Bohica: What You Managers Always Do to Us Workers

By Rob Probst

70% of change programs fail to achieve their goals. Furthermore, according to numerous business research articles, most management-inspired improvement and cost-saving initiatives waste time and money and de-motivate employees.
MATT POLASKI and his band of unsung maintenance engineering heroes are nearly burn-out, trapped in the ‘circle of despair’ at the Mornington Dairy Plant. Instead of continuing to patch one breakdown after another, they propose a reliability improvement project to improve plant performance and their mental well-being.
Matt realizes his marriage may even survive if they are successful.
JIM CHAMPION, Mornington’s Site Manager, also wants to improve performance, but he can’t wait as long as Matt’s plan requires. Jim’s approach leads to a temporary improvement followed by a major catastrophe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: May 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798765240908

Rob Probst

Rob Probst has forty years of industrial manufacturing experience, working in engineering and operations management roles as well as reliability engineering, consulting and training. A mechanical engineering graduate from UC Berkeley, he has authored articles about operational behavior, maintenance, and engineering practices. Rob and his colleagues at Bay Milk Products initiated a reliability improvement program that achieved world-class accreditation in 2009, and he subsequently co-created a software program that predicts the return on investment for best-practice maintenance reliability program implementation. He recently completed a Master’ of Business Studies degree at Massey University and is a certified maintenance and reliability professional. He lives at Ohope Beach in New Zealand, where he works as a consultant and pursues study and writing projects related to organizational behavior.

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ENDORSEMENTS

I really enjoyed reading the book. The book should be read by any manager in plants with poorly performing throughput and high costs before they start any improvement initiative. That would help them better understand what the front-line people in a plant goes through and how they suffer under poor, or lacking leadership.

Christer Idhammar – Founder of IDCON INC

Rob tells a great story with real life wisdom. He reminds us that people are our biggest asset and poor leadership can destroy a culture very quickly

Neil Betteridge, Global Dairy Operations Executive

Every CEO should read this book.

Don Truesdell – Senior Reliability Consultant

at 151 plants in 39 countries

BOHICA

WHAT YOU MANAGERS ALWAYS DO TO US WORKERS

ROB PROBST

Copyright © 2023 Rob Probst.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by

any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author

except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com

844-682-1282

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 979-8-7652-4089-2 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-7652-4091-5 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-7652-4090-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023906475

Balboa Press rev. date:  05/26/2023

CONTENTS

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Resources

About The Author

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The mechanical engineers presented me with the toy bird, shown on the cover, as my Christmas present four months after my appointment as engineering manager at Bay Milk Products. An engineering union delegate, Chris, explained, This kiwi bird represents us workers, and the carriage bolt is what you managers always do to us. I was momentarily left speechless, before responding, I look forward to removing this bolt together at next year’s Christmas celebration. I was unsure how we would transform our adversarial relationship.

Twelve months later, we unscrewed the bolt and toasted our success. Bay Milk’s engineering union members and management had jointly authored a collective employment agreement and reliability improvement plan that incentivized self-management, job-sharing, and breakdown reduction. The new agreement would result in reduced overtime, guaranteed income, improved productivity, and work-life balance. Some years later, Bay Milk Products was recognized for achievement of world-class reliability performance.

This story was intended to be an upbeat tale of our successful organizational transformation, but as writing progressed, I reminded myself that just two percent of organization initiatives are successful, while an additional ten percent get close to best practice, according to reliability experts. The majority of organizations fail as a result of poor leadership. I felt compelled to recount a version of the most likely outcome, what happens when staff and mid-level managers attempt to improve their working conditions and performance under the direction of an unrealistic leader.

A year after publishing the first edition of BOHICA, I led a reliability improvement initiative at a New Zealand forest products company as the newly-appointed engineering manager. I loaned a copy of BOHICA to one of my direct reports, and a month later, he returned the book and enquired, Rob, are you psychic? I was embroiled in a nearly identical, real-life portrayal of BOHICA’s plot. I decided not to bend over to toxic corporate management and resigned three months later. I resolved to rewrite BOHICA and promote it as a cautionary tale.

This story is dedicated to fellow workmates, through the years of my career, with whom I have shared tribulation and success in pursuit of a more ideal working environment. Sociopathic leaders frequently blocked our path, and we consoled ourselves, rationalizing, At least we’re not in a battlefield situation. We’d be dead.

I thankfully acknowledge the work of several authors and mentors. Their research and contributions to reliability practice and organizational behavior theory have influenced my career and the creation of this story: Christer Idhammar, Terry Wireman, Robert Sutton, Jeffrey Pfeffer, Jim Collins, and Frederick Herzberg.

All the Best.

