To understand Meg Whitman, the formereBay chief executive who now runs Hewlett-Packard, it’s essential to
revisit something she did 26 years ago. She had just become a junior
partner at Bain Consulting, working for the brilliant but domineering
Tom Tierney. One morning Whitman walked into his office, impromptu. The
31-year-old asked her feared boss if he wanted staff feedback about his
leadership style; he nodded. With that Whitman grabbed a felt-tip marker
and sketched a giant steamroller on a nearby flip board. “This is you,
Tom,” she explained. “You’re too pushy–you’re not letting us build
consensus leadership.”
Tierney was stunned. But he eventually absorbed the message and toned
down his stridency. All of Bain benefited. “There was a real courage to
her,” recalls Tierney. “What she told me was a gift. Even though her
feedback was negative and unsolicited, it left me liking Meg more.”
Jump ahead to last year, soon after a boardroom uprising brought
Whitman to power as HP’s chief executive. She stepped into a mess: HP’s
stock had tumbled 42% in the year before she took office, while
operating margins had sunk to just 2.5%. Archrival Dell was gaining
ground in the server market, and HP seemed powerless to stop it. When
the two computer makers vied for a $350 million server order from
Microsoft’s Bing search engine team in April 2012, Dell won the job.
Familiar story: Bing’s previous four face-offs had all gone Dell’s way,
too.
Whitman refused to shrug off defeat. Within minutes she
was on the phone to Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer, demanding the same
candor she once offered Tierney. “Tell me where we came up short,”
Whitman asked. “Don’t sugarcoat it. I’d like to know so that we can do
better the next time.” Soon afterward Microsoft sent a multipage memo to
Whitman, listing nine ways that HP had fumbled its opportunity. “Even
if your bid had been price-competitive, you wouldn’t have won,” a
Microsoft lieutenant declared.
For Whitman the memo wasn’t an insult; it was a battle plan. She
convened a war team of HP’s enterprise computing chief, Dave Donatelli;
the company’s operations chief, John Hinshaw; and supply chain wizard
Tony Prophet. Their job: figure out how to make HP more competitive.
Match Dell’s ability to suggest cost-saving steps that hadn’t occurred
to Microsoft. Done. Promise to fix software bugs in two days, not four
weeks. HP was on it. By summer HP had crafted a far more
customer-friendly approach. When Bing bought a further $530 million of
servers in January, vindication arrived. This time HP, not Dell, seized
the order.
Blunt, folksy and persistent, Meg Whitman is the leader that
Hewlett-Packard desperately needs. She’s decisive without being
abrasive, persuasive without being slick. She’s a team builder who knows
that turnarounds call for repairing hundreds of small failings rather
than betting everything on a miracle cure that might be a mirage. In the
words of HP director Marc Andreessen, one of Silicon Valley’s top venture capitalists, “She’s the best CEO the company has had since its founders.”
But fixing the world’s biggest tech company–with $120 billion in
annual revenue and 330,000 employees–is a herculean task. Bloated by
more than 70 acquisitions in the past 15 years, HP isn’t just sprawling
and stalled out; it may actually be running in reverse. Revenue has been
shrinking for most of the past seven quarters. HP’s return on capital
is a pitiful 7% over the past five years. (By comparison, IBM is at 29%,
and even Dell, which has its own troubles, is at 24%.) HP is still
profitable before its enormous asset writedowns, but with its stock
trading at a feeble price/earnings multiple of six, one major investor
suggests HP can’t totally shake the fear that it might go to zero.
Too gruesome for Whitman’s tastes? Guess again. “Problems are good,
as long as you solve them quickly,” says Whitman over a Cobb salad lunch
at HP’s facilities, now chockablock with posters of Whitman’s favorite
sayings, including this aphorism: “Run to the fire; don’t hide from it.”
“Meg thrives on these sorts of challenges,” says Howard Schultz, the Starbucks CEO and a longtime friend who has known her since their time together on the eBay board.
When Whitman took command 20 months ago, following her own hiccup–a
personally expensive thumping in the 2010 election for governor of
California–she walked into a company that had squeezed out its previous
four CEOs. In 1999 genial insider Lew Platt didn’t deliver enough
sizzle, charismatic marketer Carly Fiorina couldn’t hit earnings targets
in 2005, and hard-nosed numbers guy Mark Hurd got tangled up in an expense-account scandal in 2010. Whitman’s immediate predecessor, aloof European import L?o Apotheker, lasted just 11 months. His undoing: ill-advised strategic thrusts that sent HP’s stock crashing.
