human relations – Escondido Framework

“If you read only one business book this year, read this”

Patrick Nash, author of Creating Social Enterprise[1]

I knew very little about Patrick Nash when he joined me in 2019 as an angel investor and advisor at Tranquiliti, a start-up providing an innovative mobile phone app mental wellbeing tool for school students and their teachers. I didn’t know much more when we were bought out in August last year by Tes Investments[2], other than what I gleaned from our monthly video call with George and Aaron, Tranquiliti’s founders, which was essentially that Patrick knows a thing or two about social enterprises. He proved a source of sound advice to them and had a similar appetite for risk and the level of investment as me.

A couple of weeks ago, he invited me to a book launch in November. I explained that I would be travelling to New York but promised to buy the book and read it on the plane. Amazon already had “Creating Social Enterprise” in stock and a train journey created the opportunity to get stuck into it right away. It proved hard to put down and I quickly concluded that it deserves the “If you read only one business book this year, read this” accolade. Scrutiny of the spine shows the publisher to be Patrick’s own company[3], so I doubt whether it will get the push (although it would from any self-respecting business book publisher) in the direction of the shortlisting for FT Book of the Year 2024 that it deserves .

While I was studying for an MBA at the Stanford University Graduate School of Business and serving my apprenticeship at McKinsey, Patrick was doing alternative stuff and getting his first taste of commercial life at Nova[4], a whole food co-operative in Bristol. He drove the company van, turned the handle on the trail-mix mixer, learnt a range of valuable lessons about people, customers, marketing, margin management, cash-flow, risk, systems implementation – loads that you have still to learn when you graduate from Harvard, Wharton or LBS – and, importantly for his own development, undertook a crash course in double entry book-keeping (something I did learn in the first term at the GSB) from his father when the founder’s ill-health meant he had to step back from the business at short notice.

Scarred by the experience of putting Nova’s stock system onto computer (Patrick’s Learning#8 in the book is “Never Trust ‘should’” as in “This should work” or “It should be ready by then”) and burnt out by three years without a holiday, he took a spell away from work. A few months later, he discovered the Findhorn Community. Most people are drawn to Findhorn in the search for a more spiritual focus to their lives but Patrick was sufficiently intrigued by a conversation with its finance director that he joined it to work in its accounting and finance department. Rather than finding himself spiritually, he stayed on to lead the project to develop its Ecovillage (the first homes were built from giant whisky barrels), where he “learned much of the complexity of running organisations, raising funds, creating multiple corporate structures and leading teams”. During his ten years with Findhorn, Patrick learned a lot more about running a successful business, not least about managing external and internal stakeholders. He describes this time as a “significant phase in my social enterprise journey. Many of the skills I have deployed as a social entrepreneur were developed there”. But lessons and consequent skills are not just for the social entrepreneur, most of them translate into any enterprise, public or private, large or small, and independent of industrial sector.

Although Patrick has established twelve social enterprises, charities and values-driven businesses in all, his greatest achievement was establishing Connect Assist, a specialised 24/7, outsourced call centre supporting multiple clients from the public, private and third sectors (including Versus Arthritis where I spent 8 years as a trustee), employing over 450 people in a part of south Wales where employment has still not recovered from the demise of coal mining. The third part of Creating Social Enterprise tells how Patrick developed a string of businesses that evolved into Connect Assist after first joining the Teachers’ Benevolent Fund, a charity operated for the teaching unions. In this role he took the lead in some tough decisions, including closing TBF’s legacy residential homes for retired teachers (he is the first to call out the case for closing businesses that are loss making and no longer fulfil their purpose) and pivoting the organisation to become a telephone counselling service, setting him on the path towards establishing Connect Assist.

Patrick has great stories to tell, including how, along the way, he had the Dalai Llama as his boss when, for a few years in between the big projects that are the meat of Creating Social Enterprise, he was CEO of the Tibetan Relief Fund. He tells tales of scrapes with the law as a twenty-something driving a whole-foods van around the country, when the grass roof of a house in the Ecovillage bursting into flames, and the thrill and relief at securing financing for assorted projects at the eleventh hour. These come across with a freshness as though they only happened yesterday rather than ten, twenty, thirty or even forty years ago.

