by Patty McCord
Artwork: Freegums, Good Vibrations, 2011,
acrylic on wood, 8' x 15'
Sheryl Sandberg has
called it one of the most important documents ever to come out of Silicon
Valley. It’s been viewed more than 5 million times on the web. But when Reed
Hastings and I (along with some colleagues) wrote a PowerPoint deck explaining
how we shaped the culture and motivated performance at Netflix, where Hastings
is CEO and I was chief talent officer from 1998 to 2012, we had no idea it
would go viral. We realized that some of the talent management ideas we’d
pioneered, such as the concept that workers should be allowed to take whatever
vacation time they feel is appropriate, had been seen as a little crazy (at
least until other companies started adopting them). But we were surprised that
an unadorned set of 127 slides—no music, no animation—would become so
influential.
Culture from Reed Hastings
People find the Netflix
approach to talent and culture compelling for a few reasons. The most obvious
one is that Netflix has been really successful: During 2013 alone its stock
more than tripled, it won three Emmy awards, and its U.S. subscriber base grew
to nearly 29 million. All that aside, the approach is compelling because it
derives from common sense. In this article I’ll go beyond the bullet points to
describe five ideas that have defined the way Netflix attracts, retains, and
manages talent. But first I’ll share two conversations I had with early
employees, both of which helped shape our overall philosophy.
Crafting a Culture of
Excellence
Netflix founder and CEO
Reed Hastings discusses the company’s unconventional HR practices.
HBR: Why did you
write the Netflix culture deck?
Hastings: It’s our version of Letters to a Young Poet for budding entrepreneurs. It’s what we wish we had understood when we started. More than 100 people at Netflix have made major contributions to the deck, and we have more improvements coming.
Hastings: It’s our version of Letters to a Young Poet for budding entrepreneurs. It’s what we wish we had understood when we started. More than 100 people at Netflix have made major contributions to the deck, and we have more improvements coming.
Many of the ideas in it
seem like common sense, but they go against traditional HR practices. Why
aren’t companies more innovative when it comes to talent management?
As a society, we’ve had hundreds of years to work on managing industrial firms, so a lot of accepted HR practices are centered in that experience. We’re just beginning to learn how to run creative firms, which is quite different. Industrial firms thrive on reducing variation (manufacturing errors); creative firms thrive on increasing variation (innovation).
As a society, we’ve had hundreds of years to work on managing industrial firms, so a lot of accepted HR practices are centered in that experience. We’re just beginning to learn how to run creative firms, which is quite different. Industrial firms thrive on reducing variation (manufacturing errors); creative firms thrive on increasing variation (innovation).
What reactions have you
gotten from your peers to steps such as abolishing formal vacation and
performance review policies? In general, do you think other companies admire
your HR innovations or look askance at them?
My peers are mostly in the creative sector, and many of the ideas in our culture deck came from them. We are all learning from one another.
My peers are mostly in the creative sector, and many of the ideas in our culture deck came from them. We are all learning from one another.
Which idea in the
culture deck was the hardest sell with employees?
“Adequate performance gets a generous severance package.” It’s a pretty blunt statement of our hunger for excellence.
“Adequate performance gets a generous severance package.” It’s a pretty blunt statement of our hunger for excellence.
Have any of your talent
management innovations been total flops?
Not so far.
Not so far.
Patty talks about how
leaders should model appropriate behaviors to help people adapt to an
environment with fewer formal controls. With that in mind, how many days off
did you take in 2013?
“Days off” is a very industrial concept, like being “at the office.” I find Netflix fun to think about, so there are probably no 24-hour periods when I never think about work. But I did take three or four weeklong family trips over the past year, which were both stimulating and relaxing.
“Days off” is a very industrial concept, like being “at the office.” I find Netflix fun to think about, so there are probably no 24-hour periods when I never think about work. But I did take three or four weeklong family trips over the past year, which were both stimulating and relaxing.
