ABSTRACT
Charles ‘Chuck’ Coonradt was stuck for words. He knew, as a consultant, that he was supposed to have all the answers, and at this moment he most certainly did not. He was visiting a factory that made prefabricated homes on a production line. He was observing the process from a second-floor window with the plant manager, a man in his mid-50s, who had just given Coonradt what Coonradt himself called the ‘kids today’ lecture. When the manager had finished painting a sepia picture of his own generational values and work ethic, he pointed to the factory floor below and asked Coonradt: ‘What are you going to do about that?’ Coonradt observed eight twenty-somethings working on a production line at a pace that he would later characterise as ‘arthritic snails in wet cement’. Before Coonradt answered – or, more accurately, didn't answer – he was saved by the bell. A clanging announced lunchtime, at which point the eight men dropped their hammers, picked up a basketball, ran 50 yards down the factory floor and played 42 minutes of feverishly paced basketball. Coonradt considered the level of frenetic energy being expended, turned to the plant manager, and said: ‘I don't think you have a raw material problem.’
