Clean Business Cuisine

and

Journal of Business Strategy

ISSN: 0275-6668

Article publication date: 1 December 2005

95

Citation

Mainelli, M. and Harris, I. (2005), "Clean Business Cuisine", Journal of Business Strategy, Vol. 26 No. 6. https://doi.org/10.1108/jbs.2005.28826faf.001

Publisher

:

Emerald Group Publishing Limited

Copyright © 2005, Emerald Group Publishing Limited


Clean Business Cuisine

Michael Mainelli and Ian Harris,ISBN 1 84059 227 3, price £14.99. For further information, please e-mail michael_mainelli@zyen.com or ian_harris@zyen.com or telephone: +44 (20) 7562-9562. Z/Yen helps organisations make better choices. The name combines Zen and Yen – “a philosophical desire to succeed” – in a ratio, recognising that all decisions are trade-offs.

With this issue of Journal of Business Strategy we continue serializing one of the more amusing business books of recent times, even though it is about ancient times. Our thanks to authors Michael Mainelli and Ian Harris for providing this divertimento from their book, Clean Business Cuisine.

Epilogue

See You, Z/Yen

When you know you’re gonna go, you gotta blow your dough. (from the “Last Will and Testament of Chao Kli Ning”, unearthed in Italy together with some unusually shaped noodles, probably a 15th century forgery).

[How a magnificent business philosophy was established due to the munificence of a great man – and further funding from his children’s, and his children’s children’s, gambling debts.]

“All good things must come to an end”, said Chao Kli Ning, the venerable businessman of his village, region and country as he left the gaming table. A shrill chorus of children’s screams greeted his remark – “you can’t leave now, Grandpa!”, “how can you?”, “you always leave when we’ve run out of money!”, “why can’t we ever use your pair of lucky dice?”.

Kli Ning seemed oblivious to their protests, patting each grandchild on the head, and collecting IOUs from some of the more impoverished, inveterate losers. Kli Ning walked towards his mansion, past the still thriving, original business which had made him a household name in these parts, the Kwik Klining Duck Tea House and Laundry. As he walked, he mused on enforcing some of the IOUs by leaning on his own children for their offspring’s debts, purely in the interest of teaching his progeny not to participate in a rigged game. However, his thoughts soon moved from familial extortion to his forthcoming weekly tea with his loyal retainer and general manager, Lo Fan.

Following a few minutes walk behind Kli Ning, Lo Fan hurried his step as he bustled towards Kli Ning’s mansion. Lo Fan knew Kli Ning would probably be a bit late, collecting from his grandchildren always took a bit of time. On this particular occasion Lo Fan was especially keen to resolve an outstanding personal issue, his elevation to Esteemed Executive Elder status, with all of the additional benefits that status implied – a regular stipend, tax-advantageous “business trips”, occasional consultancy fees plus virtually unlimited free time to spend with his grandchildren and goldfish. For Lo Fan, today’s meeting with Kli Ning would seal the rewards of a lifetime’s dedication to the highest standards of fast food and textile maintenance services.

After the ceremonies of tea and the usual update on business, Lo Fan carefully chose the moment to broach the subject of his Esteemed Executive Elder status. “O esteemed master”, began Lo Fan, hoping that a sycophantic start would lead to a sympathetic solution, “we have worked long and hard together for many a year and my auspicious anniversary of birth is fast approaching. We have spoken several times before about the transition in my role which should be the natural consequence of my seniority.”

“Ah,” said Kli Ning, “you are speaking of your retirement. I suppose it is natural for a man of your age and limited ability to wish to leave the rather unrewarding affairs of business behind, in search of the joys of sitting at home with your family. I suppose it is fortuitous for our business that I have already spent such great efforts on preparing your assistant, Hai Fan, for high office. I feel that he will be a worthy successor to you.”

“Oh esteemed and far-sighted master,” riposted Lo Fan, hoping that a sycophantic riposte would prevent a disadvantageous resolution, “given our previous discussions, my lifetime of devoted service and the penury of my personal savings, I had rather hoped for Esteemed Executive Elder status based on my potential future contributions to the business. As you know, many of my past contributions were wrapped up in my pension plan, much of which we misapplied in that ill-fated investment fund for advanced cleaning automata.”

“All’s well that ends well,” explained Kli Ning insensitively. “That’s the way the fortune cookie crumbles; to coin a phrase. Anyway, I’m sure that the paucity of your personal finance hardly precludes some comfortable twilight years. Despite your investments in advanced cleaning automata, you know that our business is unable to recompense your losses and, even if we were to consider compensating you, the tax effect would be prohibitive. Besides, Esteemed Executive Elder status is reserved for the select few who deserve significant post-employment compensations and benefits in order to secure the application of their wisdom for future business endeavours. Get a big picture grip on the details. I hardly think that a mere forty years with the Kwik Klining Duck Tea House and Laundry qualifies you as a repository of significant wisdom. This may seem harsh, but I mean my remarks as an informative appraisal.”

“Oh esteemed, far-sighted and tax-efficient master,” opined Lo Fan, hoping that a sycophantic phrase would avert an impecunious disaster, “whilst I admire, and indeed would normally support, your caring appraisal of the risk/reward potential of my future, the only asset I have to sell in my twilight years is the wisdom I have gained from involvement with your enterprises under your tutelage. It would seem a shame for me to have to top up my denuded pension with consultancy income derived from work for competing restaurants and laundries as well as occasional paid assistance to tax investigating authorities seeking business insights. As you are well aware, many businessmen protect their key employees’ knowledge by paying slightly more over the years against an exclusivity agreement. You, very wisely, perceived that loyalty did not need payment, as long as the restaurant and laundry skills were transferred from the older employees to the newer employees. It is a shame that, of the newer employees, so many of the skills are vested in one individual, Hai Fan.”