The first took place in
late 2001. Netflix had been growing quickly: We’d reached about 120 employees
and had been planning an IPO. But after the dot-com bubble burst and the 9/11
attacks occurred, things changed. It became clear that we needed to put the IPO
on hold and lay off a third of our employees. It was brutal. Then, a bit
unexpectedly, DVD players became the hot gift that Christmas. By early 2002 our
DVD-by-mail subscription business was growing like crazy. Suddenly we had far
more work to do, with 30% fewer employees.
One day I was talking
with one of our best engineers, an employee I’ll call John. Before the layoffs,
he’d managed three engineers, but now he was a one-man department working very
long hours. I told John I hoped to hire some help for him soon. His response
surprised me. “There’s no rush—I’m happier now,” he said. It turned out that
the engineers we’d laid off weren’t spectacular—they were merely adequate. John
realized that he’d spent too much time riding herd on them and fixing their
mistakes. “I’ve learned that I’d rather work by myself than with subpar
performers,” he said. His words echo in my mind whenever I describe the most
basic element of Netflix’s talent philosophy: The best thing you can do for
employees—a perk better than foosball or free sushi—is hire only “A” players to
work alongside them. Excellent colleagues trump everything else.
The second conversation
took place in 2002, a few months after our IPO. Laura, our bookkeeper, was
bright, hardworking, and creative. She’d been very important to our early
growth, having devised a system for accurately tracking movie rentals so that
we could pay the correct royalties. But now, as a public company, we needed
CPAs and other fully credentialed, deeply experienced accounting
professionals—and Laura had only an associate’s degree from a community
college. Despite her work ethic, her track record, and the fact that we all
really liked her, her skills were no longer adequate. Some of us talked about
jury-rigging a new role for her, but we decided that wouldn’t be right.
So I sat down with Laura
and explained the situation—and said that in light of her spectacular service,
we would give her a spectacular severance package. I’d braced myself for tears
or histrionics, but Laura reacted well: She was sad to be leaving but
recognized that the generous severance would let her regroup, retrain, and find
a new career path. This incident helped us create the other vital element of
our talent management philosophy: If we wanted only “A” players on our team, we
had to be willing to let go of people whose skills no longer fit, no matter how
valuable their contributions had once been. Out of fairness to such people—and,
frankly, to help us overcome our discomfort with discharging them—we learned to
offer rich severance packages.
With these two
overarching principles in mind, we shaped our approach to talent using the five
tenets below.
Hire, Reward, and
Tolerate Only Fully Formed Adults
Over the years we
learned that if we asked people to rely on logic and common sense instead of on
formal policies, most of the time we would get better results, and at lower
cost. If you’re careful to hire people who will put the company’s interests
first, who understand and support the desire for a high-performance workplace,
97% of your employees will do the right thing. Most companies spend endless
time and money writing and enforcing HR policies to deal with problems the
other 3% might cause. Instead, we tried really hard to not hire those people,
and we let them go if it turned out we’d made a hiring mistake.
Adultlike behavior means
talking openly about issues with your boss, your colleagues, and your
subordinates. It means recognizing that even in companies with reams of HR
policies, those policies are frequently skirted as managers and their reports
work out what makes sense on a case-by-case basis.
Let me offer two
examples.
When Netflix launched, we
had a standard paid-time-off policy: People got 10 vacation days, 10 holidays,
and a few sick days. We used an honor system—employees kept track of the days
they took off and let their managers know when they’d be out. After we went
public, our auditors freaked. They said Sarbanes-Oxley mandated that we account
for time off. We considered instituting a formal tracking system. But then Reed
asked, “Are companies required to give time off? If not, can’t
we just handle it informally and skip the accounting rigmarole?” I did some
research and found that, indeed, no California law governed vacation time.
So instead of shifting
to a formal system, we went in the opposite direction: Salaried employees were
told to take whatever time they felt was appropriate. Bosses and employees were
asked to work it out with one another. (Hourly workers in call centers and
warehouses were given a more structured policy.) We did provide some guidance.
