Day nine of the feature: sales are forty percent over plan, thirty Harlow's stores have empty core shelves, and Richard wants to know when it goes away. Helen has twenty minutes to turn a crisis into a plan — facts first, blame never.
Right — twenty minutes. Facts first, feelings after, and nobody explains whose fault it is until we've fixed it. Amanda, headline.
In the first ten seconds, Helen sets three rules: a time limit, facts before feelings, and no blame until the problem is fixed. A crisis meeting without rules turns into a meeting about who is to blame.
Headline: we're forty percent over plan. About twelve hundred and sixty cases a week against nine hundred. The trigger fired on day four, Luca opened the drawer the same afternoon, and the flagships got extra stock on day five, as agreed.
So the plan worked. And the problem?
The plan worked for fifteen percent over. We're at forty. As of this morning, about thirty stores have gaps on the core bars. Not the feature — the core range. The lines under the penalty clause.
Amanda gives the single most important fact first, then the numbers that support it, then exactly where the problem sits. In a crisis, people decide on the first sentence they hear — make it the right one.
How sure are we of forty?
Very sure. It's the shared sell-out feed — every store, every day. And it isn't slowing down. Yesterday was the biggest day so far.
Before anyone reacts, Helen asks how reliable the key number is. Acting fast on a wrong number is worse than acting a few minutes later on a right one.
And Richard rang me at seven. The new director saw a photo from a store in Leeds. An empty shelf, right next to our feature end — full of the same bar at twenty-five percent off.
The photo I was hoping we'd never see. Fine. Now we know what we're dealing with.
Luca — where exactly did it break?
Here is the chain. The co-packer makes about a thousand a week. When the trigger fired, I used both weekend blocks and I booked the co-packer's extra — but they need ten days, so that volume arrives next Monday. To keep the ends full until then, I moved Line Two across to the feature. Line Two makes the core bars. So the feature looks perfect, and the core range is empty.
Luca doesn't defend himself; he walks the room through cause and effect, one link at a time. A chain lets everyone see where it broke — and where it can be fixed — without anyone feeling accused.
Can I say one thing? The trigger was right. Fifteen percent was a sensible line. Nobody in this room predicted forty.
If we'd just planned to twelve hundred from the start—
Stop. Lessons on Friday. Thirty minutes, no blame, and I'll bring the coffee. Right now, we fix. What's the gap in days?
"If we'd just…" is hindsight, and in a crisis it wastes the time you need for the fix. Helen doesn't argue with Edmund — she gives the lesson a date and a time, and moves the room back to the problem.
Today is Tuesday. The co-packer's extra lands Monday. So the gap is six days.
And what does six days of gaps cost us?
Two things. The penalty — if the gaps last until Monday, it's roughly what we made on the first week of the feature. So we'd be giving back a week of profit. And the second thing is harder to put a number on.
"Roughly what we made on the first week" is easier to understand than a penalty figure. Translating a number into a comparison helps everyone feel the size of the problem at once.
The new director. This feature was supposed to be his first impression of us. Right now his first impression is a photo.
What exactly did Richard say? His words, not your summary.
Under pressure, people report how a conversation felt, not what was said. Helen asks for the exact words because the plan depends on them — a summary can make a customer sound angrier, or calmer, than he really was.
"Edmund, I've got a photo on my desk that I didn't order. Call me back when you know when it goes away." Then he hung up. He wasn't shouting. That's worse.
But that's useful, actually. He didn't ask why. He asked when.
Then the question isn't how we avoid the penalty. It's how quickly the shelves are full, and how we say so.
Helen changes the question from "how do we avoid paying?" to "how fast do we fix it, and what do we say?". In a crisis, the wrong question leads to clever excuses; the right one leads to action.
Options. Each one with its price, please.
Three. One: a third weekend block, this Saturday and Sunday. That gives us about two days back. The price is the crew — they've already done two weekends in a row.
Two: Line Two goes back to the core bars today, and we cover the feature by moving stock from the slowest forty stores to the busy ones. I have the store-by-store data — I can send the list by lunchtime. The price: the ends in quiet stores will look thinner for a few days.
Helen asks for "each one with its price", and everyone answers that way: what it gives, and what it costs. Options without costs make every choice look easy — and the decision ends up being made on hope.
Can Harlow's depots actually move stock that fast between stores?
