“That’s just how we do things here”
David’s predecessor had left behind a gift: 23-page operations manual titled “Essential Workarounds and Daily Fixes.” It was thorough. Detailed. Color-coded. A masterpiece of institutional knowledge.
It was also insane.
“Every morning, export this report, copy column F into a separate Excel sheet, manually adjust the formulas, then upload it back into the system.”
“If the inventory count shows a negative number, ignore it and check the secondary database.”
“System won’t let you process returns on Thursdays between 2-4 PM. Wait until after 4 or do it manually.”
Forty-five workarounds. Forty-five bandages on problems nobody had bothered to fix. During his first week, David dutifully learned each one. He took notes. He practiced. He got pretty good at them.
During his second week, he started asking questions.
“Why do we have to export and re-upload this report every morning?”
“That’s just how we do things here.”
“But why?”
His manager shrugged. “Legacy system issue. Been that way for years.”
David pulled up the ticket history. The “legacy system issue” had been fixed eighteen months ago. They were still doing the workaround because nobody had thought to stop.
He checked another one. Then another. A pattern emerged: most of these workarounds were solving problems that no longer existed. They’d become muscle memory, passed down from person to person like a game of telephone where everyone forgot what the original message was.
“Has anyone actually tested whether we still need to do this?” David asked in a team meeting.
Silence. Then someone laughed nervously. “I mean… we could try?”
They did. One workaround at a time, David and his team tested whether the problem still existed. More often than not, it didn’t. The system had been updated. The bug had been fixed. The constraint had been removed. But the workaround had survived anyway, like a remedy for a disease that had been cured years ago.
Some workarounds, of course, were legitimate symptoms of real problems. David didn’t eliminate those. He fixed the underlying issues instead.
Four months in, David’s manager asked how he was settling into the role.
“Pretty well,” David said. “I deleted the operations manual.”
The manager’s eyes widened. “The whole thing?”
“Didn’t need it anymore. We fixed the problems instead of working around them.”
His manager stared at him. “You know how long it took to build that manual?”
“Yeah,” David said. “Which is exactly why I deleted it. If we’re spending that much time documenting workarounds, we’re spending our effort on the wrong thing.”
The Numbers Tell the Story
Documented Workarounds
- Before: 45 essential daily fixes
- After: 0 necessary workarounds
- Impact: From managing chaos to eliminating it
Time Spent on Manual Corrections
- Before: 6+ “That’s just how we do things here”
David’s predecessor had left behind a gift: 23-page operations manual titled “Essential Workarounds and Daily Fixes.” It was thorough. Detailed. Color-coded. A masterpiece of institutional knowledge.
It was also insane.
“Every morning, export this report, copy column F into a separate Excel sheet, manually adjust the formulas, then upload it back into the system.”
“If the inventory count shows a negative number, ignore it and check the secondary database.”
“System won’t let you process returns on Thursdays between 2-4 PM. Wait until after 4 or do it manually.”
Forty-five workarounds. Forty-five bandages on problems nobody had bothered to fix. During his first week, David dutifully learned each one. He took notes. He practiced. He got pretty good at them.
During his second week, he started asking questions.
“Why do we have to export and re-upload this report every morning?”
“That’s just how we do things here.”
“But why?”
His manager shrugged. “Legacy system issue. Been that way for years.”
David pulled up the ticket history. The “legacy system issue” had been fixed eighteen months ago. They were still doing the workaround because nobody had thought to stop.
He checked another one. Then another. A pattern emerged: most of these workarounds were solving problems that no longer existed. They’d become muscle memory, passed down from person to person like a game of telephone where everyone forgot what the original message was.
“Has anyone actually tested whether we still need to do this?” David asked in a team meeting.
Silence. Then someone laughed nervously. “I mean… we could try?”
They did. One workaround at a time, David and his team tested whether the problem still existed. More often than not, it didn’t. The system had been updated. The bug had been fixed. The constraint had been removed. But the workaround had survived anyway, like a remedy for a disease that had been cured years ago.
Some workarounds, of course, were legitimate symptoms of real problems. David didn’t eliminate those. He fixed the underlying issues instead.
Four months in, David’s manager asked how he was settling into the role.
“Pretty well,” David said. “I deleted the operations manual.”
The manager’s eyes widened. “The whole thing?”
“Didn’t need it anymore. We fixed the problems instead of working around them.”
His manager stared at him. “You know how long it took to build that manual?”
“Yeah,” David said. “Which is exactly why I deleted it. If we’re spending that much time documenting workarounds, we’re spending our effort on the wrong thing.”
The Numbers Tell the Story
Documented Workarounds
- Before: 45 essential daily fixes
- After: 0 necessary workarounds
- Impact: From managing chaos to eliminating it
Time Spent on Manual Corrections
- Before: 6+ hours per day across the team
- After: 94% reduction in manual fixes
- Impact: Hours returned to actual work
Time to Transformation
- 4 months from accepting “how we do things” to questioning why we do them at all
“That’s just how we do things here.” That phrase, David learned, is usually the eulogy for a problem someone gave up on solving. He refused to attend the funeral. hours per day across the team
- After: 94% reduction in manual fixes
- Impact: Hours returned to actual work
Time to Transformation
- 4 months from accepting “how we do things” to questioning why we do them at all
“That’s just how we do things here.” That phrase, David learned, is usually the eulogy for a problem someone gave up on solving. He refused to attend the funeral.
FR 
EN