“Lo Fan,” interrupted Kli Ning, “despite your limitations, perhaps wisdom is of some importance in business. On reflection, it is only right and proper that a long-serving individual such as yourself, a font of knowledge of our operations, should retain an esteemed position as the principal source of training for the newer employees of the Kwik Klining Duck Tea House and Laundry.”

“Oh esteemed, far-sighted, tax-efficient and insightful master,” observed Lo Fan, hoping that a sycophantic observation might multiply his tenuous gains, “surely a mere training course could not possibly reflect on the wisdom I have to transmit – a wisdom not born from my humble experiences, but gained from years of exposure to you in action. Training would hardly do your wisdom justice. A temple is the only establishment worthy of custody for such wisdom. Your name should be enshrined as founder of the first institution dedicated to the wisdom of business affairs. Monks of Business Affairs would go forth to spread your teachings to the far corners of the earth, naturally with exclusivity clauses preventing them from sharing their wisdom with fast food and laundry establishments.”

“Lo Fan, you are right to recognise your limited absorption of my teachings. Yet from your abject position, you are also right to recognise that to call this wisdom training is demeaning. Running a Kwik Klining Duck Tea House and Laundry is not just a profession, it is a philosophy of life. In fact, it is not just a philosophy of life, it is a way of life. It does deserve a temple. There ought to be a monastery dedicated to preserving and teaching this way of life. If only the monks could see the importance of my teachings and some of the tax-efficient ways in which the donations could be combined with our business.”

“Oh esteemed, far-sighted, tax-efficient, insightful and ever-enterprising master”, complimented Lo Fan, hoping that a sycophantic egging-on might build an even more favourable result, “such narrow-mindedness is typical of the monastic orders. They are so obsessed with religion that they often lose sight of the substantial financial rewards here on earth. If they can’t dress their teachings up in some mumbo-jumbo, some marketing mystique, they are rarely interested in true enlightenment.”

“Ah, enlightenment in business”, mused Kli Ning. “Now there’s a concept. I bet that would sell. If only we had a snazzy, thrilling name for our business philosophy, something like Improved Business Performance or Totally Total Re-engineering. No, perhaps it should be short and snappy, say Yen, like the Yen Buddhists. You could even be the chief Yen monk, training my acolytes.”

“Well, Yen is good and implies a craving. As we know, the only great sales are philosophies or dependencies or drugs,” observed Lo Fan, realising that sycophantic preambles were unnecessary as he approached the winning straight, “but there are already Yen philosophies, Yen money, Yen restaurants, the yin-yang lot and even Yen – the Cantonese Craving (opium). Perhaps we should look for something more philosophical and exotic sounding, say Zen?”

“Zen sounds philosophical and implies enlightenment,” cogitated Kli Ning. “But speaking as a professional marketeer, Zen is a great name for a philosophy but a terrible name for a religion. Get a detailed grip on the big picture. It would never catch on with the monks. Without a catchy name, a monastic institution is bound to fail. Perhaps we won’t need the services of a chief monk after all.”

“Oh esteemed, far-sighted, tax-efficient, insightful, ever-enterprising and sensitive master,” murmured Lo Fan, hoping that a lengthy sycophantic phrase might buy him some thinking time. “Why not combine the philosophy of enlightenment with the craving for money. Zen is a good philosophy word; Yen is a good desire word – combine the two. Let’s call your wonderful Total Business Philosophy and Way of Life – Zen/Yen or Z/Yen – a philosophical desire to make money. Business people would pay a fortune for a well packaged philosophy.”

Kli Ning was ecstatic. After a few weeks of arguing with his children’s and grandchildren’s lawyers, plus some subtle pressure regarding gambling debts, he was able to convince the more militant of his family that an educational foundation would prove to be the best way of passing on his inheritance. Lo Fan gained great prestige as the chief monk of Z/Yen. As the chief chronicler of Chao Kli Ning’s teachings, Lo Fan presided over many Chao family conflicts in the years after the great man’s death. In making his difficult judgements as executor of Kli Ning’s estate, Lo Fan used fully his position as head of the most pre-eminent religious business order in the region, as well as a set of lucky dice which Kli Ning had mysteriously left to him. Lo Fan’s impartiality in judgement was legendary, especially when a key decision required one of six choices. As he remarked himself, judgement fees with substantial book rights ensured him a seriously comfortable lifestyle.

In the centuries that followed Kli Ning and Lo Fan, the school of Z/Yen flourished. Disciples dispersed to the many corners of the soon-to-be round earth. Many disciples’ businesses flourished too. Where the disciples’ businesses did not flourish, the disciples retrained as Monks of Business Affairs and turned to teaching the business of Z/Yen. And thus were many pointless and repetitive business books born. Thankfully, the passing of the ages, and some darn good bonfires at business libraries, have saved scholars the trouble of translating most of the obscure works, although many of the original “totally total” concepts can still be found in “The Z/Yen Papers”, the extant manuscript remnants of Chao Kli Ning, restaurateur, launderer and man with an uncanny knack for spotting an opportunity to make a quick buck.

The devil is not in the detail, the devil is not even in the big picture. Get a grip, the devil does not exist at all (loosly translated from the best-selling “orthodox tenets of Chao Kli Ning”).

Questions for students:

  • Devise a test to calibrate the fairness or unfairness skew of Chao Kli Ning’s lucky dice. Warning: these dice might be heavily loaded, so do use appropriate safety equipment.

  • Draft a will for Chao Kli Ning which protects Z/Yen’s intellectual property rights for the benefit of Kli Ning’s immediate descendants and those of Lo Fan in perpetuity. Ensure that the will contains sufficient loopholes to provide you with substantial, personal risky rewards the Z/Yen way.

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