Quick - Who watched "Undercover Boss" after the Superbowl? Who thought it was entertaining? Who thought it was lame?
More importantly, who thought it was real? Or that meaningful improvement could be had from this approach? Could "The Situation" from the Jersey Shore have actually assisted with the intellectual honesty of this series?
Let's imagine you're in the guts of an American business that has a workforce of 40K+ that's been built primarily through acquisition. If you know anything about business, you know there are going to be plenty of things messed up operationally. You don't build a business that size via M&A and not have some dysfunction across the board.
More dysfunction than can be solved in the finale of a pop culture reality show, where the outcome has to fit into a 20 minute wrap-up. Walter Kirn of Business Week understands this:
"The sudden loss of lofty status that Undercover Boss relies on for its corny appeal is a perennially potent dramatic trick. Undercover Boss grants all our wishes, though, especially our envy-based ill wishes. In the season premiere, Larry O'Donnell, president of Waste Management (WMI) (the 46,000-strong trash hauler and recycler), is dumped into the mucky trenches where his hefty paychecks come from. Wearing a drab uniform, his millionaire's complexion concealed by a growth of graying stubble, Larry is given a series of yucky tasks meant to stir his conscience, steal his pride, and provoke huge grins of gratified resentment. He's forced to snatch recyclable bits of trash from a speeding conveyor belt. He's made—under the barking orders of a foreman whose chronic kidney ailments have hardened him toward able-bodied slackers—to fill bags with windblown scraps of litter. Finally, he's given a scrub brush and a pump and told to clean and empty a long row of portable toilets at a scabrous fairground.
Having learned many tough lessons about the ways his well-meaning company undervalues, overwhelms, and generally jerks around its "front-line" workforce (symbolized by a small group of cheerful stoics who give the company their utmost while enduring sometimes acute hard luck at home), Larry convenes his wary-looking lieutenants to issue corrective orders and share his testimony. As is sure to happen in some form on most every episode of the series (whose upcoming slate of masked corporate chieftains includes those of 7-Eleven and—can't wait—Hooters!), Larry presents himself as a changed man and implies that Waste Management must change as well. The episode ends with a Fortune 500 version of The Sermon on the Mount. Surrounded by admiring workers, including those whom he met during his journey, Larry heralds the coming of a new kingdom.
This finale (and many to come, no doubt) is emotionally irresistible and intellectually preposterous. The idea that the soul journeys of CEOs can redeem or restore American industry in an age of ruthless globalism makes for an enchanting bedtime story, but it's hard to conceive of a goofier approach to—or a more misleading account of—What's Actually Going On Out There."
The problem with "Undercover Boss"? Transformation of dysfunctional businesses doesn't occur via a 60 minute reality series or, at the end of the day, even by a CEO giving his direct reports marching orders to fix things.
True transformation takes time. If the goal was true change, you'd never go on a TV show. You know why? Because by doing "Undercover Boss", you've actually guaranteed that you'll have LESS time. As soon as the employees at your company see the show, they're measuring you from day one on the change they see.
And that's a standard of change and excellence that Waste Management can't possibly meet.
