When Cortez landed on the shores of became Mexico later on, he issued the famous order, “Burn the boats!” It’s testimony to either his leadership ability or his ruthlessness that his men didn’t shout back, “What are you, nuts?”

Through dumb luck (for the Spaniards that is) the Aztecs caught smallpox from Cortez’s crew and Montezuma despite his ongoing revenge, lost his empire. Cortez didn’t win because of his watercraft incineration but that hasn’t stopped it from becoming a symbol for total commitment to a result.

In business, burn-the-boats tactics are less useful than contingency plans. You can’t count on your competitors to fall apart all by themselves (they often do, but you can’t rely on it), and sailing back to Spain in an empty ship (that is, cutting your losses and trying the next idea) usually makes more sense than being either buried or eaten (filing for bankruptcy or being acquired at bargain-basement prices).

Many companies that have chosen to outsource IT burned their boats without realizing it. They signed a contract in which a change of heart is expensive, time-consuming, painful and risky — they can’t, in other words, go back. When negotiating an outsourcing deal, the business equivalent of a prenuptial agreement is essential. An outsourcing prenuptial agreement makes re-insourcing possible. Usually, it will include transition of both staff and intellectual property back to the client in case of contract termination. Otherwise the balance of power in the relationship belongs to the outsourcer, not the client.

That’s a very bad idea.

Imagine your CEO has decided to outsource IT and you’re part of the negotiating team. What do you need to know? Here’s one important fact: The outsourcer’s sales team is there because they love The Deal, not because they love running IT.

For the folks who sell big outsourcing contracts, closing a big deal is a rush. It’s a bit like a cocaine habit. When someone snorts cocaine, the user feels a rush of euphoria when the drug is inhaled (or so I’ve read). But when the drug wears off they sink into a funk, and to reach the same level of exhilaration they need an even bigger hit. The Deal has an equivalent impact on outsourcing companies: It provides a rush of euphoria as the deal closes, followed by something of a funk as the hard work of contract delivery starts … followed by the need for the rush of the next Deal.

These people don’t enjoy actually running IT. Running IT would interfere with pursuing the next Deal. If they’re smart, they’ll bring someone who loves running IT to their side of the table, but they might not be smart, because that individual … the future account manager … doesn’t love The Deal. The account manager has to deliver on the contract when it’s signed. That can interfere with The Deal.

That’s exactly why you’ll insist that the future account manager is part of the negotiating team. With this team composition, love of The Deal will keep the outsourcer at the table, unable to walk away, and the account manager’s need to run a successful account will prevent impossible-to-keep promises. (Don’t leave it to chance. When in doubt look the account manager in the eye and ask, “Can you deliver that?”)

There’s one other item to remember: You, not your employer, are your top priority. Look out for your own interests first.

Isn’t this immoral? Amoral?

No.

When your CEO decided to outsource IT he didn’t take your best interests into account. When the outsourcing company started the sales process, the process probably didn’t start in your office with your sponsorship. This is business, and altruism isn’t part of business. Nobody is going to look out for you except you.

So if you have any leverage at all, negotiate an arrangement that protects you. Have the CEO create a new executive position and promote you to it immediately. Or, become the outsourcing company’s account manager. Do what CEOs do and negotiate a golden parachute for yourself in exchange for your support during the transition.

While you’re at it, negotiate the best deal you can for the employees being outsourced. When they become employees of the outsourcing companies they’ll lose their seniority. It isn’t hard to insist on a contract provision that fixes this, but you need to ask for it — it won’t come automatically. If you become the account manager you’ll need their support. Even if you don’t, it costs you nothing.

And, it’s the right thing to do.

Confrontation doesn’t come easily to most of us.

When making the transition from staff to management, learning how and when to confront others is one of the most important skills to master. Nowhere is it more important than when you take over an existing department. Why? Hold on a moment and we’ll get there.

You have three rules to follow when you take on management of an ongoing operation. Assuming your memory extends to last December, you’ll recall two previous columns on the subject. The first explained why taking over a desk o’ death is preferable to inheriting a well-run operation (success is easy in the former situation and impossible in the latter), and provided the first rule governing the situation: Keep your mouth shut while you size up the situation.

The second column described the rule that applies if you find yourself managing a group you’d previously treated as the competition. Some managers foster an us-versus-them mentality as a team-building technique. While this technique is easy and effective, it has two disadvantages. The first is bad aim: You’re supposed to be competing with other companies, not with other parts of your own company.

The other problem? Your new employees aren’t going to forget all those disparaging things you said about them. Now that you have to lead them, what do you do? My recommendation was to focus on the future. You can’t repair or explain away the past, so they already don’t like you. If they also decide you’re weak — and apologizing is too-easily interpreted as a sign of weakness — your ability to lead them is gone.

This week we cover the third and final rule for taking over a department: Deal with your rivals. That’s where adroit confrontation comes in.

Remember the listen-don’t-talk rule? One key datum you’re looking for is the name of your principle rival. Almost certainly, one of your new employees thinks he or she should be running the joint, and may have applied for the job. If your hiring manager didn’t give you this critical factoid, you’ll have to uncover it on your own. Once you do, it’s time for that confrontation.

Machiavelli would have told you to publicly hang this miscreant. Kill your most dangerous rival and other potential rivals will get the message. In a modern organization, you can’t hang inconvenient employees (you did know this, didn’t you?) so the Machiavellian thing to do is to fire them.

Machiavelli wasn’t wrong, at least not from the perspective of effective maintenance of power. Leaving a rival in place can be dangerous to your career. Since you’re operating in modern America, not Renaissance Florence, you have a more subtle approach you can try before you terminate or transfer: Co-option. As soon as you can, meet one-on-one. You have two goals: To establish that you’re the boss, and to determine your erstwhile rival’s future. It should go something like this:

“I understand you wanted this job. That puts us in an awkward situation. I have to be able to trust you, you have to accept my leadership, and these are both unnatural acts. If you do accept my leadership this situation can work well for both of us. If you can’t, we’re both going to be better off if you find something different to do.

“The only way for this to work is for you to be my most vocal supporter. If you can’t, I’ll take the necessary steps and I’ll take them quickly. I’d rather not have to do that, but I can’t lead this department with somebody like you undercutting me.

“If you can work with me under these circumstances, it can be to your benefit. I’m ambitious enough that in a couple of years I’ll be looking for my next promotion. If you’re as good as we both think you are, we can make sure you’re the lead candidate next time.

“If you don’t think you can work under my leadership, tell me. I won’t resent it, and I’ll help you find another position in the company.

“Think it over. Let’s meet again next week — I’d like your answer then.”

Sound harsh? Maybe. Personally, I think it’s more compassionate than leaving someone in a situation they’ll end up hating while putting yourself in harm’s way.

And if you’re wondering … yes, I learned this the hard way. Twice.