He has built the account of his career around no fewer than 44 learnings, drawn out at the end of each chapter and recapped at the end of each of the three major sections of Creating Social Enterprise. Most, if not all, are relevant to anyone who picks up the book. As someone who preaches the importance of purpose and values to a business (as part of the Dark Matter that makes organisations more than the sum of their parts) I turned the page corner down at Learning#3: Align values and commercial interests. I did the same at Learning#38: Empathy is the new superpower, as I have no doubt that being able “to understand another person’s thoughts and feeling is a situation from their point of view, rather than your own” is essential to effective leadership based on trust. And his observance of the final sign-off learning, Learning#44: Moving on when it’s time to leave was the one that positioned Patrick for life after Connect Assist where, from the comfort of home on the Pembrokeshire coast, he could join me in our support to the young founders of Tranquiliti and find time to write Creating Social Enterprise.

[1] ISBN 978-1-3999-47-6 www.creatingsocialenterprise.o.uk

[2] Tes invests in fast-growing tech to transform pupil wellbeing | Tes

[3] Enterprise Values – Enterprise Values

[4] Still thriving: see Essential Trading Co-operative Ltd | Welcome (essential-trading.coop)

Who is selling what to whom?

One of the Elzabeth Frink stratues that used to greet salesmen visiting the WH Smith Retail Head Office in the 1980s — One of the Elzabeth Frink statues that greeted salesmen visitng WH Smith Retail in the 1980s

I led a very successful team of retail buyers in the 1980s. In only three years they improved our margins by over 3.5% of the retail selling price.

The salespeople we dealt with didn’t stand a chance. As we were the market leader in most of our product categories, we were always looked after by the senior national accounts manager or the sales director – more often the latter, or that is what their business card said – whose status meant they were generally well into middle age. They would arrive in their Ford Scorpios, which would always be reversed into a parking space so no-one could see whether they had the top of the range model or vanilla version without the bells and whistles. In a less equal and inclusive age, they were almost universally male. In common with most people working in sales functions at the time, they were outwardly sociable types – you need to be comfortable with people if you are engaged in face-to-face selling – but whose roles condemned them to spend most of their time away from close colleagues, sitting in alone in a car as they headed off to schmooze their customers. More than anything else, they needed to be liked and to please people.

Our buyers were almost the opposite. Sure, they were great colleagues and a privilege to work with, but they didn’t need to be liked. They were the gate-keepers to some of the most profitable shelf space on the high street, and had a clear view of how they were going to make that space generate profit for the company. They were highflyers who had been recruited into sought-after graduate jobs and were still in their twenties and early thirties, were mostly female and often blonde, and tough as nails. Although we visited our suppliers’ factories and warehouses from time to time to understand their business, most of the key meetings took place on our turf. And if all this had not already put the buyers on the front foot when it came to seeking discounts from the (remember, generally male and middle aged) salespeople, their adversaries in the negotiation had been unmanned on arrival by having to drive past four well-endowed nude male sculptures commissioned by the company’s chairman from Elizabeth Frink (subsequently sold by a successor lacking any insight into the commercial benefit they provided).

On a recent visit to New York, I recounted this to a Wall Street banker who deals in fixed interest securities, “selling” (his words) to large corporate customers (again, his words) who are raising debt. He questioned my description of salespeople as needing to be liked. I had to explain that, although he was competing with other banks for the business of the big corporations, it was much less clear in his world who was doing the selling than when I was working for a market-leading high street retailer. I have not worked as Chief Financial Officer or head of treasury in a big corporate, but I spent a significant amount of time trying to raise money from private equity investors and from suppliers of senior debt (to provide financial leverage for the ventures that I hoped would make my fortune). It was very clear who was selling what to whom – I had the investment opportunity and was trying to sell this to the people with the cash. I wanted to be liked (or at least for them to like the risk-reward opportunity that I was pitching). Although, subsequently, I found myself counselling entrepreneurs entertaining offers from venture capital firms that they should look beyond the cash that was on the table and to understand that the investor needed to demonstrate whether they would be attractive people to work with and add value to the business they were “buying” into (ie do a bit of selling), most of the time, the people with the cash needed persuading to buy the opportunity.