If they say yes this morning, it's on the trucks tomorrow night. That's why I'd rather send the list at twelve than at four.
Three: we ask Harlow's to stop the twenty-five percent in some stores until Monday.
No. I'll be honest — that one I can't sell. Before the terms, I said I didn't want to be the supplier who promised and vanished. Asking them to switch off the deal we fought for is exactly that.
Edmund rejects an option clearly, but he gives the reason and connects it to a promise he made earlier. A "no" with a reason moves the discussion forward; a "no" without one starts an argument.
Agreed. Three is off the table. Is there a fourth? Can the co-packer go faster?
Before choosing, Helen checks whether the list of options is complete. The fourth option turns out to be small — but it is cheap and quick, so she approves it on the spot. Not every decision needs a discussion.
I asked them at seven this morning. Monday is Monday. They can send half on Saturday, if we pay for a special truck. It's not much, but it's something.
Book the truck. That one doesn't need a meeting.
Luca, one is your call. Will the crew do a third weekend?
I don't know, and I won't decide for them. Last time I asked, and they said yes. I'll ask again today. If they say no, it's no, and I'd rather hear it from them than see it in the sick days next month.
Luca won't promise something that isn't his to promise. He commits to asking, accepts the answer in advance, and explains the real risk of pushing too hard. Protecting your team doesn't mean refusing — it means being honest about the cost.
That's the right answer. Tell them it's the last one this quarter — and mean it. And Luca, whatever they say, tell them I said thank you for the first two.
I will. They'll ask if there's cake this time.
There's cake.
Edmund — Richard. You call him back this morning, before he has to chase you. Say your first sentence to me.
Richard, I'm really sorry, we've had a problem with—
Stop. That's the apology. He'll hear "sorry" and "problem", and he'll stop listening. Start with the date.
When you give a customer bad news, your first sentence should tell them when it will be fixed. An apology first makes the customer focus on the problem; a date first makes them focus on the solution. The apology still comes — just second.
Richard — core lines back to full in all thirty stores by Monday. Here's what happened, here's what we're doing, and here's what I need from you.
Better. What do you need from him?
Permission for Amanda's list — moving stock between his stores needs his depot team. And a quiet word with the new director, so the second photo he sees is a full shelf.
A crisis call shouldn't end with "we're working on it". Edmund turns Richard from a complainer into a partner by asking for two concrete things he can actually do.
Now I'll be Richard. "Edmund, two weeks ago you told me you were ready for a big week."
We were ready for a big week. This was a very big week. Our plan covered most of it, and we're closing the rest by Monday. I'd rather tell you that today than explain it next month.
Good. True, and not defensive.
Edmund doesn't deny what he said or make excuses. He agrees with the fact, adds the context in one sentence, and moves straight to the fix. Practising the hardest question before the call is one of the most useful things a team can do.
And if he brings up the penalty?
It's in the contract, and we'll honour it. I won't argue about it on the phone. The fastest way to make a penalty bigger is to argue about it.
Edmund separates the two conversations: today is about trust and the fix; the penalty is already agreed. Accepting it calmly costs nothing extra — fighting it on a bad day could cost the relationship.
Decision. Option two, today. Line Two goes back to the core bars this afternoon. Amanda, the store list by twelve. Luca, ask the crew by two; if they say yes, the third block runs this weekend. Edmund, Richard before ten, and a two-line note to me after the call. Anyone not behind that?
Every action has one name and one time. "Anyone not behind that?" gives people a last chance to disagree out loud — so nobody disagrees later in the corridor.
Behind it. And one thing for everyone else in the building — if anyone at Harlow's calls our sales team or customer service today, they say "Edmund will call you" and nothing else.
Good. I'll send that message myself, now. One voice — that rule matters more today than it did two weeks ago.
In a crisis, the customer often calls several people looking for a different answer. Amanda makes sure the whole company sends the same message: one person speaks, everyone else redirects.
One sentence for Friday. The trigger worked. It just wasn't big enough.
Then that's the first line on Friday's page. A trigger for fifteen percent, and a second one for thirty.
Luca offers one sentence for the review, and Helen writes it down for Friday instead of discussing it now. The lesson is kept, and the crisis meeting stays a crisis meeting.
And — my phone. Richard again. He's moving the category review forward. He wants us in next week.
Of course he does. Then by next week, we'd better have full shelves and a good story. Go.