When you keep kicking the “risk can” down the road, you may come to regret the consequences.
The upcoming anniversary of an historic American tragedy offers a timeless lesson on how unrealistic goals, collateral pressures and leadership overconfidence can combine to fatally corrupt major decision-making processes.
On January 27, 1967, America’s first Apollo spacecraft experienced a launchpad fire in the midst of a final pre-liftoff test, killing all three astronauts aboard. The horrific circumstances shocked the nation, threatened President Kennedy’s lunar landing goal and destroyed the unequivocal confidence in safety and success which NASA and the manned space program had long enjoyed.
At the time, the Apollo 1 capsule was regarded as “the most complicated machine in human history.” And throughout its design, manufacturing and testing, the capsule was plagued with problems. These included faulty radios, loose wires, flammable materials, an inwardly opening hatch, and the risks of flying in a 100% oxygen environment. These were problems that were not getting fixed.
There was wide recognition within NASA that something was off; that the vehicle designed to take men to the moon fell far short of the quality standards set by the prior Mercury and Gemini programs. But no one was speaking up. The historical success of the program created a false sense of security within project leadership; an unrealistic confidence that by the launch date, everything would come together-because it always had before. “[We] thought nothing could go wrong.”
According to legendary Flight Director Gene Kranz:
[W]hatever it was, we should have caught it. We were too gung ho about the schedule and we locked out all of the problems we saw each day in our work. Every element of the program was in trouble and so were we. Not one of us stood up and said, “Dammit, stop!”…We are the cause! We were not ready! We did not do our job. We were rolling the dice, hoping that things would come together by launch day, when in our hearts we knew it would take a miracle. We were pushing the schedule and betting that the Cape would slip before we did.
And the process continued, with the complicity of silence. Until a spark during a countdown simulation, likely caused by a frayed wire, turned the capsule’s interior into an inferno, killing its trapped occupants within seconds. It was a tragedy made more painful because it didn’t have to happen; because it was the fault of a clearly flawed decision making process; because it was totally foreseeable.
As Mr. Kranz summarized, “We had the opportunity to call it off, to say this isn’t right. Let’s shut it down.” The astronauts, the Apollo program and ultimately the country were betrayed by an organizational culture skewed by carelessness, laxity and neglect. Known problems just weren’t getting fixed. Overconfidence and a lack of risk urgency prevailed.
These are the same cultural flaws that exist to this day in many corporate decision-making processes. It’s the skewed momentum that moves a project, an initiative, a proposal through the hierarchy with such force that the voices of the objectors - those who know better, the ones with the opportunity to wave the red flag - are chilled into silence. They know there’s a problem but they hope others, down the line, will call it out.
That skewed momentum can come from multiple sources, such as a board initiative, the CEO’s pet project, or an individual or group plan of action. In the background there is a culture that penalizes caution, questioning and skepticism. So whatever the source, there’s usually a step that’s been skipped; a deadline that’s looming; an approval that was missed; a key concept misunderstood; a critical voice that’s been marginalized. And the results can carry much weight for the company and its reputation.
There’s always a place for speed, boldness, shortcuts and informed risk taking in any decision-making process. Indeed, that’s how many of the best initiatives move forward. But they move best in a culture that makes employees feel comfortable in raising what they believe to be significant issues to key decision-makers. One that relies on the courage of its leaders to say, “Dammit, stop” when necessary.
The great risk management lesson of the Apollo 1 tragedy is that in any development and decision-making process, it is never too late to say, “Stop-we’re not ready.” It makes no difference whether it relates to the development of a product or a service; whether it’s an entirely new idea or a refinement of a prior one; whether the company’s a start-up, or an iconic enterprise; or whether you’re sending astronauts to the moon. When you keep kicking the “risk can” down the road, you’re bound to marginalize its importance. Because at the end of the road, there’s usually no time left to make corrections.
Too conservative a notion? Too cautious a culture? Too restrictive a mindset? There’s monument at Cape Canaveral’s Launch Complex 34 that begs to differ.
I wish to acknowledge (i) “Rocket Men: The Epic Story of the First Men on the Moon” by Craig Nelson (Penguin, 2009); and (ii) “The Kranz Dictum” reprinted in a December 13, 2013 post at michaeldiamond.com, as resources in the preparation of this post.