Rob

CHAPTER 1

Matt jumped at the sound of the workshop door slamming against the wall as though it had swung open hard and fast enough for the handle to break the doorstop and penetrate the gypsum wallboard. He turned from the workbench to see Jim Champion, the Site manager, striding into the center of the workshop. There was fire in his eyes, and Matt could feel his stomach muscles tighten. It was Friday, and he’d hoped they might have made it through the week without any management dust-ups. But, unfortunately, he knew what to expect next.

Trevor, get your ass down here!!! Jim yelled as he glanced up the stairway toward the office window overlooking the mechanical engineering workshop.

The Venetian blinds opened slightly.

Matt could see Trevor’s eyes peeking through the gap. He wondered why Trevor bothered. He knew what was in store.

Jim looked back at Matt and commanded, Matt! Get the rest of the engineers in here now!

Matt headed into the smoko room where the electricians and mechanical engineers were gathered for morning break. He made a silent wrist gesture to the guys at the table to follow him back into the workshop. They had heard the commotion; some looked afraid, while others were resigned to another tyrannical outpouring.

Trevor stumbled down the stairs, grasping for the handrail.

At one of the workbenches in the center of the room, Jim was tapping a two-foot-long piece of 50mm diameter, stainless-steel tubing on the edge of the metal workbench. He stopped tapping the tubing. The workshop was silent. He raised the pipe, slammed it furiously into the top of the table, and then raked the parts off the tabletop and onto the floor. The crashing sound of the stainless-steel tubing on the tabletop was painful. The men stood motionless, frozen as the energy drained out of their legs.

Trevor’s knees were visibly shaking when Matt looked at him. He wondered if Trevor was about to wet his pants.

This workshop is a pigsty! Jim shouted. He looked up to see if there was any disagreement in the eyes of the trade staff. All of them were looking at the floor. No wonder my one hundred fifty-million-dollar powder drier is broken down again! You guys have no understanding of discipline, work standards, or ownership!

Matt looked up. For a split second, he was sure he recognized the hint of a smile on Jim’s lips. He shuddered, realizing Jim was enjoying his own tirade.

The CEO didn’t ask the stockholders, the farmers, to shell out their hard-earned profits so it could sit around and look like a shiny Christmas ornament! And I didn’t promise Colin Gray I would keep the plant running hard enough to surpass its design specs because I wanted to look stupid! He paused for effect. You guys are making me look bad. You are making the site and everyone who works here look bad because you can’t keep the drier running longer than three days without a breakdown! Jim paused again, his eyes moving from one man to the next, finishing with Trevor. We are supposed to be making powder yesterday, today, tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, but my operators tell me the cyclones are blocking. You guys can’t get the rotary valves fixed to stop the blockages. Trevor?!

Trevor jerked out of a frozen stupor. Drifting, trying to escape, mentally, Matt surmised.

Now he had been caught off guard. Perhaps he hadn’t heard what Jim had said. Things could get worse.

Trevor!!!? I’m talking to you!

Uh……er…….Jim. I’m so, so sorry, Trevor replied.

Trevor, you are sorry! Jim paused again, letting the words sink in. You are the sorriest excuse for a maintenance manager, for an engineer, for a human I have ever seen! Jim eyed Trevor’s reaction, cruelly.

But, Jim. It’s not just our fault. The operators aren’t following their SOP’s. They’re partly to blame for the blockages. Fifty percent of the downtime is caused by operator faults. Some of them aren’t even trained.

Matt was surprised to hear Trevor challenge Jim. It was a pitiful attempt.

I don’t bloody give a rat’s ass, Trevor!

Matt couldn’t hold back any longer. He’s right, Jim. And not only that, half of our breakdowns are a result of the crappy startup commissioning by the contract engineers and the substitution of sub-standard parts, like the rotary valves.

Jim turned quickly to Matt. His fingers tightened on the stainless tube.

Matt’s right, Jim. I told you that too.

Jim turned back to Trevor. I want the drier back online in an hour, or I’m going to seriously start thinking about contracting out maintenance! Jim looked around at all of them, menacing, assuring himself the staff had received the impact of his threat. Only Matt looked him back in the eye. Matt. I want to see you and Trevor in my office in an hour. I want a report on the actions you are taking to get back online and stay online.

Trevor piped in, Okay Jim. We’ll get onto it. I’m sorry you had to come over here. We’ll do whatever it takes to get the drier back up.

Trevor. I don’t want you to do whatever! You’re already over budget. Just do what’s necessary and do it fast. Jim didn’t wait for a response as he tossed the tubing on the metal bench top and spun toward the door. He was out of the shop with a few quick strides, heading toward the administration block.