Nobody on HP’s board wanted the hazards of trying to pick and train
another total outsider. Internal candidates were scarce. So in August
2011, as Apotheker’s stormy tenure neared its end, directors began to
coalesce around Whitman as their best choice. She had been a successful
Silicon Valley CEO. She had joined the HP board in January 2011 and was
well aware of the company’s challenges. And with Jerry Brown ensconced
in the governor’s mansion in Sacramento, she was available for a new
full-time job.
One problem: Whitman didn’t want the gig. She told HP directors Raj
Gupta and Andreessen that she would be busy enough with board work,
private equity and perhaps an appointed political post. “I’m done
running companies,” she told one board member. But on a private-jet
flight back to the Bay Area after an HP board meeting, other directors
began lobbying her. They invoked HP’s extraordinary heritage as Silicon
Valley’s first garage startup,
begun in 1939 by engineers Bill Hewlett and Dave Packard. They talked
about how important HP was to the California economy and as a global
symbol of innovation.
“Suddenly the conversation changed to what she might do if she took
the job,” Andreessen recalls. “I saw this twinkle in her eye. And I said
to myself: ‘I think we got her.’ ”
THE TECH SECTOR, Whitman well knows, is unusually stingy with second
chances. Fall behind and you die. The two great exceptions date back to
the 1990s: Steve Jobs’ resurrection of Apple and Lou Gerstner’s transformation of IBM.
Asked about those templates, the 56-year-old Whitman quickly rules out a
Jobs comparison. “Steve was the business genius of our generation,” she
says. “It’s hard for anyone to emulate him.” Besides, no magical iPod
or iPhone beckons in HP’s future. The Gerstner turnaround, by contrast,
“is probably more relevant,” she says.
Like the outsider who got Big Blue back on track, Whitman started her
first board meeting as CEO in October 2011 by declaring: “Rule number
one is to fix what we have.” She reversed Apotheker’s plans to sell off
the PC business at what would have likely been a fire-sale price. She
believed that business could be fixed, especially if it focused harder
on the booming market for tablets and other mobile devices. And she
stuck with Apotheker’s proposed purchase of British software company
Autonomy for $11 billion, which backfired.
To keep things simple, Whitman has arranged HP into two clusters. One
grouping aims at corporate tech customers, led by Donatelli’s
enterprise hardware shop. Its servers, storage and networking delivered
43% of overall operating profits in the most recent quarter. In theory
all this iron and silicon should be buttressed by adjoining software and
services divisions. But when it comes to software acquisitions,
Autonomy was merely the most high-profit misstep. All told, over the
past decade HP squandered nearly $19 billion to buy myriad outfits that
contribute only 7% to overall profit. The services unit, which staffs
other companies’ tech projects, is barely at break-even. It is trying to
rebuild after an $8 billion writedown last August.
HP’s other cluster sells printers, PCs, laptops and mobile devices,
chiefly to consumers worldwide. Unfortunately for Whitman, the days of
being able to rely on the lucrative printer business for outsize profits
are over. (In 2002 printing actually contributed 104% of HP’s total
operating profits because everything else was below break-even; today
that contribution is only 29%.) Corporations still buy lots of printers
and ink, but consumers’ appetites have dimmed. The likes of Google,
Facebook and Dropbox have facilitated a burgeoning era of ink-free
photo- and document-sharing.
To get both of HP’s legacy businesses moving, Whitman started by
overhauling how the company sells. Internal surveys showed that HP’s
more than 20,000 salespeople rated their own in-house sales tools at
about a 7–on a scale of 1 to 100. It took HP as long as three weeks to
work up a price quote on a complex order. Competitors could do the same
in a few days. Many customers chafed. Others just looked elsewhere. When
Whitman’s operations chief, John Hinshaw,
recommended yanking out Oracle’s aging Siebel sales software in favor
of new salesforce.com tools, she gave him the go-ahead to get the
company converted as fast as possible. HP’s price-quote queue has shrunk
75%, while those internal metrics have soared into the 70s. Sellers’
ulcers are gone, and customer rapport is on the mend.
Along with timelier terms, HP’s customers need reassurance that the
company knows what it it’s doing. At the end of the Apotheker era, “We
were quite concerned that HP wasn’t well glued together,” recalls Dana
Deasy, group chief information officer at oil giant BP.
