Reduced To Tears By My First Consultancy Assignment, 27 January 1989

No-one said it was going to be easy, switching from freshly qualified Chartered Accountant to hot shot management consultant as soon as I qualified.

But there was one low point towards the end of my first consultancy assignment for Binder Hamlyn, trying to resolve a seemingly irreconcilable problem for Save The Children Fund (SCF), thus named back then, when I spread all of my hand-written notes and attempted spaghetti-looking work flow and data flow diagrams all over the living room of my little then-rented flat in Clanricarde Gardens…

…and burst into tears.

Quite a lengthy burst if I remember correctly. Four minutes, possibly, which you might choose to time by listening to the following while reading on:

Why hadn’t I listened to the recruitment agent who said that I needed a lot more work experience before I’d be ready for management consultancy?

Why didn’t I walk out of the job on day one, when I learnt that I had been recruited as part of a turf war and that the person who was now to be my boss, Michael Mainelli, had been angered by other partners recruiting me while Michael was away on a short break?

And of all the tough “sink or swim” assignments Michael might have allocated me to at the very start of this seemingly-soon-to-be-foreshortened career, why did it have to be something my heart really was in – a project that might, if successful, substantially help SCF, one of the most important charities in the world?

Of course, you realise, the story has a happy enough ending. Michael and I are still working together thirty years later (as I write in January 2019). I also met Ian Theodoreson, then a young, up-and-coming Finance Director at SCF. Ian continued to be a client on and off throughout the decades and we have remained in touch even since he gave up on major charity roles – e.g. this get together last year.

Yes, somehow the project did turn out to be a success. After the tears, I realised that I needed to focus the report on the evidence-based conclusions I had reached and the single bright idea I had come up with in the several weeks I had spent with SCF.

Little did I know back then that:

  • having even one bright idea during a 20 day assignment is a significant success if that idea is helpful/valuable enough and finds enough favour to be implemented;
  • the seemingly irreconcilable problem I encountered at SCF was an example of a perennial problem in all organisations that have potentially complex relationships with their customers, members or donors. If you can even partially solve or make progress despite that “natural fault line”, you’ve done well;
  • this single assignment would prove to be career-defining for me in so many ways. In part because it cemented my place at Binder Hamlyn working with Michael as well as other partners. In part because I still spend much of my working time with charities and membership organisations (albeit looking at wider issues). In part because many of the things I learnt on that challenging assignment stood me in good stead for later challenges in the subsequent decades.

Ogblog is primarily a “life” retroblog, not a “work” one, so this piece is a rarity – perhaps even a one-off – being more work than life. But this period was such a major change for me, not least in shifting my work-life balance substantially towards work for several decades, that I feel bound to write it up. I also spotted some intriguing notes on the diary pages for those first few weeks of January 1989.

Compared with late 1988, this is almost all work, not much life.
That meeting with Ian Theodoreson on 10 January will have been my first formal meeting with Ian and possibly even the first time I met him at all, although we might have had a “canteen chat” in Mary Datchelor House (the SCF offices back then) before we met formally. I was making a point of being visible in the canteen for informal chats throughout the project; a technique I had leaned from my Student Union sabbatical experience just a few years earlier. I also note that I had spelt Ian’s surname incorrectly back in 1989, a mistake I was to repeat (differently) on the acknowledgements page of the hard cover edition of Price of Fish. Sorry, again, Ian.
Again, lots of work, not all that much life there. A second meeting with Ian, now mis-spelling his name in the same way as The Price of Fish error – at least some sort of consistency set in. Hannah and Peter on the Thursday evening are my neighbours from downstairs. Peter is still downstairs – Hannah (Peter’s mum) returned to Germany some years ago and is spending her dotage there. I cannot remember the evening of 22 January 1989 with Caroline – I’ll guess that I cooked Caroline dinner at Clanricarde given the time and lack of other information in the diary. Caroline has reciprocated – most recently at the time of writing a week or so ago!
The amusing entry on this page is the morning of 25 January. Someone suggested that I visit Barnardo’s by way of comparison with SCF. I’m not sure who provided the above assistance for my journey, but it reads:

Barkingside St. [Station] Church – beside it c60s US “Prison”

Anyone who has visited the Barnardo’s campus would recognise that “1960s US Prison” description and it should make them smile. It would be ironic if it had been Ian Theodoreson who provided that helpful description for my journey, as he subsequently spent many years as Director of Corporate Services there and I did several assignments at that Barnardo’s campus, in the late 1990s and early years of this century.

