Hierarchy: One Size Doesn't Fit All

Here's a thought.

You start a company by yourself.

You hold regular meetings after work with yourself and appoint yourself CEO, CFO, COO and any other three-letter title you can think of. Decision-making is remarkably straightforward. You propose an idea, discuss it with yourself and, usually, reach a unanimous decision.

Life is easy.

Except success brings its own problems. You cannot be everywhere and do everything, so you find a partner. You choose someone who has some of the qualities and skills that you are missing.

You continue the regular meetings. Decisions are still made together. Things seem fine. Even your families get along and have barbecues together.

Then the business succeeds.

There are five of you. Then ten. Then twenty.

You employ a full-time administrator. Daily meetings become weekly meetings. Not everyone attends anymore. Different people have different responsibilities and, inevitably, different salaries.

Without anyone formally deciding to create one, a hierarchy has appeared.

And it isn't confined to the organisational chart.

It follows everyone into the car park.

There is the new Porsche parked beside the ten-year-old Ford Mondeo. Someone is holidaying in Montserrat while someone else has booked a week in a caravan at the seaside.

We can tell ourselves that everyone in the organisation matters equally, but there are increasingly visible signals suggesting otherwise.

Then something interesting happens.

The administrator spots a problem with the company's latest plan.

A major new product is about to launch. The COO is enthusiastic. The board likes it. Considerable money has already been committed.

But she has seen something they haven't.

Scrolling through TikTok one evening, she discovers a competitor preparing to launch something remarkably similar. Their product looks better. Their marketing is already gaining traction, and they have an enthusiastic following.

Perhaps the board doesn't know.

Should she say something?

More importantly, will anyone listen?

She isn't a product specialist. She isn't on the board. She doesn't particularly like the COO anyway. Perhaps somebody will question her motives rather than her information.

And what exactly is her reward for being right?

If she says nothing and the product fails, it isn't her responsibility.

If she speaks up and challenges an important project backed by senior management, however, she has made herself visible.

Suddenly hierarchy has created a much more interesting problem.

The person with the least organisational authority may possess the most important piece of information in the company.

What should a good organisation do about that?

The organisation's motto is "Everyone matters."

But how do those words translate into employees actually feeling that they belong?

Perhaps organisational life is sometimes a little like Meet the Fockers. There is a "circle of trust". You are either inside it or outside it.

So where is our administrator?

She attends some meetings, but not the important ones. She knows the senior team, but she isn't one of them. The company tells her that her opinion matters, but the hierarchy around her sends rather more complicated signals.

Is she inside the circle or outside it?

More importantly, how would she know?

Because she has to answer that question before she raises her hand.

The moment she does, she becomes visible.

To be continued...

Cars may define earning, position in the company and status, but knowledge may not be part of this division