So Whitman hit the road. In the past year she has held a staggering
305 one-on-one meetings with customers or sales-channel partners, aides
say, as well as another 42 roundtable chats with small groups. A peek at
her calendar the past 60 days shows trips to Munich, London, Brazil,
India, New York and Bentonville, Ark., the home of Wal-Mart. “She’s made
herself more available than her predecessor ever did,” says Chris Case,
president of Sequel Data Systems in Austin, Tex.
Jim Fortner, an IT executive at Procter & Gamble, says he quizzed
Whitman at length last year about HP’s personal computer strategy. He
was relieved to get consistent answers. “That’s important for us,”
Fortner says. “We buy a lot of PCs.” BP’s Deasy says that during one of
Whitman’s London visits, he griped about an HP software installation
that wasn’t happening on time. She made some calls and discovered a
fractured team that didn’t hold anyone accountable for speedy delivery.
The project, Deasy reports, is now back on track.
AS BAIN’S TOM TIERNEY LEARNED the hard way, Meg Whitman is fond of
making her points graphically. As I push her on HP’s long-term
challenge–how to get her company’s growth engines firing again–she
reflexively grabs a sheet of paper. “You’ve got to start launching new
products when your existing ones are still growing,” she says. “It is
not helpful to start a new product here,” as she points to the downward
slope of a sales curve that crested too long ago. The result, Whitman
says, “is that we’ve got acorns when we need oak trees.” She can’t make
up ground through acquisitions: The stock is too cheap, Wall Street too
hostile given the spendthrift track record, and HP is trying to reduce
last year’s $5.8 billion operating company debt to zero.
Instead, Whitman needs to heap fertilizer onto those acorns–fast.
Products with the most promise include Moonshot servers, which are
small, energy-efficient and flexible; 3PAR storage devices, which can go
up and down in size without busting budgets; and its inkjet office
printers, which match the speed and quality of laser printers at a much
lower cost. But even in these areas it’s tough to see marginal revenue
growth outpacing the sales deterioration of tired old products.
The acorn/oak tree problem is especially acute in the fast-growing
tablet market. HP should dominate, in the same way that it has become
the world’s biggest maker of PCs and laptops. But HP’s tablet strategy
for years has been a baffling mix of launches and retreats, culminating
with Apotheker’s August 2011 decision to kill the TouchPad model
introduced just seven weeks earlier.
Belatedly, HP has jumped back into the hunt. Since February new
models have been streaming into the market, most notably the Slate 7,
priced at $169–less than Amazon’s Kindle Fire HD. More machines are
about to hit the market, and tech reviewers have generally liked HP’s
efforts so far. Still, once market leaders are set, it’s very hard to
barrel past them.
HP faces a similar challenge in the server market. Its
?industry-standard machines, based on Intel chip designs, have been big
sellers since the early ’90s. But cutting-edge customers like Google and
Rackspace now prefer to build their own servers, arranging parts in the
most optimal way for their needs. The new Moonshot
server line is attracting interest from banks and energy companies,
which like its compact design and ability to run many different types of
microprocessors. But the data-crunching tech giants, which buy more
servers than anyone, may be gone for good as HP customers.
Previous CEOs hoped that big ad campaigns would make HP seem cool again. Whitman’s brand messaging, centered on the motto “Make It Matter,”
seems most likely to bolster the spirits of HP’s workforce. For wooing
the public at large she is taking a page out of Jobs’ playbook. “Look at
Apple,” says Whitman, referring to its design. “Or look at websites
like Zaarly, Path or One Kings Lane. When I got involved in the Internet
in the 1990s, websites weren’t beautiful. Now they are. Design is a
differentiating characteristic in our markets. We need to take advantage
of that.”
So HP now has an overall vice president for design, Stacy Wolff, who
oversees a fast-growing 40-person team of recruits from the likes of
BMW, Nokia and Frog Design. A new, big-screen, all-in-one PC has a nifty
hinge that holds its tilt at any viewing angle; power buttons on PCs
and printers now glow the same pure white; even perforated cooling
grilles look sleeker yet more friendly. It’s not quite Apple-elegant,
but it no longer looks like metal shop either.
WHITMAN, a Harvard M.B.A. with an economics degree from Princeton,
might not have engineering chops or her name on any patents, but unlike
HP’s previous three CEOs, she is Silicon Valley informal through and
through. When she joined eBay in 1998, the then-tiny auction company was
defined by the sweet, New Age-ish values of the company’s founder, Pierre Omidyar:
Change the world, have fun, believe that most people are good. Whitman
figured out how to combine his vision with big-league business practices
that let eBay enjoy sustainable hypergrowth. She worked marathon hours
at one stage, rebuilding eBay’s technical team until the site could
handle booming traffic without crashing. But she also embraced the
jokey, college-dorm atmosphere of an ambitious startup, filling her desk
with goofy eBay auction items and dressing up as a witch one Halloween.
