The Monday after the final steering committee, the partner runs a debrief with the engagement manager and the consultant. They look at what went well and what went wrong, without blame. The partner admits her own mistakes, the consultant asks for more responsibility, and the team decides how to respond to the client's request for a follow-on proposal.
Right. One hour, three questions. What went well, what went wrong, and what each of us will do differently. No blame. If something went wrong, we talk about what happened, not who did it. Owen, what went well?
We gave Philip a smaller number, and he believed it. I think that's the main thing. He'd been telling his board four million for a year, and on Friday he approved two point two without a fight.
Why did he believe it?
Because every number came from Norvane's own data. And because he heard the bad news early, so the good news didn't sound like a sales pitch.
Meera?
The Glasgow figure. Our first hypothesis was wrong, and the data showed it. We could have defended Leeds. We changed the answer instead.
Good. And who found the Glasgow figure?
Joanna's team. We asked the right question at the workshop, but they did the work.
Write that down. When the best idea comes from the client, the job is to notice it, measure it, and give the credit back. That's not modesty. It's how the client ends up owning the answer.
Judith doesn't stop at "what went well". She asks why it worked, so the team can repeat it. A debrief that only lists successes is a celebration. A debrief that explains them is a lesson.
And one more. The pre-wire with Javier. On Friday, nobody in the room heard anything for the first time.
Agreed. And Javier changed the plan, and the plan got better. That doesn't happen if you treat the sceptic as a problem to manage.
And he let us measure Glasgow. At the workshop, he called it a local habit. On Friday, he said the data on Glasgow is real.
Which tells you something about Javier. He argues hard, but he argues with facts. Those are the best people to have against you.
Philip said something similar on Friday. A recommendation that nobody argued with, he wouldn't trust.
One more, and it's yours, Owen. In week eight, you told me the plan didn't fit: seventy-five days of work and seventy days of people. A lot of managers would have worked the weekends and said nothing.
I nearly did. And Meera nearly did it for me.
Now the harder question. What went wrong?
I'll start, because it's mine. The data was late, and I knew two weeks before the steering committee. I didn't tell you, and I didn't tell Philip. I thought I could fix it before it mattered.
What did it cost?
A moment in front of Philip that I'd rather not repeat. He asked me when I knew, and I had to say "two weeks ago."
And what's different now?
The rule we agreed. The day I know, you know. And Philip the same day. I used it last week, when the Bristol plan changed. I told you and Philip on Monday, not in Wednesday's pack.
And the weekends? They were part of the same problem.
They were. Meera's weekends were me trying to fix the delay quietly. A one-line email the day Joanna's team told us would have cost me nothing. That's the part I'm least proud of.
I chose to work them. Nobody forced me.
You chose it because nobody told you not to. That's the point. Silence from the top sounds like an instruction. Which brings me to mine, because a debrief where only the junior people make mistakes isn't a debrief. Two things. I offered Philip the board session without checking whether we had the people for it. And I didn't ask about weekends. Meera worked three of them, and I only found out from Owen.
Owen names his own mistake before anyone else does, says what it cost, and shows the rule he now follows, with an example. That's the strongest way to talk about a mistake: what happened, what it cost, what changed, and proof that it changed.
I didn't say anything. That's partly mine.
Partly. But I'm the partner. Asking is my job, not yours. Meera, what went wrong for you?
At the internal review, my first sentence didn't pass. It was so long I couldn't repeat it to myself. I knew the numbers, but I couldn't say what they meant.
And on Friday?
On Friday, Philip asked how sure I was of the fifteen. I said the eight is measured and the fifteen is a forecast. That was one sentence.
It was. And Joanna wrote it in the minutes.
I noticed. It's the first time something I said went into a client's minutes.
Judith admits two mistakes of her own right after Owen's. When the most senior person in the room is honest about their own mistakes, everyone else can be honest too. When they aren't, the debrief turns into a list of other people's faults.
Meera, your written review goes in this week. I'll tell you what it says now, so you don't read it for the first time. The Glasgow analysis was the best work on this engagement. The weekends are in there too, as effort, not as an expectation.
Thank you. Can I ask for something?
Please.
On the next engagement, I'd like to present a part of the work myself. Not just build the numbers for someone else to present. On Friday I had two minutes, and I'd like more than two minutes next time.
I'd support that. Philip asked her the hardest question in the meeting, and she answered it better than I would have.
Agreed. Next engagement, you present one section, from start to finish, questions included. What else?
One more. The weekend rule. Owen asked for it, and you said it to me. But it isn't written anywhere. I'd like it in the plan for the next engagement, so the next consultant doesn't have to ask.
Meera asks for two concrete things: a section to present, and a rule written into the plan. Both are specific, both are easy to say yes to, and both come with a reason. "I'd like more responsibility" is a wish. "I'd like to present one section" is a request.
That's fair, and it's a better idea than mine. I'll put it in the template for every engagement, not just ours.
Before we finish, there's something new. Philip sent me an email this morning. One sentence. "Board on Thursday as planned. After that, I'd like a proposal for implementation, including the phone systems. No promises."
That's three sentences.
He's improving.
"No promises" is the important part. A follow-on is earned, not assumed. So we write it the same way we wrote the first one: the one sentence on page two, and what we're not doing on its own page. And this time, we agree the payment terms before we meet procurement, not after. Last time, Stefano's sixty days took two weeks of emails to become forty-five.
And the phone systems are in it this time. Glasgow's system is the oldest, and the method depends on Glasgow.
And the eighteen per cent. If we help with implementation, Philip's checkpoint becomes our number too. If Leeds isn't there after six months, we'll be in the room when he hears it.
Good. That's the right reason to be careful. And if Philip says yes, the phone systems section is yours, Meera.
Because I raised it in the war room?
Because you raised it before the work even started, before anyone asked. I told you then to say things like that early. You did, and now the client is asking us to look at it. One more thing. Javier.
He emailed too. The fourth team leader in Bristol said yes. And he added: "Don't make me regret it."
Then the first person who sees the implementation proposal is Javier, before anyone else. Same as before.
I'll call him before I write a word of it. He'll tell me what's wrong with it anyway.
Judith treats the follow-on as a new sale, not a reward. The team plans to write it with the same discipline as the first proposal, and to show it to the sceptic early again. What worked on this engagement becomes the method for the next one.
Last question, and then you can go. If you had to describe this engagement in one sentence, what would you say? Owen.
We told the client a smaller number, early, and he trusted us more because of it.
Meera?
The cheapest centre per call wasn't the cheapest centre per customer, and the client found the reason before we did.
Both good. Here's mine. A problem you hide doesn't disappear; somebody pays for it. On this engagement, we stopped hiding them. Owen, on the first evening, you asked me what the one sentence was for. Do you know now?
It's what the client repeats when you're not in the room.
Exactly. And before you ask, here's yours. One thing to keep, one to change. Keep letting the client change your plan when they're right. Change the habit of fixing things alone before you ask. Asking early isn't weakness. It's information.
Noted. The day I know.
Good. Thursday, ten o'clock, Philip's board. Owen, you present. I'll speak about the money. Meera, you take the Leeds questions.
More than two minutes?
As long as the questions last.
The debrief ends with the lesson in one sentence and a clear next step: who presents what on Thursday. A good debrief changes what happens next, not just what people think about what happened.