Nobody moved. Jim’s smashing of metal, his tirade, his threat, the abuse of Trevor, had left them drained. They stood in silence for a few seconds until Moke piped in with sarcastic cheerfulness.

"Is this what you call ….uh….Deja Vu, or something?

Some of the tradesmen giggled as they began shuffling back to the smoko room.

Matt reflected on the tirade. Like so many other similar incidents, the Maintenance, or Site Services Department, as they were designated on the organization chart, was again the scapegoat, the dumping ground, not only for Jim Champion but for the plant managers and anyone else looking for an excuse for their reduced performance. He remembered another recent outburst when Jim had said they were just a necessary evil because people were required to fix the kit when it broke down. If it never broke down, they would be the first to go.

Once in a while, when one of them got a piece of the critical plant up and running following a breakdown, they would get a pat on the back from the supervisor or plant manager.

They were heroes for five or ten minutes. That was how things had always been around the plant: one minute, a hero, the next minute, the biggest assholes on the site. The hero feeling was measured in minutes, and the asshole feeling was measured in weeks. Matt turned to look at Trevor and gauge his reaction.

Okay. Matt! I want you to get the boys and get those rotary valves replaced now. Get Peter to send two control techs over to check out if there are any program faults. The operators may have locked up the program again. Tell Chris to make sure the instruments are set up correctly on the cyclones.

Trevor! This is all knee-jerk stuff! We don’t even know why the drier is down this time, Matt snapped.

Matt! Don’t say that! I know what’s wrong. It’s always the same thing!

No. It’s not. And if we go over there and run around like guys at a house on fire we’ll look even worse if the drier doesn’t get back online.

Yeah, Trevor. I don’t want those production jerks mouthing off at us as well, Crazy Andy piped in. He was backing Matt, but he wasn’t sure what Matt was proposing.

We should be doing a root cause analysis on these cyclone blocks. When are we going to use the training we got last year?! Matt was insistent.

We don’t have time right now. We’ve got to get into action.

Matt felt like picking the pipe up and hitting Trevor with it. Seeing him in panic mode was so bloody frustrating.

Half the guys left the shop while Trevor and Matt were arguing. They had their own ideas about what to check for. Matt was the Leading Hand, but Trevor had overridden him once again.

Matt took after them, hoping to direct them to places where he thought they’d have a better chance of solving the problem.

He turned to Trevor as he left. Trev, you go up to Jim’s office on your own. I don’t want him to think I had anything to do with the solution discussion because I didn’t. Trevor’s expression was almost blank, totally distracted. Onto the next knee-jerk response plan, Matt guessed.

Okay, Matt. I can handle Jim.

Bloody hell, Matt thought to himself. He’s right off his nut. He walked out of the shop and into the mid-morning heat.

Matt glanced at the surroundings as he crossed the milk reception area toward the powder plant entrance. It was a pretty setting, a thirty-acre powder and cream plant site set amid farmland, five miles outside Mornington. The dairy site processed the milk from the surrounding three thousand farms on a good day, when it wasn’t broken down. It was one of the largest sites in the Dairy Cooperative, and it had grown steadily over the past fifty years as dairy farming became more lucrative. The new milk powder drier Jim was ranting about was the third to be built on the site, and the financial returns to the farmers had increased.

Most of the farmers had family members working at the processing site, which meant you had to watch what you said or did since any disparaging remarks or more than frugal spending would get back to a farmer, who would then pass his complaint up to the local board member or the CEO and back it would come, to you. Around four hundred fifty people were employed, mostly as production operators or tanker drivers, who worked shifts that covered around-the-clock, seven-day-a-week production. The manufacturing operation turned out nearly a billion dollars of product every year, and each time the plant went down, milk had to be shipped somewhere else for processing, and the farmers lost profit.

It was strange. The farmers seemed happy to tolerate the breakdowns. Matt figured it must have something to do with how they ran their farms. Even though they had the money to spend on preventive maintenance, the bulk of the work on their farm equipment happened only when the equipment broke down. He knew from experience since he had worked as a mechanical engineer on farms for a couple of years, servicing equipment. He got fed up with the farmer’s attitudes and applied for a job at the plant. The farmers always thought his repair work cost too much and wanted to argue about a price reduction. He couldn’t convince them they could save half their repair expense with a simple preventive maintenance program. They weren’t in the habit of doing preventive maintenance and since they had established the manufacturing plants, they weren’t much in the habit of demanding preventive maintenance work at their plants, either. The cheapest, fastest fix possible was acceptable.

The rest of the people on the site worked in operations and the laboratory, or in the administration building at the entrance to the main powder plant. They were a mix of folks, including university graduates doing research and technical work, accountants who always wanted to chop more out of the maintenance budget, and administration staff. The production season lasted ten months. Then, during the winter, when rainfall was plentiful, and temperatures dropped, the farmers dried off their cows.

