Once again my personal world and professional worlds have overlapped in a very meaningful way. This time in the form of a science fiction television series for children.
I'm happy my kids would rather watch The Sarah Jane Adventures than Hannah Montana for many reasons, but this is not the blog for me to list all of them. Let me instead focus on one particular episode, "The Lost Boy, Part II", when the show's computer, Mr. Smith, bent on destroying the Earth is given a new directive, and is restarted.
We all cling to our projects, our directives, especially if they are the bulk of what defines our position, or a whole department's identity. But what if that directive, like Mr. Smith's, was outdated, was in the way of progress, or harmful? Would you continue on course or would you question it?
There's a lot of force behind a large project, time, people, money, training. How can one person stop that kind of momentum? So one person doesn't speak up. Not one person. Even if everyone thinks the same thing.
I dedicate this post to the rare and wonderful event when the stars align we are brave enough to change course. This post is in honor of terminated projects everywhere! (If you've been on one and put your life into it, you may feel grief at its passing, but you know it's for the best.)
Great point. There are sayings, old cliches, that cover this. "Don't throw good money after bad" "Cut your losses."
One of the worst things (for an organization) is to get so personally wrapped up in any given project that perspective is lost. I wonder how much money would be saved, time found, and painful I-told-you-sos averted if people would stop attaching their personal worth to projects that don't have a snowball's chance in hell. There is nothing wrong with admitting a mistake, or even just admit circumstances have changed. Anything to get out of a losing proposition.