If you worked in accounting or finance, you shouldn’t plan to be out during the
beginning or the end of a quarter, because those were busy times. If you wanted
30 days off in a row, you needed to meet with HR. Senior leaders were urged to
take vacations and to let people know about them—they were role models for the
policy. (Most were happy to comply.) Some people worried about whether the
system would be inconsistent—whether some bosses would allow tons of time off
while others would be stingy. In general, I worried more about fairness than
consistency, because the reality is that in any organization, the
highest-performing and most valuable employees get more leeway.
We also departed from a
formal travel and expense policy and decided to simply require adultlike
behavior there, too. The company’s expense policy is five words long: “Act in
Netflix’s best interests.” In talking that through with employees, we said we
expected them to spend company money frugally, as if it were their own.
Eliminating a formal policy and forgoing expense account police shifted
responsibility to frontline managers, where it belongs. It also reduced costs:
Many large companies still use travel agents (and pay their fees) to book
trips, as a way to enforce travel policies. They could save money by letting
employees book their own trips online. Like most Netflix managers, I had to
have conversations periodically with employees who ate at lavish restaurants
(meals that would have been fine for sales or recruiting, but not for eating
alone or with a Netflix colleague). We kept an eye on our IT guys, who were
prone to buying a lot of gadgets. But overall we found that expense accounts
are another area where if you create a clear expectation of responsible
behavior, most employees will comply.
Tell the Truth About
Performance
Many years ago we
eliminated formal reviews. We had held them for a while but came to realize
they didn’t make sense—they were too ritualistic and too infrequent. So we
asked managers and employees to have conversations about performance as an
organic part of their work. In many functions—sales, engineering, product
development—it’s fairly obvious how well people are doing. (As companies
develop better analytics to measure performance, this becomes even truer.) Building
a bureaucracy and elaborate rituals around measuring performance usually
doesn’t improve it.
Traditional corporate
performance reviews are driven largely by fear of litigation. The theory is
that if you want to get rid of someone, you need a paper trail documenting a
history of poor achievement. At many companies, low performers are placed on
“Performance Improvement Plans.” I detest PIPs. I think they’re fundamentally
dishonest: They never accomplish what their name implies.
One Netflix manager requested
a PIP for a quality assurance engineer named Maria, who had been hired to help
develop our streaming service. The technology was new, and it was evolving very
quickly. Maria’s job was to find bugs. She was fast, intuitive, and
hardworking. But in time we figured out how to automate the QA tests. Maria
didn’t like automation and wasn’t particularly good at it. Her new boss
(brought in to create a world-class automation tools team) told me he wanted to
start a PIP with her.
I replied, “Why bother?
We know how this will play out. You’ll write up objectives and deliverables for
her to achieve, which she can’t, because she lacks the skills. Every Wednesday
you’ll take time away from your real work to discuss (and document) her
shortcomings. You won’t sleep on Tuesday nights, because you’ll know it will be
an awful meeting, and the same will be true for her. After a few weeks there
will be tears. This will go on for three months. The entire team will know. And
at the end you’ll fire her. None of this will make any sense to her, because
for five years she’s been consistently rewarded for being great at her job—a
job that basically doesn’t exist anymore. Tell me again how Netflix benefits?
“Instead, let’s just
tell the truth: Technology has changed, the company has changed, and Maria’s
skills no longer apply. This won’t be a surprise to her: She’s been in the
trenches, watching the work around her shift. Give her a great severance
package—which, when she signs the documents, will dramatically reduce (if not eliminate)
the chance of a lawsuit.” In my experience, people can handle anything as long
as they’re told the truth—and this proved to be the case with Maria.
When we stopped doing
formal performance reviews, we instituted informal 360-degree reviews. We kept
them fairly simple: People were asked to identify things that colleagues should
stop, start, or continue. In the beginning we used an anonymous software
system, but over time we shifted to signed feedback, and many teams held their
360s face-to-face.
