I guess when your logo is a bulls-eye, you can’t be too surprised when people take aim.

KJR has refrained from commenting on the Target situation on the grounds that (1) it’s received plenty of coverage elsewhere; (2) we don’t play dog pile on the rabbit around here (but we do occasionally refer to ourselves with the Royal We); and (3) when it comes to information security, what we know is that it takes people who know a lot more than we do.

But really, who could resist, especially when the single most notable and important aspect of this mess — the complete and utter failure of PCI-DSS certification (Payment Card Industry Data Security Standard) to prevent such a massive theft — has received little attention from the trade press and just about none at all from mainstream media accounts.

Keep in mind that PCI certification is 100% private-industry designed, funded, and practiced. It came from the payment processing industry, with no government intervention anywhere in sight, and few or no “perverse incentives” to maim the marketplace either.

It’s the industry’s attempt at self-regulation, and it’s failed dismally. How can that be, given how much money is at stake?

Answer #1: It doesn’t matter how much money is at stake. We’re talking about an industry standard, and all industry standards share the same fundamental challenge: The process of developing and ratifying them, is, at its core, legislative. There are lots of stakeholders, who eventually group into disagreeing (and often disagreeable) factions, resulting in a design that’s chock-full of political compromises.

Which isn’t a criticism of standards-creators. Creating even a mediocre standard is hard, painstaking, time-consuming work. As with any large-scale consensus the problems are intrinsic to the process, not the participants.

Answer #2: Standards-driven certifications are yet another example of Metrics Gone Bad, which is what happens whenever a metric becomes the point of the exercise, instead of actual success.

Certifications are metrics, which is to say they’re supposed to be a way of telling whether or not someone has achieved the results they’re supposed to achieve. What, you thought a metric had to be a number?

And every time the metric becomes the point, whether it’s a college student wanting a diploma instead of an education; a supplier wanting ISO-9000 certification instead of wanting top-notch internal processes; or a retailer seeking PCI compliance instead of well-protected customer data … every time the metric becomes the point it prevents something good from happening.

And once you have a metric, it’s rare that it doesn’t become the point.

Boiled down to basics, certification means passing a test. So far, so good — tests are designed to gauge knowledge and competence. But (and you knew “but” was hanging over that sentence like the Sword of Damocles) …

Those taking the test have a personal stake in passing that exceeds their personal stake in acquiring knowledge and becoming competent. If they’re job-seekers their careers depend on it; if they’re retailers, their ability to receive payments with something other than cash depends on it, if they’re cramming for the SAT their college entrance and future careers depend on it.

Those who seek certifications are incented to pass the test. Achieving actual competence becomes the byproduct, not the point.

Answer #3: What PCI provides is a manual for data thieves. By spelling out what is protected, and how, it spells out what isn’t protected and is vulnerable. Call me naïve; this doesn’t strike me as the best idea anyone ever had.

Which brings us to Target, which can certainly afford the best information-security money can buy (okay, the second-best after the NSA, but let’s not quibble) and is undoubtedly PCI certified. And yet …

Here’s what I don’t get. I’m imagining myself sitting inside Target’s firewall. Its head of information security isn’t even trying to keep me out. Quite the opposite, he’s giving me every credential I ask for. I’m trying to track down where the POS modules reside so I can attach malware to them … without showing up in any server logs … then to figure out the protocols for propagating POS software updates to the stores.

But a company the size of Target has thousands of servers and hundreds, maybe thousands of applications in its portfolio, none named POS_SourceCode_ComeAndGetMe.cxx.

Without documentation or colleagues to consult, I wouldn’t know where to start.

Would you?

* * *

Fifteen years ago in the IS Survival Guide, a simple formula for predicting which software products will succeed and which ones will fail. It works!

Imagine your company, like so many others, makes use of some form of stacked ranking system in its employee performance management process.

Now imagine you’re the CIO, and don’t much like it.

What do you do about it?

Business executives find themselves in this sort of situation all the time. It’s why politics is a good thing, in spite of the word’s negative connotations: Politics is the art of finding a way forward when people disagree about the best path forward.

Which is pretty much every time people (1) have to find a path forward; and (2) aren’t alone.

Another piece of the puzzle: There’s an immeasurable but critical aspect to personal effectiveness when you’re an executive, called political capital. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. If you haven’t, you probably haven’t accumulated any. If you have, you know … it’s a combination of trust earned, favors provided, and reputation acquired for not needlessly making waves over every decision you don’t completely agree with.

If you’ve accumulated political capital, live with stacked ranking, and don’t like it, you probably … and probably, wisely … decided there’s no point expending any trying to fight it.

When you’re an executive, that is, you often have to support positions you don’t entirely agree with, and sometimes have to support positions you vehemently disagree with.

Support? Yes, support. From a personal-integrity perspective, this can be something of a challenge, as when someone who reports to you asks you point blank how you can defend such a cockamamie system. Your alternatives:

  • “Yes, it is a cockamamie system, but you know what those bureaucrats in HR are like.”
  • “As leaders we need to take responsibility for recognizing that some employees aren’t measuring up. This is part of it.”
  • “Gee, I’m late for a meeting. We’ll have to continue this conversation another time.”

Better but not good: “I don’t fully agree with a lot of things. When I don’t I’m not always right. Regardless, when the organization makes decisions I support them because that’s part of being a leader. And no, I won’t list which ones I do and don’t like.”

However you decide to answer, stacked ranking really fits only a very particular circumstance — an organization plagued with complacency and mediocrity, and overstaffed because of it. Any place else it’s a seriously bad idea.

So let’s pretend, just among ourselves, you think getting rid of stacked ranking is important enough that you’re willing to do something about it. Your first step is to find out why the company first adopted the practice. Make sure the original root cause has been fixed. Otherwise, don’t even try.

If you’re still willing to expend some of that political capital we were talking about earlier, as with financial capital, a willingness to spend the political kind isn’t the same as the knowing what to spend it on.

Your down payment is discreetly discussing the matter with your closest confidants among your fellow executives. If you’re all alone in this, give up, and unless they think there’s likely to be significant support for the change among the rest of the executive leadership team, give up.

Next: Amass literature that supports your position, and that offers practical alternatives, because whatever its flaws, stacked ranking is practical. Also, with your confidants, accumulate a half-dozen to a dozen examples of good employees who left the company because of the system.

Next: Assess the head of Human Resources. He or she might be wanting to change the system, but not brave (or foolish) enough to take the lead. If so, make HR your next stop. If not, wait until just after the next review cycle — changing a system like this mid-cycle is worse than having the system. Timing matters.

Then, meet with the CEO. Announce the subject. Provide the best of the best of the literature. Explain that you’ve spoken with quite a few members of the executive team, and there’s a lot of support for doing something different.

Ask to put the subject on the agenda of the next executive leadership team meeting, at which you make your points and suggest the company bring in some independent experts to assess the situation and recommend a course of action.

Yes, consultants. There is a place in the world for them (us), and this is one of them … defusing a politically explosive situation by providing an independent perspective.

Because part of winning the point is acknowledging you might be wrong about it.

One more thing: Win or lose, your political capital is now depleted. Don’t take any other strong stands until you’ve had a chance to replenish it.

* * *

Don’t worry. I’m not trying to drum up business. This isn’t one of my consulting topics. It isn’t even one of our (aka Dell Global Business Consulting’s) topics.