We need more engineers.

Not just in IT, bridge design, and electronics. We need them everywhere decisions are being made.

I’m not limiting engineers to those who know the niceties of load and stress computations, CPU design, gear ratios and such. No, to me, an engineer is anyone who understands you can’t cool down the kitchen by leaving the refrigerator door open.

Many business executives aren’t engineers, but they should be. Here’s what I mean:

  • Cooling off the kitchen is a metaphor for across-the-board cost-cutting.
  • The hot air blowing out of the back of the refrigerator is parallel to the impact of the all-too-common across-the-board cost-cutting that impairs the business more than it saves anything.

Any engineer knows all refrigerators do is pump heat out of an enclosed space and into a larger space. Leave the door open and the larger space and enclosed space become one and the same: The cooled air just mixes with the heat being pumped into the same space – even with perfect efficiency the net effect is zilch.

This describes most cost-cutting exercises pretty well, and especially cuts to the IT budget, because when costs are already too high, less automation probably won’t help. More might not help either, depending on what exactly is causing costs to be too high. But unless what’s being cut out of the IT budget are stupid ideas that shouldn’t have been approved in the first place, forcing employees to operate either manually or with obsolete technology just isn’t going to increase efficiency.

Which gets to the heart of why we need more engineers: Engineers generally think in terms of fixing problems rather than symptoms. So should business decision-makers.

So if a business is in trouble … if costs are too high … decision-makers need to first ask themselves some basic questions, like, are costs really too high? Or is revenue too low? Or is risk what’s too high, it isn’t being managed well, and as a result expensive problems that could have been prevented haven’t been?

Too many business executives act as if “our costs aren’t in line with our revenues” is a proper root cause analysis when profits are unsatisfactory. An engineer would insist on knowing how the business is supposed to work; then on identifying which of its moving parts aren’t moving as they should; and then on fixing the parts that are broken.

So if the problem is actually revenue, an engineer would determine whether the root cause is uncompetitive products, customer disservice, unappealing marketing and advertising, or a sales force that isn’t very good at selling. And fix it.

If the problem really is excessive cost, an engineer would figure out whether the root cause is cumbersome and inefficient processes, obsolete tools and technology that force employees into cumbersome and inefficient processes, poorly trained and unmotivated employees, or something else. And then the engineer would fix the actual problem.

Understand, this might sound simple. Conceptually, it is simple.

But it’s nothing like simple, because underneath it is the need for a clear understanding of how the business works … of the buttons and levers company management can push and pull that lead customers to buy products and services in acceptable volumes and margins.

This isn’t always complicated, but it can be complicated enough to tempt decision-makers to cut out a step or two. For example, one day in the distant past, the executives leading a not-entirely mythical automobile manufacturer discovered they could bump up the company’s profits by financing the purchase of their cars instead of leaving that business to the local banks.

Then they discovered they could sell more cars by discounting them, making up the slack by making more loans. And then they “discovered” the company was really in the financing business, and cars became just a means to an end.

Which led to its executives no longer caring whether their cars were desirable products. Instead it designed and built cars some people were willing to buy if they were cheap enough.

Which led to round after round of pointless cost-cutting, because cost wasn’t the company’s problem.

What was? It had forgotten how its business worked: With no cars to sell that people wanted to buy it ground to a halt, even though its profits no longer came from car sales.

The company’s execs outsmarted themselves.

It’s why we need engineers.

So maybe you should add an interview question for managerial candidates: “If you open the refrigerator door, how much will it cool off your kitchen?”

It happened again this year.

For the sixteenth consecutive year since I first started publishing on a regular basis, not one graduating class invited me to be their commencement speaker. It’s too bad, because I’m ready:

Ahem. Tap tap tap … is the mike working? It is? Good.

You’re members of the millennial generation. You’re all supposed to be like something or other, just like members of Generation X, Generation Y, Boomers, and whatever were supposed to be like something or other.

Whether you are or aren’t, I don’t much care, because if the best I can do in figuring out who you are is based on your age, I’m as pathetic as if your attitudes and behavior were actually predictable because of your age.

Nonetheless, when you leave here today you’ll probably start looking for a job, and the people who will be interviewing you will have read innumerable articles preparing them for dealing with millennials.

They’ll have read you’re more interested in what they can do for you than in what you can do for them. They’ll have read you have helicoptering parents who have shielded you from the realities of the world. They’ll have read you have no work ethic, are entitled, and can’t spell, too.

Disappoint them.

There’s a good chance the person who expects you to have no work ethic came of age in the 1960s, when we were all tuning in, turning on, and dropping out. Take care not to bring this up. Nobody likes to be told they’re a colossal hypocrite, especially when that’s what they are.

And if they didn’t grow up in the ’60s, they might have entered the workforce in the ’70s, when disco was king. Don’t bring this up either – nobody likes to be reminded they once wanted to dance just like John Travolta.

In any event, welcome to the 2013 employment marketplace. Even if you were a business major, I doubt anyone ever told you what you’re in for. Let me be the first.

Oh, wait. I can’t, because work environments are no more uniform and stereotypeable than you are. There are great places to work and there are dismal ones. There are marvelous leaders and putrid dinks. There are supportive teams and poisonous backstabbing circles.

Your ability to figure out what you’re likely to be dealing with before you sign up as an employee will be distinctly limited, and for many of you it won’t matter if you could: You need a job and this is the only one available.

To get and keep the job, whatever it is, remember this: You’re the only person interested in what’s best for you. Keep it firmly in mind, and just as firmly to yourself. When you talk with a prospective employer all that matters is what you can do for the person you’re talking to. Don’t bring up your expectations, your aspirations, the kind of work environment you’ll thrive in … none of it.

If someone asks, keep your answer as brief as possible, because this is what’s called a disqualifying question — one where you can do yourself some harm, but can’t do yourself any good. Give a nice, safe, short answer and turn the conversation back to what you can do for them. Do this to be selfish — it’s how you’ll get the job.

Project an aura of professionalism, which is, “I have no problems, I cause no problems, and I’ll solve your problems.” Also, project versatility … you aren’t going to say no to an assignment just because you haven’t been trained to handle that specific type of challenge.

Oh … and don’t even think of discussing the compensation you want. Most likely there’s no point to it: For your first job, they’ll offer you the standard going rate and as you have no track record, only a transcript, the going rate is what you’re going to get. For your first job, half your compensation consists of what the job will do for your resume.

Why aren’t your needs just as important as your prospective employer’s needs? They are. To you. But that doesn’t matter, and if the point isn’t clear, imagine that instead of looking for a job, you’re shopping for a car. And as you do, the people trying to sell you one talk about nothing except how much it matters to them that you buy it, because that will help them win this month’s sales contest and increase their commissions.

You don’t care about that. You care about getting the best car for the best price.

Welcome to the 2013 job market. You’re the car.