Domino. Tasler Nick

of objectives, sidestep a new threat, or seize a new opportunity. The protagonist here, Glen P., is actually a pseudonym for any Great Leader Executing a New Plan. He is an amalgam of the real leaders you'll read about in the following pages.

      There are two ways for a Glen P. to approach change. You can change by addition or you can change by decision. The Latin root of the word “decide” is caidere, which means to kill or to cut (think: homicide, suicide, genocide). Technically, deciding to do something new without cutting something old is not a decision at all. It is merely an addition.

      Change by addition is the hard way. It complicates plans, distracts leaders, frustrates team members, and pretty much guarantees that nobody will eat the quinoa. Not only is change by addition painfully slow, it also promotes nightly bouts of sheep counting when you would rather be sleeping.

      Change by decision is the simple way.

      Decisions are the most fundamental building blocks of change. Change stalls precisely because those decisions aren't happening – at the top, in the middle, or somewhere on the front lines.

      After his conversation with Priya, Glen Peterson realized that he was adding new priorities on top of old priorities. By the time you finish reading Domino, you'll see that the answer to Glen's question “could it really be that simple?” is “yes.” Inspiring people to change directions really is that simple. Contrary to what most of us have been conditioned to believe, inspiring change doesn't require uncommon intelligence, a charismatic personality, a complicated plan, or even an awe-inspiring vision. The truth is much simpler. It's not magic. It's a combination of science and common sense. All the stories and all the research you'll discover in this book point to one simple truth.

      If you can make a decision, you can inspire change.

       Sharp Turns and Wide Curves

      Assume for a second that you're on your way across town for one of your kids' birthday parties. You are just coming home from work in your car and your husband has the kids with him in the minivan. You know the way to the party, but your husband does not, so you'll have to lead him there. Along the way, you'll have to lead him around two kinds of turns.

      One kind of turn will involve following the curves in a winding road. These curves are in plain sight, and everyone knows they are coming for miles in advance. Unmistakable signs leading up to the curve say “winding road ahead.” Then, when you get a little closer, more signs say “curve ahead.” Then, just before you come to the bend, a sign will say something like “slow down for curve.” Even if your daydreaming husband missed all of those other signs, it is virtually impossible to miss the whole series of bright yellow arrow signs pointing directly to the curve while you round it. As if that weren't enough, the actual pavement rounding the curve is slanted downward in a way that practically forces your husband's tires to turn without him even moving the steering wheel. The road is literally turning with him around the curve.

      An intersection requires a different kind of turn. This time the road doesn't help you out. In fact the road almost dares your husband to keep going straight like the rest of the traffic is doing. So if ol' daydream believer is too busy singing along with Taylor Swift or ruminating over his fantasy football lineup to notice you switch lanes and turn, then he is going to miss the turn. That means you're going to end up at Chuck E. Cheez's all by yourself. Nobody wants that.

      Most “change management” in big corporations is devoted to the kinds of change that resemble a curve in the road. These are choice-less changes. They include things like software upgrades, reorganizations, and mergers or acquisitions. On Friday you logged into the old software system, and on Monday morning you logged into the new one. Love it? Hate it? Doesn't matter. The old system simply doesn't exist anymore. One day the sign above your office building said “Wachovia” and the next day it said “Wells Fargo.” (Ah ha! So that's what all the sawdust, orange tape, and blatant dress code violations were all about during the past six months. It wasn't a Village People revival after all!) The curve came and went and you didn't really have to do anything except show up. Even if the people following you around this curve are not paying any attention at all, those changes still happen. Of course, they are easier if you get “buy-in” from your team. But one way or another, the change happens.

      I'm not saying those changes are easy. But I am saying that those changes are impossible to miss because the road itself turns. You have to intentionally drive off the road in order to miss that change in direction.

      But not all changes work like that. When you switch lanes or turn the corner at an intersection, the people behind you have to consciously decide to follow you instead of continuing to go straight. These changes are choice-dependent – the people following you have to intentionally decide to turn with you. If you don't get their attention, they'll fly right by you. These are the strategic shifts that are becoming more and more essential for leaders at all levels of an organization.

      So how do you make sure the people behind you stay with you while making these more subtle turns?

      First, you have to get your followers' attention, and let them know which direction you plan to go. That's why you signal your turn by using the “blinker” on your car. It tells the cars behind you, “Hey, I've made a decision. I'm not going to keep going this direction anymore. Instead I'm going to turn soon, and when I do I'll be turning right and not left.”

      Second, you have to check your rearview mirror to verify that the people following you have decided that they too are going to turn. Since you can't read their minds you have to constantly check your mirrors to see if they have in fact turned on their own blinkers. If you don't see their blinker flash on, then you know you need to slow down and make sure you have their attention before you arrive at the intersection.

      Use your blinker. Check your mirrors. You can do that right? Yes, I thought so. Your mother was right. You are special.

      At the risk of spoiling the rest of the book – yes it's that good – here's what you can expect. The first section, Driving Change, is all about making decisions that signal a turn or a lane change for your group. You'll discover how to make those decisions, how to help your team stay with you during the change, and the research that explains why this is all so darned effective. You'll also learn how to conduct a proper permission ceremony, orchestrate a 90-day sprint, and create a series of waitlists for all that clutter – er, I mean, for all those important initiatives that need to be put on hold in order to drive home the change.

      In the final section, Adapt to Change, we'll zoom out so you can see how these core principles lay the foundation for a more agile way of doing what your team needs to do every day, regardless of any official “change initiatives.” Because, let's face it, when is the last time you weren't either trying to cope with, or planning to drive, some kind of change? As soon as today's change is over, there will be two more changes waiting to take its place. Change is to leadership what water is to fish.

      So without further ado, let's start eating, driving, swimming, and mixing more metaphors.

      PART ONE

      DRIVE CHANGE

      SECTION 1

      USE YOUR BLINKERS

      1

      SANDY'S RULE

      A few years ago, I was asked to give a talk at a global sales conference for a multinational technology company. In response to plateauing sales, the leadership team defined a change strategy to reignite their growth. Unfortunately, they had announced the change nearly nine months before and it hadn't taken hold. With the conference only two weeks away, they were hoping I could help.

      In cases like this where I'm hearing about a session just days before the event, my job more closely resembles triage than it does consulting or speaking. Since that happens fairly often, I've had to develop some shortcuts to get my arms around a situation quickly. One of these shortcuts involves writing the word NEW at the top of a blank notebook page. Then about halfway down the page I scribble the word OLD. As the clients explain their vision of the future to me, I begin taking notes under