The Mornington site was kept in a pretty tidy state; no potholes in the pavement like some of the other sites in the cooperative. Jim Champion splurged on landscaping, with a small bonsai garden near the administration entrance to impress Japanese customers. The buildings were repainted once every two years.

Matt pushed through the entrance to the main powder plant. He realized he no longer appreciated or even noticed the cosmetic appearance of the plant and surroundings. The reactive, breakdown, panic-stricken culture had dimmed its natural beauty beyond recognition.

A few hours later, Matt looked up as he walked up the steps to ground level from the Powder plant entrance. He spotted Jim at the entrance of the administration building. Trevor was standing behind him. Matt hesitated. It was nearly home time. He and ‘the boys’ had gotten the drier back online an hour earlier. Jim might be lining him up for another thrashing because they had taken longer than an hour to unblock the cyclones. Fortunately, the operators hadn’t blocked the plant with wet milk powder. It would have taken them five more hours to get the abseilers into the plant to dig out the powder.

C’mon Matt! Get your butt over here. You’ll like this, Jim yelled, waving him to approach.

Matt couldn’t believe Jim was smiling at him. He was amazed at how quickly Jim could shift moods. He reluctantly headed toward them.

Matt. I want to send you and Trevor on a training course. Jim explained as Matt approached.

Matt and Trevor followed Jim as he turned and walked into the foyer.

Matt looked at Trevor in disbelief, wondering if Trevor had a clue. Trevor didn’t respond.

I’ve already explained this to Trevor, Jim said as he turned to face them both.

Matt cringed. What?

Yeah, Matt. It sounds like a good idea, Trevor piped in.

Jim handed Matt an advertisement brochure. It had glossy photos with large bold print and a list of industry experts speaking about topics that were either disinteresting or over the top from his point of view. However, Matt could see it was a brochure for a maintenance training program.

Matt. Catch the title?! KISS or KICKASS; Transformation to Maintenance Best Practices! Jim announced excitedly. This is a course on how to motivate your crew. You and Trevor, so you can learn how to kick some ass, get your crew off its duff, and save us millions.

You’re kidding? Matt replied.

No, I’m not. Jim explained, This is coming straight from North America. A Canadian expert from a heavy equipment manufacturing environment is presenting it, in New Haven.

Matt glanced at the title and the brochure. KICKASS, he thought to himself. So typical. Jim was trying to get them to adopt his management style.

It’s not just about kicking ass; it’s about maintenance best practice concepts and how to kick asses into doing it.

Matt held his tongue. It wasn’t his perception of the course title.

I want you two guys at this conference on Monday. You got a stay of execution for getting the drier back up today. This conference may answer my frustrations and be an opportunity for you both. Jim peered over his reading glasses into their eyes. I’ve already asked Kay to book your rooms and another in case you want to take somebody else from maintenance. She’s arranged a rental car and your conference fees too. So, pack your bags!

Great! Jim. I’m looking forward to it already. Trevor was beaming.

Matt thought he could see some dried saliva at the corner of Trevor’s mouth. God, he could be disgusting.

Trevor suggested, Matt, how about we get Dave to come along too? It would be good to have him on board.

Yeah, that’s fine, Trev. Did you talk to him yet? Matt turned to leave. He was growing weary of the conversation, and it was past quitting time. Anything else?

Yeah, Jim smirked, How about a thank you, Jim?

Matt thought for a second about just ignoring him. Thanks. I hope it’s better than most conferences. They’re usually only worth attending for the free lunch.

Jim patted him on the back and turned toward his office. Come and tell me about it as soon as you get back.

See. He’s not such a bad guy, Trevor said as he turned to head back to the maintenance shop with Matt. I’ll pick up the car and come by for you and Dave around 6:30 am Monday. Okay?

Yeah, fine. I’m going to check on the cooling water pump. Matt intentionally turned and took the long way back to the shop, around the cooling tower, so he didn’t have to walk with Trevor.

As he walked, Matt took stock of his situation and what might or might not have been. He had just turned thirty-three. As a teenager, he had dreamt of cycling as a professional and doing the Tour de France. As a junior cyclist he placed well in National Secondary events, but financial considerations prevented him from following his dream. Instead, he needed to find employment. Nevertheless, he continued cycling to maintain his fitness, cycling the forty kilometers to work and racing with the local club when possible.

He wasn’t the biggest of the men in the workshop at six feet in height, but his strength and athletic ability made him an equal to the others. He knew his workmates trusted him to work safely and to carry more than the average load when things got physically demanding. He also knew that he was one of the tradesmen his colleagues came to for help with problem solving and motivation.

He was pleased