HR people can’t believe
that a company the size of Netflix doesn’t hold annual reviews. “Are you making
this up just to upset us?” they ask. I’m not. If you talk simply and honestly
about performance on a regular basis, you can get good results—probably better
ones than a company that grades everyone on a five-point scale.
Managers Own the Job of
Creating Great Teams
Discussing the
military’s performance during the Iraq War, Donald Rumsfeld, the former defense
secretary, once famously said, “You go to war with the army you have, not the
army you might want or wish to have at a later time.” When I talk to managers
about creating great teams, I tell them to approach the process in exactly the
opposite way.
In my consulting work, I
ask managers to imagine a documentary about what their team is accomplishing
six months from now. What specific results do they see? How is the work
different from what the team is doing today? Next I ask them to think about the
skills needed to make the images in the movie become reality. Nowhere in the
early stages of the process do I advise them to think about the team they
actually have. Only after they’ve done the work of envisioning the ideal
outcome and the skill set necessary to achieve it should they analyze how well
their existing team matches what they need.
If you’re in a
fast-changing business environment, you’re probably looking at a lot of
mismatches. In that case, you need to have honest conversations about letting
some team members find a place where their skills are a better fit. You also
need to recruit people with the right skills.
We faced the latter
challenge at Netflix in a fairly dramatic way as we began to shift from DVDs by
mail to a streaming service. We had to store massive volumes of files in the
cloud and figure out how huge numbers of people could reliably access them. (By
some estimates, up to a third of peak residential internet traffic in the U.S.
comes from customers streaming Netflix movies.) So we needed to find people
deeply experienced with cloud services who worked for companies that operate on
a giant scale—companies like Amazon, eBay, Google, and Facebook, which aren’t
the easiest places to hire someone away from.
Our compensation
philosophy helped a lot. Most of its principles stem from ideals described
earlier: Be honest, and treat people like adults. For instance, during my
tenure Netflix didn’t pay performance bonuses, because we believed that they’re
unnecessary if you hire the right people. If your employees are fully formed
adults who put the company first, an annual bonus won’t make them work harder
or smarter. We also believed in market-based pay and would tell employees that
it was smart to interview with competitors when they had the chance, in order
to get a good sense of the market rate for their talent. Many HR people dislike
it when employees talk to recruiters, but I always told employees to take the
call, ask how much, and send me the number—it’s valuable information.
In addition, we used
equity compensation much differently from the way most companies do. Instead of
larding stock options on top of a competitive salary, we let employees choose
how much (if any) of their compensation would be in the form of equity. If
employees wanted stock options, we reduced their salaries accordingly. We
believed that they were sophisticated enough to understand the trade-offs,
judge their personal tolerance for risk, and decide what was best for them and
their families. We distributed options every month, at a slight discount from
the market price. We had no vesting period—the options could be cashed in
immediately. Most tech companies have a four-year vesting schedule and try to
use options as “golden handcuffs” to aid retention, but we never thought that
made sense. If you see a better opportunity elsewhere, you should be allowed to
take what you’ve earned and leave. If you no longer want to work with us, we
don’t want to hold you hostage.
We continually told
managers that building a great team was their most important task. We didn’t
measure them on whether they were excellent coaches or mentors or got their
paperwork done on time. Great teams accomplish great work, and recruiting the
right team was the top priority.
Leaders Own the Job of
Creating the Company Culture
After I left Netflix and
began consulting, I visited a hot start-up in San Francisco. It had 60
employees in an open loft-style office with a foosball table, two pool tables,
and a kitchen, where a chef cooked lunch for the entire staff. As the CEO showed
me around, he talked about creating a fun atmosphere. At one point I asked him
what the most important value for his company was. He replied, “Efficiency.”
“OK,” I said. “Imagine
that I work here, and it’s 2:58 PM. I’m playing an intense
game of pool, and I’m winning. I estimate that I can finish the game in five
minutes. We have a meeting at 3:00. Should I stay and win the game or cut it
short for the meeting?”
