not so if you don’t)?  What will happen if one of you decides
to leave the business? Whether for professional or personal reasons,
this happens often); In the event of one’s death, how is ownership and
control going to be determined?

5. Do you like this person?
Liking your partner is essential to your partnership’s success. Much
like a marriage, a long-term partnership will suffer the same ups and
downs. Make sure this is someone you like enough to want to weather
through adversity when the going gets tough.

6. If your partner is a friend, how strong is your friendship?
Partnership with a friend can be fun and rewarding but also brings the
possibility of greater devastation. If the partnership fails, chances
are the friendship may as well. Decide ahead of time if your
friendship can withstand the inevitable disagreements, downturns, and
even dissolution of the business.

7.   What is the exit strategy?
Before the ink even dries on the partnership papers, sit down and
decide what the exit strategy will be. Having this conversation ahead
of time can prevent heartache and dissension in the future. Decide
how, when and why the partnership will dissolve. A well-thought out
exit strategy can allow partners to exit a partnership gracefully and
with dignity, rather than with recriminations and regret.

Between Certainty and Doubt…lies entrepreneurship

Is entrepreneurship more like evolution or creationism?

The question came up, sort of, in the course of the past week as I was teaching a group of doctoral students from the life sciences and engineering about innovation and entrepreneurship. In the few years I have been teaching such programs, I’ve been struck by the differences in approaches between the pursuit of science and of new business ventures–and more directly–by the necessary orientations of those preparing for academic careers in science and those pursuing new business ventures.

On the one hand, new ventures evolve as genetic recombinations of old ones. But on the other hand, a great deal of each new idea is novel and untested. Most new ventures die young, adding nothing to the next generation (think of all the code written, then lost, when the bubble burst) but others, facing the same harsh conditions, ultimately thrive. Why? Are some ventures pre-ordained to succeed (they are better mousetraps) or is the process more random? What makes the difference?

Luck matters. And so species, like societies, rely on large numbers to continue the grand experiment of evolution. But entrepreneurs, like newborns, are samples of one. There is also adaptation. Entrepreneurs, unlike DNA-based life, have the ability to change on the fly. Customers not buying what you’re selling? Investors balking? Ask them what they do want, and give them that. And finally, there is perseverance. It takes a while before investors, customers, and others can grasp the potential of something that is radically different from what they already know. Quick (or change) too soon and you cede the market to others.

Anthropologist Ashley Montague once said: “Evolutionary scientist have proof without certainty; creationists have certainty without proof.” The entrepreneur must live with both mindsets: continually seeking the flaws in their ideas–to adapt–yet also believing in the eventual success of their venture.

Such a blind faith in their ultimate success is a prominent characteristic of so many entrepreneurs, but so too is their adherence to the core values of the scientific method. Edison experimented continually with the components and manufacturing of his electric light (and so many other experiments). Ford spent millions installing, moving, and ultimately scrapping the mass production machinery in this Model T assembly lines. But at the same time, these two men were known for their dog-headed commitment to their solutions. It was this certainty, without proof, that ultimately led Edison to fight Westinghouse’s competing AC electricity standard and led Ford to resist General Motors’ strategy of multiple car models and annual improvements.

In fact, it was very useful to teach the scientific method that underlies entrepreneurship. And, as usual, the Wikipedia has an excellent overview of the scientific method:

The essential elements of a scientific method are iterations and recursions of the following four steps:
Characterization (Quantification, observation and measurement)
Hypothesis (a theoretical, hypothetical explanation of the observations and measurements)
Prediction (logical deduction from the hypothesis)
Experiment (test of all of the above)

Further, it states: “The scientific method is not a recipe. It requires intelligence, imagination, and creativity.”

Characterization refers to a careful framing of the phenomenon or problem such that its critical properties and the relationships between them are made explicit and accessible for observation. Hypothesis describes the explanation of the preceding characterization in such a way as to test the validity of that characterization. Prediction refer to the predicted outcomes that should follow if the hypothesizes are true (or at least remains unrefuted). “Once a prediction is made, it can be tested in an experiment. If the test results contradict the prediction, then the hypothesis under test is incorrect or incomplete and requires either revision or abandonment. If the results confirm the prediction, then the hypothesis is more likely to be correct but might still be wrong and is subject to further testing.”

So what role does the scientist (as a mindset, not a profession) take in the entrepreneurial process? They are central to creating the value of a new venture. Consider the value of a new venture as roughly the product of its potential and its probability. Increasing its ultimate market (or technical) potential is nice, but increasing the probability of succeeding also increases its value. Here’s where the scientific method comes in. Divide the venture into its technical, market, and business uncertainties. State (characterize) the problems in each; generate hypothetical explanations; make predictions; and run experiments. This approach will never completely remove uncertainty, but it doesn’t have to. The value of any new venture increases with every non-trivial drop in the uncertainty that surrounds it.

The entrepreneur must, despite his or her blind faith in the inevitable success of their pursuits, remain a scientist–continually seeking a better understanding (and characterization) of the problems; understanding the assumptions they make (the hypotheses); acting on those assumptions; and treating those actions like the experiments in evolution that they are. That, and an undying faith that you will succeed.