The Escondido Framework posits that all commercial transactions (and this spills over into non-commercial transactions – such as those in politics) involve both parties selling and both parties buying[1], albeit with the balance of power (particularly informed by competitive considerations and the availability of alternatives for one or other party to the transactions) influencing the degree it feels to the parties as though they are buying or selling. This, of course, feeds through to what sort of people you need to charge with leading the transactions with the other party, how they should work, and what tools they need to do the job well.

[1] I have written elsewhere about the experience early in my career as strategic planning manager for WHSmith, working with WHSmith Wholesale, which was the dominant player in the UK distribution of newspapers and magazines. The business thought of itself as having retail newsagents as its customers and newspaper and magazine publishers as its suppliers. But, as evidenced by the way that the industry subsequently developed (all this, prior to emergence of on-line channels for news and for magazine content), the core role of the business was to provide a distribution service to the publishers, who were buying the distribution service rather than selling newspapers and magazines to a wholesaler.

Hidden in plain sight – what three statues can tell us about disability*

I have a disability and a history degree, but you don’t need either of these to know that the most iconic hero in British history was disabled. He stands on his column in Trafalgar Square with the result of two “occupational injuries” – the lack of an arm and blind in one eye – proudly displayed, as they are in all his portraits.

Our history is full of disabled heroes, known for their achievements and not defined by their disability.

Down at the other end of Whitehall is the statue to Winston Churchill, rarely recognised as disabled, but who suffered from a recurrent depressive condition that he described as his “black dog”. Unlike Nelson, Churchill’s disability was invisible and often glossed over, so you can’t blame the sculptor for not capturing it.

Head 150 miles north-west and you find a statue that, remarkably, conveys no hint of another hero’s disability. In Stoke on Trent, outside the Wedgwood Museum, stands a statue of Josiah Wedgwood, possibly one of the greatest figures of the Industrial Revolution: entrepreneur, inventor, innovator, radical and anti-slave trade campaigner. Wedgwood had his lower leg amputated because of smallpox contracted as a child. The fact that contemporary portraits do not show his prosthesis may reflect a desire on his part to conceal his disability. But his disability meant that he couldn’t turn a kick wheel and follow the family trade as a potter himself, so directed his attention and his prodigious talent to reshaping the industry he worked in.

Disabled people don’t want to be defined by their disability. However, we do hope people make “reasonable adjustment” (to use the words enshrined in the 2010 Equality Act) to help us mitigate our disability so we can achieve and contribute to the best of our ability. For some of my colleagues in the Disabled NHS Directors’ Network (DNDN), it is a matter of ensuring that there is decent physical access in the shape of ramps and lifts. For others, it involves thinking carefully about lighting, legibility and document suitability for text to speech solutions. At the DNDN, we adopt the discipline of checking at the start of any meeting if anyone requires any adjustment.

For me, it is relatively easy. My hearing is impaired by tinnitus, taking the form of a high-pitched ringing or screeching that means that I can’t hear sibilants and hard consonants even with my hearing aids. It is genetic rather than the result of having played in a rock band, and I slightly resent that the tinnitus also experienced by my father and brother, both of whom served in the armed forces, generated an adjustment to their service pensions (paid out of my taxes) because it was diagnosed as the result of exposure to gunfire.

It helps if I can see your mouth when you speak (which means colleagues dropping their Covid masks when speaking and allowing me to choose where I sit in a meeting). In the endless round of Teams meetings, it helps if you turn your cameras on and the closed captioning facility is enabled. It also helps if you don’t mind me occasionally asking you to repeat what you have said as it is much safer than me having to guess. And finally, please don’t ask me to engage in a mindfulness session that involves sitting silently: I don’t hear silence and this sort of mindfulness session leaves me tormented by my tinnitus!

Kate Smyth, (non-executive director at Lancashire Teaching Hospitals Foundation Trust) and I established the Disabled NHS Directors’ Network in 2019 with multiple objectives. Not only did we want to provide mutual support and share experiences among NHS leaders with disabilities, but we wanted to support disabled people throughout the NHS, providing role models from people at board level to junior colleagues, increasing the representation of disabled people on boards, and raising standard of service provided to patients and services users with disabilities.