So the new HP attitude starts at the front door of its low-slung Palo
Alto headquarters. She dumped the barbed wire and locked gates that
once separated executive parking spaces from the general lot. “We should
enter the building the same way everyone else does,” she says. Once
inside Whitman works from a small, sand-colored cubicle. (Her
predecessors’ somber office has been turned into a conference room.)
Whitman has a swim cap tacked to one partition, a picture of her mom on
another. A Thomas Jefferson ?biography tops the heap of books next to
her computer. Management tracts reside in the middle, treatises on cloud
computing on the bottom. On the road she often settles for a $139 room
at the Courtyard Marriott, despite the fact that she’s worth $1.9
billion. “You check in at 10 p.m., and you’re out of there at 7 the next
morning,” she shrugs. “It’s not like you’re moving in for a week.” It’s
also a painless and visible way to lead by example.
But her tough, hands-on streak, often displayed at eBay and bolstered
by two years of taking and throwing vicious political haymakers, comes
through when things go wrong. Her printing team’s weak explanation, in a
three-hour meeting, of why their business kept falling short of
financial goals quickly led to two marathon brainstorming sessions,
where she focused on hard-to-spot bad habits like excessive use of
rebates. By the time Whitman was done the printing team had a new cap on
rebates –and a new division boss to enforce it.
And Whitman has picked a fiercer fight against Autonomy’s original
management team. Last November HP took an $8.8 billion charge in
connection with that purchase, blaming the setback on “serious
accounting improprieties” in Autonomy’s books at the time of sale.
Autonomy founder Mike Lynch instantly disputed that claim, blaming HP
instead for poorly managing its new acquisition. He declined to comment
for this story.
Ongoing arguments have kept the Autonomy mess in the news, but as HP
presses authorities in the U.S. and U.K. to investigate fraud claims,
its willingness to fight sits a lot better with employees than watching
top management shrug off another blunder and hoping it fades from
memory. Almost 80% of HP employees at Glassdoor.com,
a website packed with anonymous feedback on thousands of companies, say
that they have confidence in Whitman, placing her in a tie with IBM’s
Virginia Rometty and slightly ahead of corporate stalwarts such as
Cisco’s John Chambers (76% ).
Whitman has more work to do to win over Wall Street. She warned
investors and her board early on that getting giant HP back on track
would be a five-year job, defining 2013 as a “fix and rebuild” year,
with no assurances of sustained growth until 2014. When fiscal
first-quarter results topped analysts’ scaled-down expectations, she
spoke of “a long road ahead.”
If Whitman can lift the doomsday anxiety, HP’s shares could roar
ahead. “Meg and the team are delivering everything they said they
would,” says Pat Russo, an HP director and the former CEO of
Alcatel-Lucent. “We are committed to her.” Adds fellow director Raj
Gupta, the former CEO of Rohm & Haas: “As long as she’s enjoying it
and the company is on track, the board would like to see her stay as
long as she wants.”
Whitman is beyond financial motivation. She’s playing for legacy:
“There’s quite a bit of pride in being part of something that means so
much to the Valley and to this country. It’s a nice company. Nice
people. And I think we’re going to turn this.”
If everybody followed the rules, nothing would ever change. Without change there would be no progress.
Sometimes
wonderful changes come about naturally, accidentally or completely out
of the blue. But change making doesn’t always happen by chance. You need
to have the right environment, tools, support and attitude to become a
change maker.
The benefits of change making should be instilled
at an early age. Children will be marginalised if they always follow the
rules. Kids should be taught to cause a change and deal with change,
rather than just leaving schools with loads of facts.
Over
80% of entrepreneurs started something in their teens, including yours
truly. We all need to work on making entrepreneurship universal and
broadening the opportunities for people to become entrepreneurs. If you
haven't created a revolutionary web business by 25 it is unlikely you
will - the window for nurturing change makers needs to be widened.
If
you surround yourself with creative people who are eager to provoke
positive change then you are more likely to do so too. Plus, once you've
changed your world once, you'll do it again and again. It is no
surprise that many successful inventors, entrepreneurs and creative
talents have success in many different fields.
Once a change maker, always a change maker - but only a few swim against the tide.
By Richard Branson. Founder of Virgin Group