From the IS Survival Mailbag …

My recent column on the Year 2000 raised both the ire and scholarship of the IS Survivalist community.

Quite a few readers took me to task for proposing that both the “decadist” camp (the millennium ends on the decade boundary … December 31, 1999) and the “centurist” camp (December 31, 2000) have legitimate claims.

A few disagreed with my fundamental premise, insisting 1990 was the last year of the 1980s. To them I respond, “thlppp!” Never let it be said I stray from the high road.

Others explained that decades don’t matter — since there was no Year 0, 2,000 years won’t have passed until midnight, December 31, 2000. Jim Carls wrote to explain why they’re wrong:

“If you look it up in your history book, do the math and assume that historical accuracy is of some importance in defining the start of the Third Millennium Anno Domini, the latest point at which the millennium could start was in 1997 (Herod the Great died in 4 BC). And, according to Stephen Jay Gould (interviewed last week on PBS), the latest possible date was October 23rd. Let’s all bring that up in the next planning meeting!”

I say we start celebrating December 31, 1999 and don’t stop until January 1, 2001. Which means the real Year 2000 crisis will be a severe grape shortage. Vineyards … start planting!

Another group of correspondents took issue with the idea that the two-digit year was a feature, rather than a bug, and that it made good business sense at the time. Quite a few e-mails pointed out that a four-byte integer field could have stored 179 years worth of dates avoiding the problem for some time to come. Others questioned how much money programmers saved by not using a four-position year.

The first group would be right if storage were the only issue. Backtrack 25 years, though, and figure out how many iterations of Moore’s Law we have to undo. Computers had, I’d guess, about 1% of today’s processing power. The computation time needed to convert dates to and from integer format would have greatly extended batch processing times, which would have been very expensive. Tim Oxler invites everyone to visit a Web page he put up to discuss this in more detail: http://www.i1.net/~troxler/html/space.html.

The second group raises an interesting question. Leon Kappelman & Phil Scott answer it at http://comlinks.com/mag/accr.htm. Short version: The savings have been huge, far in excess of even the largest Year 2000 cost estimates.

And then there’s the other point — my contention that the world will muddle through as usual, neither blowing up nor sailing through unscathed. Robert Nee wrote to formulate this more precisely. He points out that the basic laws of supply and demand in a market-based economy predict that for every company that goes bankrupt due to Year 2000 problems there will be others that pick up the slack, both in terms of supplying goods and services, and in terms of employment.

This is a wonderful insight. Yes, lots of companies will fail. Yes, lawyers will file trillions of dollars worth of lawsuits, bayoneting the wounded to make sure as few companies recover as possible. (To the gathering flock of vultures now soliciting Year 2000 whistleblowers I’d like to make a simple comment. I’d like to, but I’m not sure libel laws permit it.)

In the end, though, demand will drive supply and so long as whole industries don’t fail, suppliers that are Year 2000 compliant will buy the bloody remains of those that aren’t, providing enough supply to satisfy demand and enough employment to keep everyone working as they do so.

Which, in turn, hearkens back to another point made frequently here: Many of the best investments in IT are those focused on your company’s survival, whether they’ll deliver measurable returns or not.

“Dilbert” has been verbed.

We’re starting to hear executives say, “Let’s not Dilbert this,” when debating some question of corporate policy or direction.

Progress is where you find it, I guess.

When Scott Adams invented Dilbert he worked at Pacific Bell. Pacific Bell, like most regulated monopolies, has little incentive to improve efficiency. When a utility makes a rate case to a public utilities commission (PUC), it demonstrates the cost of providing a service. Once the cost has been demonstrated, the price is almost a given. Since PUCs understand margins, they tend to allow pricing that delivers an acceptable margin percentage.

Which means regulated monopolies have an incentive to increase costs, since whatever the margin, higher costs will lead to more profits rather than less.

Regulated monopolies don’t generally find themselves squeezed for funds. You might think this would lead to higher salaries, or more pleasant working conditions, or the ability to “do things right” instead of having to make hard choices.

You’d be wrong.

Over-funded organizations act more like ecosystems than organisms. You’ve heard the phrase “it’s a jungle out there”? A jungle is an ecosystem.

An ecosystem is a stable organization composed of independent organisms, each focused on its own purposes. These individual organisms see to it that free resources find a use (that is, there are no unfilled niches). And as an ecosystem become more stable over time, species diversity increases and the flow of nutrients and energy within it becomes increasingly complex.

A business that acts as an ecosystem is unhealthy, and the symptoms are easy to spot. The company as a whole has no focus. Competitive urges are focused internally — department heads vie with each other for projects or funding. Departmental funding comes from sources within the ecosystem, and internal consumers define the value of most corporate processes — that is, internal economics, often built around a system of charge-backs, drive most activity.

Meanwhile, employees say, “I’m your customer” and “You’re my customer” to each other and mean it.

In companies like this, influence and power come from getting along — from political dexterity. Many employees will, in fact, find it literally impossible to connect their work to the creation of customer value.

And of course, the cost of sales is viewed as an overhead expense … hence the popular financial statistic “SG&A” — Sales, General, and Administrative expense. Sales and Marketing are largely disconnected from the purpose of the business, which is generating shareholder value, not increasing marketshare.

Compare all of this to the most successful business in the world, Microsoft. What complaints do you hear about Microsoft? Most boil down to it engaging in predatory business practices.

A predator is an organism. It has its own purposes, which it achieves through organized, focused activity. It understands that if it doesn’t succeed in achieving its goals, it won’t eat.

Microsoft creates lots of shareholder value but I’d bet you’d have a hard time finding a Microsoft employee who worries about it. Microsoft exists to dominate markets — to be a successful predator, taking food away from its competitors.

If you work in a company that acts as an ecosystem you have some hard choices to make. Don’t even try to change the company. You’ll just alienate the rest of the executive team. Only the CEO has any chance at all to change a company like this, and even for a CEO the road to recovery is a hard one.

You can, however, keep your own house in order. Cultivate executives who deal with external customers. Constantly ask how proposed projects will lead to increased competitiveness or customer value. Focus IS on the company’s purpose as best you can.

Or, you can leave to work for a predator.