Please also note “G Jenny” in small writing for 26th evening and then again on the Saturday afternoon. I know that I deferred my visit to Grandma Jenny 26th because I had a report deadline looming…

…in fact the “evening of tears” might have been 26th not 27th…

…but I also know that the report deadline was really for the Monday morning, when I needed to go into the office with the report ready for review. So I also remember postponing Grandma Jenny again on the Saturday, while dinner with Jilly I think went ahead after I finished my draft report on the Saturday.

I put Grandma Jenny back into the book for the following Tuesday and I’m sure I will have gone that evening. She forgave me for the multiple rescheduling I’m sure, especially when she learnt that I was doing work for a charity in which she believed strongly. I also remember her imparting the following worldly advice to me several times during that era:

all work and no joy makes Jack a dull boy.

Well of course there was joy as well as work during those “hard yards” weeks and months at the start of my consultancy career. But I don’t suppose there was much joy inside my tears on that evening, when I thought it was all going horribly wrong.

Maybe I even cried for the six-and-a-half minutes it takes to listen to this Dowland-ish Stevie Wonder song.

Pentecost by Stewart Parker, Lyric Studio, 25 January 1989

An after work visit to the theatre with Bobbie on a Wednesday evening. The Lyric Studio did really high quality fringe stuff back then. This cast included Adrian Dunbar, Dearbhla Molloy and Michelle Fairley would you believe?

This production was actually the Tricycle Theatre (or do I now have to say “Kiln” even when discussing productions gone by?) in exile at the Lyric Studio. Hence Nicholas Kent directing.

Stewart Parker had died recently, which I suppose led quite rapidly to this production of his last play in London. I found this interesting essay about him on Jstor.

I don’t remember all that much about this play/production, other than it being pretty impressive for a small studio production and being very Northern Irish in tone and subject matter. The acting and directing was top notch.

Will Bobbie remember more about it? I’ll ask.

Below is Michael Billington’s touching review:

Billington on Parker PentecostBillington on Parker Pentecost Wed, Jan 11, 1989 – 46 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

Below is Michael Ratcliffe’s Observer review:

Ratcliffe on PentecostRatcliffe on Pentecost Sun, Jan 15, 1989 – 46 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

Smelling A Rat by Mike Leigh, Hampstead Theatre, Then Jilly’s Party, 14 January 1989

This was at the old Hampstead Theatre – the portacabin-like place quite near the new Hampstead (i.e. also Swiss Cottage). The place had a proud tradition by 1989, not least in the matter of Mike Leigh plays.

What a fine cast – as always with Mike Leigh who seems to be a magnet for talent – including Timothy Spall, Saskia Reeves and Brid Brennan.

I do remember really liking this play/production. It was, in some ways, the sort of cheesy farce I tend not to like. But being Mike Leigh, it was sort-of an antidote to such farces, much as Noises Off by Michael Frayn is sort-of farce, sort-of antidote.

Here is the Theatricalia link for this play/production.

Dramaonlinelibrary.com has a synopsis of the play – click here.

Below is Kate Kellaway’s Observer review:

Kellaway on SmellingKellaway on Smelling Sun, Dec 11, 1988 – 41 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

Below is Michael Billington’s Guardian Review:

Billington on SmellingBillington on Smelling Tue, Dec 13, 1988 – 35 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

I went to see this one with Bobbie – I wonder whether or not she remembers much about it…

…or whether Bobbie remembers much about Jilly’s party at the latter’s Nether Street residence?

I think it was at this particular Jilly party that I had a long conversation with one of Jilly’s scientist friends about nuclear fusion technologies, which we reprised some 20-25 years later at a subsequent Jilly gathering.

A full and enjoyable evening.

Dinner With John White, 11 January 1989

John’s a good fellow. John will be able to read my hieroglyphics.

If John is unable to read my hieroglyphics, he will nevertheless remember the occasion vividly and remind me where we went that evening and what we did/ate.

Or if by some fluke John cannot remember exactly what we did a mere 29 years ago, I’m sure his diary will reveal more secrets about the evening than mine.

We met at 6:30 in the evening. I can say that with authority.

I didn’t stumble across this page while looking for something else and think “wtf does that say”…I really did, very specifically want to write up that particular evening…honest guv.

The preceding week, the only item of note was my visit to mum and dad’s place for dinner on the Saturday. My surge of social activity between completing my accountancy finals and settling down at Binders replaced by a more austere “work hard” lifestyle. Not least because I didn’t have that much spare dosh at first, with most of my pay going on rent and driving lessons to pay for. Must have done something for new years eve I’d have thought, but it’s not recorded, so lost in the mists of time.