“You should finish the
game,” he insisted. I wasn’t surprised; like many tech start-ups, this was a
casual place, where employees wore hoodies and brought pets to work, and that
kind of casualness often extends to punctuality. “Wait a second,” I said. “You
told me that efficiency is your most important cultural value. It’s not
efficient to delay a meeting and keep coworkers waiting because of a pool game.
Isn’t there a mismatch between the values you’re talking up and the behaviors
you’re modeling and encouraging?”
When I advise leaders
about molding a corporate culture, I tend to see three issues that need
attention. This type of mismatch is one. It’s a particular problem at
start-ups, where there’s a premium on casualness that can run counter to the
high-performance ethos leaders want to create. I often sit in on company
meetings to get a sense of how people operate. I frequently see CEOs who are
clearly winging it. They lack a real agenda. They’re working from slides that
were obviously put together an hour before or were recycled from the previous
round of VC meetings. Workers notice these things, and if they see a leader
who’s not fully prepared and who relies on charm, IQ, and improvisation, it
affects how they perform, too. It’s a waste of time to articulate ideas about
values and culture if you don’t model and reward behavior that aligns with those
goals.
The second issue has to
do with making sure employees understand the levers that drive the business. I
recently visited a Texas start-up whose employees were mostly engineers in
their twenties. “I bet half the people in this room have never read a P&L,”
I said to the CFO. He replied, “It’s true—they’re not financially savvy or
business savvy, and our biggest challenge is teaching them how the business
works.” Even if you’ve hired people who want to perform well, you need to
clearly communicate how the company makes money and what behaviors will drive
its success. At Netflix, for instance, employees used to focus too heavily on
subscriber growth, without much awareness that our expenses often ran ahead of
it: We were spending huge amounts buying DVDs, setting up distribution centers,
and ordering original programming, all before we’d collected a cent from our
new subscribers. Our employees needed to learn that even though revenue was
growing, managing expenses really mattered.
The third issue is something
I call the split personality start-up. At tech companies this usually manifests
itself as a schism between the engineers and the sales team, but it can take
other forms. At Netflix, for instance, I sometimes had to remind people that
there were big differences between the salaried professional staff at
headquarters and the hourly workers in the call centers. At one point our
finance team wanted to shift the whole company to direct-deposit paychecks, and
I had to point out that some of our hourly workers didn’t have bank accounts.
That’s a small example, but it speaks to a larger point: As leaders build a
company culture, they need to be aware of subcultures that might require
different management.
Good Talent Managers
Think Like Businesspeople and Innovators First, and Like HR People Last
Throughout most of my
career I’ve belonged to professional associations of human resources
executives. Although I like the people in these groups personally, I often find
myself disagreeing with them. Too many devote time to morale improvement
initiatives. At some places entire teams focus on getting their firm onto lists
of “Best Places to Work” (which, when you dig into the methodologies, are
really based just on perks and benefits). At a recent conference I met someone
from a company that had appointed a “chief happiness officer”—a concept that
makes me slightly sick.
During 30 years in
business I’ve never seen an HR initiative that improved morale. HR departments
might throw parties and hand out T-shirts, but if the stock price is falling or
the company’s products aren’t perceived as successful, the people at those
parties will quietly complain—and they’ll use the T-shirts to wash their cars.
Instead of cheerleading,
people in my profession should think of themselves as businesspeople. What’s
good for the company? How do we communicate that to employees? How can we help
every worker understand what we mean by high performance?
Here’s a simple test: If
your company has a performance bonus plan, go up to a random employee and ask,
“Do you know specifically what you should be doing right now to increase your
bonus?” If he or she can’t answer, the HR team isn’t making things as clear as
they need to be.
At Netflix I worked with
colleagues who were changing the way people consume filmed entertainment, which
is an incredibly innovative pursuit—yet when I started there, the expectation
was that I would default to mimicking other companies’ best practices (many of
them antiquated), which is how almost everyone seems to approach HR. I rejected
those constraints. There’s no reason the HR team can’t be innovative too.
Patty McCord is the founder of Patty McCord Consulting and the former
chief talent
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