It has been an exciting time building the network, discovering colleagues with a very wide range of disabilities: sensory like mine, physically disabling, like those of Kate who is a wheelchair user as a result of multiple sclerosis, and her co-chair, Peter Reading (chief executive at North Lincolnshire and Goole Foundation Trust) who had polio as an infant, or relating to long-term mental health or neurodiversity. It is also exciting that the NHS is at last “getting” disability as it feels that, for too long, it has been the poor relation among the Equality Act protected characteristics.

And, finally, as someone who spent the winter 1976/7 (ancient history for most people reading this) studying the life and career of Josiah Wedgwood, it is also exciting to have the excuse of Disability History month to celebrate one of Britain’s disabled heroes.

Workforce – “not assets to be managed”

I owe thanks to Ali Webster, Assistant Director for Workforce at West London Mental Health Trust, for opening her presentation at a meeting yesterday with a compelling quotation from a 2015 King’s Fund paper on talent management[1]:

“Successful deployment of workforce talent is about rethinking your view of your employees. They are not assets to be managed but rather people with options who have chosen to invest their aspirations and motivations with your organisation for a while and who will expect a reasonable return on their investment in the form of personal growth and opportunities.”

This is Escondido Framework thinking. You do not own the people who work for you – even if the way that you treat them may leave them thinking of themselves as wage slaves. You have secured their services in a market transaction in which there are two parties, selling to each other and offering opportunities to each other. And both parties are making an investment in the relationship, with both “expect[ing] a reasonable return on their investment”.

[1] Sarah Massie, “Talent Management: Developing leadership not just leaders”. Kings Fund 2015

The Uber employment tribunal decision through the prism of the Escondido Framework

How does the Escondido Framework interpret the impact of the decision of an employment tribunal in London that Uber drivers are not self-employed?

The Escondido Framework describes an organisation as both the solution space that exists between the external interfaces, or markets, and the structure, systems and processes within the solution space that mean that it creates value above and beyond what would exist in the absence of the organisation.

The first consequence of the employment tribunal was to address as matter of law as opposed to economics what Uber buys and sells. Uber hitherto has maintained that it provides a platform that brings together drivers and passengers – ie it provides a service that facilitates the provision of rides by self employed drivers to would be passengers who log on to the platform – rather it provides a transport solution to passengers using drivers that it employs. The judgement challenges the first model by effectively establishing that framework of the contract between the Uber and its drivers means that are being treated as though they were employees rather than self employed at arms length by the company.

The Escondido Framework is helpful in understanding how a judgement by lawyers considering employment lawyer can apparently transform the relationship between an Uber driver and Uber. Uber describes a relationship with the driver that makes them a customer of the company – a self-employed person who pays 25% of the fare secured to Uber in recognition of his or her use of the Uber platform. The Employment Tribunal found that, because of the constraints on the driver under the contractual relationship with company, the Uber driver is a supplier of labour – “an employee” – a factor of production in the provision of a minicab service by Uber to passengers.

The Escondido Framework is essentially neutral between the parties to a transaction: each is a customer of the other and is subject to terms that agreed in a contract of one sort or another, either explicit or implicit. Uber has certainly created value in creating and operating the platform, and thereby has created an organisation that occupies a virtual space bounded by market interfaces with drivers and passengers. Other interfaces bounding Uber’s virtual space include: those with its other employees – programmers and software engineers for example[1]; with its investors; and, as illustrated by this dispute and others with city transport authorities that license taxis, with the political and legal interfaces.

Given the restrictions on drivers, meaning that they cannot simultaneously be attached to multiple platforms, and that the passenger, although able to make choices among available drivers and vehicle classes, has relatively little ability to discriminate between drivers (I see a considerable contrast between Uber and other internet platform businesses such as eBay in this regards) it is hard to see Uber as a company selling a platform to users as opposed to selling journeys to passengers with drivers as employed labour, or at the very least suppliers that allow it to provide those journeys. In this interpretation, Uber is a very conventional organisation providing taxi services, with a highly efficient and well developed set of systems and processes that has created a lot of value, and in Escondido Framework language “solution space”, between the market interfaces of supplier/labour and customer.

