What We See, Isn't Always What's There

Here’s a quick test.  Read what you see on the next line:

Ca   y u   rea    t is?

Pretty easy, eh?  You read: Can you read this?

But look again, that is not what you really see, is it?  What you are reading is what your experience tells you, you should be reading.  Your brain beautifully fills in the gaps, making sense of nonsense information.  That’s wonderful, isn’t it?  Or is it? 

One of the most common stories in steel fabrication goes something like this.

“Henry, where is the handrail you fabricated last week?”

“No worries boss, it’s at the galvanizer.”

“You’re sure it was to be galvanized, Henry?”

“Absolutely, galvanized per drawings, it’s going to that park on the ocean, remember?  Salt water and steel don’t get along, it had to be galvanized to keep from rusting.”

A week later the call comes in from the onsite installation crew:

“Hey, what happened to our powder coated handrail, we can’t find it in any of the material you shipped?  And what are we supposed to do with this galvanized handrail . . .

A quick review of the shop drawings reveals no mention of galvanizing, yet Henry still maintains he read it.  But what Henry read on the drawings was what his 30 years of experience told him to read.  Like the test above, Henry’s brain filled-in what he thought the drawings should say.

 

As management, what is my response to Henry? 

The first response is often for a manager to get mad at Henry, and give him a good scolding in front of others so he is embarrassed and won’t forget again.  Or, as a manager I could write Henry up with a warning, telling him two more warnings and he can be fired? 

But fired for what?  For making a mistake?  OK, but being a fair and honest (hopefully) supervisor I’ll need to fire everyone in the shop in the next 60 days, as mistakes are part of the human condition. 

But what if I, as Henry’s supervisor, am the one who really made the mistake? 

How? By not realizing that by punishing Henry I am, in effect, punishing the race horse for running.  Henry’s brain was simply doing what it naturally does, and in many situations this ability to fill-in incomplete information from past experience is an amazing blessing.       

So, at our shop we tried something different. 

First, acceptance: mistakes happen.  We took time to educate the crew on how their brain processes information, and why that can be good and bad. 

Second, compensation: Henry’s sole responsibility became shared with two other people in a process flow with Henry actually being the last person in the process. 

Third, by putting into action 1 & 2 this, to a significant degree, replaces fear of personal failure with trust in a team. 

Since instituting this process we have fabricated (2) bridges and (1) commercial fishing dock, in each project the field erector has remarked on how beautifully everything fit together.