Bernhard Schieber

Who Has to Cross the Distance

Executive Essay

An executive essay on help and support — why each side waits for the other to move first, and how to audit who goes

An executive takes on a larger role. Within a few months he knows that something is missing: a field he never had to master, a kind of negotiation he has never led, a body of knowledge the new position assumes he has. He expects the company to notice and to offer what the role requires. The company has a development budget, a catalog and a policy that invites every manager to raise their needs in the annual review. It expects him to ask.

Both expectations are reasonable. Both are held in good faith. And for a year neither side moves. When the gap finally shows, it is no longer a development need. It is a performance problem, and it is filed under his name.

Every organization holds resources that someone inside it needs to do their work: knowledge, skills, tools, budget, time, access to whoever knows or whoever can decide. Between the resource and the task there is a distance made of requests, tickets, approvals, budget cycles, knowing whom to ask, and the willingness to be seen not knowing. Someone has to cross it. And the parties need not be an individual and a company: a team waits for the organization, a business unit for headquarters, a company for its sector or its regulator. At every scale, an agent can be the one that holds the resource or the one that holds the task, and at every scale the same question decides the outcome. That choice, who moves first, decides whether support arrives at all, and it is almost never written down. Organizations measure what they offer: the catalog, the budget, the hours of training delivered. They do not measure who was expected to take the first step, or how much never moved because each side was waiting for the other.

What follows is a working model of how support fails to arrive, at four scales, and where each scale breaks. It is a diagnostic of initiative, not a program.

Asking costs more than it looks

Start with the individual, because that is where the waiting is hardest to see.

To ask for support is to name what you lack. For anyone it costs time and attention; for an executive it costs more, because the role was given on the understanding that he could carry it. Asking for training in the second quarter of a new appointment can read, to him and to those around him, as a confession that the appointment was premature. So the request is postponed until it can be made safely, which is usually never.

The capacity to reach for support is also distributed against need. The individual with room in the week can look for the course, find the expert, write the business case. The individual under the heaviest load, the one the gap is hurting most, has the least time to go looking. The newcomer does not yet know who knows. Each of them does what capable professionals do: works longer, improvises, covers the gap with effort. The organization sees someone coping. The withdrawal wears the mask of competence.

Audit implication: count what stalled without a request. Ask your strongest executives and specialists what they have stopped asking for, and your newest ones whom they would ask. Silence on the request side is not evidence that nothing was needed.

The favor that keeps a ledger

Move up one scale. Before there is a catalog there is a colleague: the one who knows the system, the expert down the corridor, the peer who has done this before. Most real support in organizations travels this way, informally and fast, and it works better than anything formal.

It also keeps an account. Asking draws on a balance of favors given and received, and the newcomer has none. The expert who is asked too often becomes a bottleneck, and under time pressure helps by doing the work instead of teaching it, so the same colleague comes back with the same question next month. Knowledge stays in one head. The group grows fond of its indispensable member, and the member grows tired, and nobody notices that the team can no longer function the week that member is away.

Where the current rotates, where today’s helper was yesterday’s learner and will be again, the group spreads capability. Where it runs in one direction only, it spreads dependence.

Audit implication: test whether support transfers capability or creates return visits. Ask who in the group could not do their work if one particular member were absent for a month. That name marks where support has been given instead of built.

The catalog that waits to be ordered

One scale up, support becomes procedure. The learning catalog, the shared service center, the IT queue, the approval threshold for an external program. Each applies the same rule to everyone, and calls that fairness. The rule is blind to the individual. That is exactly the problem.

A process that waits to be requested sorts individuals and teams by their capacity to request: time, confidence, a manager who sponsors, a network that knows the route. It does not sort them by what their task requires. The overloaded, the newly promoted and those who work where asking signals weakness are the least likely to apply, and they are usually the ones the task is outrunning. The training record then fills with hours delivered to the already capable. The organization reads the absence of requests as the absence of need, reports full use of the budget, and certifies its own efficiency by the individuals and teams who never came forward.

When the gap surfaces later, after the promotion, after the failed project, it is diagnosed in the individual. Nobody asks why the support that existed did not move toward the one who needed it.

Audit implication: compare who asked with who needed. For every role change of consequence in the last two years, establish whether support arrived before the gap showed or after. If it came after, the process was waiting, and the cost was charged to the individual and the task.

The waiting built into the rules

The largest scale is the hardest to see, because everyone inside it takes it for granted. Beyond any company, the rules of a society carry an assumption about who moves first in matters of development. In one place it is the employer’s duty to train; in another it is the individual’s responsibility to keep up; in many it is both, which in practice means neither. Public programs assume that individuals will seek retraining; individuals assume that someone will offer it. Each side holds its expectation in good faith.

Reforms shorten the queue: more funding, simpler applications, better catalogs. They rarely change who is expected to step forward. A shorter distance laid on the one least able to cross it is still laid on the wrong side.

Audit implication: for each support policy your organization follows, ask what it still requires the individual, team or unit with the least time, confidence or network to do first. If the answer is “apply,” the policy has shortened the crossing without changing its direction.

The four scales are one decision

These are not four layers to be examined one after another. They are present together in a single moment.

Return to the executive who needs training. Whether he asks is his decision, and his decision is shaped by what the team does with members who admit a gap. Whether anything happens next depends on the organization’s process: the budget cycle, the approval, the catalog. And both he and the company carry, without discussing it, the assumption their society holds about whose job it is to go first. Remove any one of these and the outcome changes. An individual willing to ask meets a process that answers in the next fiscal year. A process that offers meets a team where accepting the offer means losing face.

Audit implication: any diagnosis that looks at one scale misses three that are present in the same decision. Ask why support did not arrive at all four at once: what it cost the individual to ask, what the group does with the asking, what the process requires before it moves, and what everyone assumed about whose step it was.

What to do with this

This is a diagnostic instrument, not a scorecard, and it does four things.

It changes the question. Stop asking what do we offer? The catalog can answer that, and the catalog was never the problem. Ask who was expected to move first, and did anyone? That question can almost always be answered, and the answer names the failure.

It assigns the first step. For every role change, every new hire, every critical task, decide in advance who moves first and say so by name. By default, the side that holds the resources moves toward the side that holds the task. Waiting to be asked is not neutral. It is a decision that the other side should bear the cost of moving.

It locates the failure by scale. The cost of asking at the individual level. The ledger and the dependence at the group level. The process that sorts by the capacity to request at the organizational level. The unspoken assumption about whose turn it is at the societal level. Four scales, four distinct things to look for.

It guards against a familiar substitute. When support finally moves first, it must arrive to equip, not to inspect. An assessment of who deserves the investment, sent toward the individual or the team in place of the investment itself, restores the gate it was meant to remove.

The executive and the company in the opening were not careless. Each was waiting, reasonably, for the other. The gap was in neither of them. It was in the space between, where nobody had been told that the first step was theirs.

That question will not make your organization generous. It will make it accurate about where its support actually goes, and about who was left standing at the start of a distance that everyone assumed someone else would cross.