Visualising the organisation within the Escondido Framework, in its most simple form as a Reuleaux Tetrahedron, one interpretation of the employment tribunal decision for Uber is that the interface with the labour market has moved and changed in shape. Alternatively, the judgement could be interpreted as a movement of the interface with the regulatory and political market place that reduces the solution space by limiting the parts of the labour market interface that are available to Uber (ie the self employment part of the interface is no longer available to it).

The outcome is indisputable. The solution space available to Uber is smaller, with a consequence that the latitude in terms of strategy available to its management is reduced, along with the amount of economic available for capture by the management and any other interested parties being reduced.

But assessing which of the market interfaces has changed to reduce the size of the solution space is more complex. Is it that the consequence of the legal judgement is that drivers will no longer be willing – as a consequence of the protection of rights arising from the employment tribunal decision – to work on the mix terms that they would previously have accepted? If so, this would represent a change in the position and shape of the market interface. Or is it that the market interface – which is collection of points representing an acceptable mix of terms of “employment” to drivers (payment, sick pay, holiday pay, employer imposed restrictions on availability, ability to take other work, ability to turn down rides, access to tips from passengers, discretion about routes to take, condition of the car that they driver must maintain etc) has not changed, but that the movement of the interface with the political and regulatory world (the market for political influence, which in Uber’s case may well have been influenced by other aspects of the company’s conduct), has moved in way that has removed some of these points from being available (see illustration below)

Impact of new regulation to reduce solution space

[1] Subsequent to this post some very interesting issues arose surrounding the way that Uber has positioned itself against this market interface, giving rise to repeated charges of sexism and sexual discrimination

Marketing, not just about consumers

At some point in the late 1990s, I wrote a short piece for Word on the Street, the Brackenbury Group’s client newsletter, which demonstrates one of the core propositions behind the Escondido Framework very clearly. The relationship between the organisation and all its “stakeholders” is at its heart a marketing relationship:

Marketing is too important to be left to the marketing department. Marketing departments address only the consumers of the products or services that a company sells to those it thinks of as its customers. But the truth is far wider than this.

Companies should apply the marketing way of thinking in all the markets in which they operate. This means not just the “downstream” market, but also to the “upstream” markets: funding, labour, bought in goods and services. The company is marketing an investment opportunity to its shareholders and debt providers. It is marketing careers and contracts to existing and prospective employees. It is providing opportunities to its suppliers with markets and channels to other markets.

The marketing mindset involves understanding the differing needs of differing customer segments, thinking about how to adapt your offer to meet the needs of your target customer and then doing it consistently, understanding the trade-offs they make between different attributes of the product or service you provide – of which price is only one dimension, determining where you can achieve an advantage over your competitors. It also includes what most non-marketing people understand as “marketing”, communicating these benefits to customers in ways that lead eventually to a profitable sale.

In most companies, marketing activity occurs sporadically in the functions that face “upstream”. Presentations are given to investors and financial PR consultancies are returned to put a positive gloss on results. Advertisements are placed, glossy brochures and upbeat web pages prepared, and roadshows taken round campuses to attract prospective recruits. Invtitations to tender and requirements lists are circulated, and subscriptions taken to web-exchanges as part of the sourcing process, whether for services, real estate, or components and real estate.

But in few companies does marketing explicitly underpin the way in which directors and managers in finance, HR, buying and purchasing, IT, property approach their responsibilities. They need to think about their “customers” in the same way that their downstream facing colleagues do about the people or businesses that are customers for the products and services the company sells. Applying tried and tested approaches from the downstream markets to the upstream markets to dealing with the financial markets will yield precious basis point reductions in the cost of capital and reduce paranoia about awkward investors or even takeover. In HR policy, it will reduce total employment costs – not just outlays on wages and salaries, or even improved retention, but also through enhanced productivity. And in purchasing it will translate into competitive advantage through lower total costs of supply, higher service and priority treatment.