Humour

The Oddfather (part 1)

T A Balasubramanian’s account of a CIO's therapy session to reduce psychotic conditions

After many months of disappointments, the deeply troubled CIO of Bazooka Company, Bobo Jitter, finally gets an appointment with the famous Dr Don Jong. Dr Jong, a specialist in the treatment of technology-induced psychotic conditions, is known to most stressed-out business professionals as The Oddfather, given his propensity to come up with odd fixes for virtually any bizarre condition.

Like most CIOs, Bobo has acquired a distressing illness and hopes that some de-stressing under the care of The Oddfather can help clear it up.

“So let me comprehend this deep disconnect you mention, Mr Jitter, or Bobo … I hope you don’t mind me calling you Bobo? You feel that, to your technologically focussed way of thinking, your comprehension of business at Bazooka is becoming unreal. Is that correct?” says Dr Jong, soothingly.

The good psychiatrist has settled down in front of Bobo, with a steaming cup of coffee. He nods to indicate that his client may now speak freely.

“Right, Doc,” says Bobo. “I have a logical, number-crunching, systematic mind. As business is becoming more and more mysterious and fuzzy, like maya, or illusion, I am becoming more and more nervous. Very nervous. In fact, I don’t know how to recognise business needs and match them up with current technology anymore.”

Jong’s voice is gentle and soothing, “Dear fellow, let me tell you that most of us wise professionals have no idea how to pick our way through the mess called business needs. If we did, we would all be much better at solving life’s problems and making money by the fistful. Very few people on this planet have figured out how to do both perfectly.”

“Indeed Doc,” says Bobo. “You have put your finger on it.”

“You know every profession has its weak spots—the Achilles’ Heel that they really don’t want anyone outside the business to know,” says Jong, his voice smooth and silky.

“For example, most of us medicos and shrinks are like Munnabhai. Many years of medical school training, years of apprenticeships, and a doctor’s craft is still not a science. Most doctors will not tell you that medical science is actually a black, mysterious art, not a science. There’s no cure for the common cold, let alone cancer. We know it too, but we don’t talk about it,” he says, waving his hands.

“I see,” says Bobo, wondering where this is going.

“Now this is a real problem. For the doctors, it is mostly about image. If you’re sick, you go to a doctor. You wish they could be a bit more certain, but hey, their guess is better than yours. Medicine is not intuitively obvious—that’s why we see the specialists, even if they’re not perfect, and turn out to be Munnabhai clones.”

“Well Doc, you may be right. But for doctors, their little secret doesn’t really hurt anything, except, maybe, pride. But for us CIOs, however, comprehending business needs is at the heart of the problem. And we don’t seem to know anything about business these days.”

“Since when did this happen?” says Dr Jong.

“Well, we used to know all about business needs. Back when IT was about automation, we were very good at spotting them. We watched an operation, took careful note of the inputs, outputs, and transformations, wrote them down, and voilá—business needs were magically found. And they were all solved by using the mantra called IBM. It was risk free. Nobody ever got fired for buying from IBM.”

“I see,” says the soothing, syrupy voice. “But now?”

“Things have changed, Doc. For one thing, IBM now sells so many solutions on demand that it’s hard to say what business they are in. They don’t even sell PCs any more, ever since they sold that part to that Chinese firm. And secondly, our business needs have become so complex that, according to the most recent studies, somewhere around three-fourths of the new business software developed in the world never goes into any business.”

“Is that so?” says the droning voice. “Why has it become so difficult?

“The disconnect between business and IT, like the disconnect between the mind and the body, gets more drastic with time. One of the basic disconnects is in my inability to discuss IT in terms of financial results, such as profit, profit and profit.”

“You seem to be stuck on the word profit. You said it thrice.”

“Did I? That’s because I am haunted by Fin Fina, my CFO. He eats profit, drinks profit, breathes profit. I tried reasoning with him. I told him how my IT budgets have been cut by his butchers … I mean, deputies … over the past three or four years, which delayed many of my projects that would improve the technology foundation and establish a base for future progress, if only he allowed me to set them rolling full steam.”

“Improved technology foundation and a base for progress are, if you think about it, a little hazy, are they not?”

“Well, that’s the way we CIOs talk, you know. But there was more. I explained that these projects would have created flexible architectures, streamlined information and reduced complexity. Fin Fina just looked at me with a blank face, his eyebrows shooting up, and said something disturbing.”

“Exactly what did he say?”

“It sounded like ‘arrow eye,’ so I asked him to repeat it. He said the same word thrice. Then he wrote it on the whiteboard—RoI, and told me that it stood for return on investment. I asked him what that stood for, and he smacked his palm on his forehead with a sound of disgust.”

“What did he say, if anything?”

“Well, he said that the company would be able to make profits if only it was not handicapped by being loaded with technology pundits with no business experience.”

“Go on. At least he thinks you are a technology pundit.”

“That’s hardly a consolation, Doc. He wound up by saying that we head-in-the-cloud IT guys were slow to respond, cost-insensitive, and still unable to figure out how to work with the other business teams.”

(to be continued)