It’s a figure that’s stuck with me for years, one of those uncomfortable truths that data sometimes throws in your face. When we look at bringing in senior leaders from outside, folks who are meant to slot into relatively significant roles, the success rate hovers around 50/50. Fifty-fifty. Think about that. You’re essentially flipping a coin on whether a key leadership hire will truly take root and flourish. Now, I’m not one for hyperbole, but those aren’t odds that inspire a great deal of confidence if you’re trying to build something for the long haul. It’s led me to think that perhaps we’re often better off acting more like patient gardeners than frantic shoppers in the talent market.
I've spent a good chunk of my life in and around software
businesses, coaching dozens of Business Units, and I've seen this play out time
and again. We’d get excited about a "star" candidate, someone with a
glittering CV from a big, recognisable name in the industry. They’d interview
like a dream, full of talk about “transformational strategies” and “leveraging
synergies.” We’d bring them in, often at considerable expense, to head up a
division or a key initiative. And then, more often than you’d like, things
would start to go sideways.
Six months, maybe a year down the line, you’d find morale
dipping. Good, solid people who understood the nuts and bolts of our particular
niche might start looking elsewhere. The promised transformation? It often
looked more like confusion. The numbers, which were meant to soar, would often
stagnate or even decline. What went wrong? More often than not, the transplant
simply didn't take to the new soil.
Our company culture, like that of many successful long-term
enterprises, is a peculiar ecosystem. It’s evolved over decades, shaped by a
philosophy of decentralisation, autonomy for our Business Unit managers, and a
relentless focus on profitable, sustainable growth in often unglamorous
vertical markets. We expect our leaders to be deeply embedded in their
businesses, to understand the customers, the quirky economics, and the people.
They need to be comfortable with a high degree of independence and accountability,
often without the vast central resources or hierarchical command structures
they might have been used to elsewhere.
The "star" from outside, for all their brilliance,
often struggled with this. They were used to a different kind of gardening –
perhaps one with richer soil, more fertiliser, or a more regimented layout.
They might try to implement the playbook that worked wonders in their last
role, only to find it sputtering here. It’s not necessarily their fault, nor
ours. It's simply that a plant evolved for one climate and soil type can't
always thrive when abruptly moved to another. Interviews, no matter how
rigorous, can only tell you so much. Past performance is a data point, not a
guarantee, especially when the underlying system changes.
Contrast this with the individuals we’ve cultivated from
within. I’m thinking of someone, let’s call her Donna. She might have joined
one of our Business Units as an analyst, or perhaps came in with a small
acquisition. She was bright, certainly, but more importantly, she was curious
and willing to learn. She asked questions. She listened. Her manager, a good
gardener themselves, spotted that potential and gave her a small patch to tend
– a project, a new responsibility. She made mistakes, of course. We all do.
That’s part of how roots grow stronger.
Over years, not months, Donna grew. She learned our
businesses from the ground up. She understood the customers not as abstract
market segments but as real people with real problems our software helped
solve. She absorbed the culture, the unwritten rules, the way we make
decisions. When the time came for her to lead a Business Unit, and later a
portfolio of them, she wasn't a transplant. She was a mature plant, perfectly
adapted to our soil, with a root system that ran deep into the organization.
She didn't need a manual on how we operate; she was how we
operate. The "long runway" we provided allowed her to reach her
potential, and in turn, she made our garden more productive.
Now, I'm a practical sort. I know that sometimes you do need
to bring in expertise from outside. If you need a specialist in a cutting-edge
technology or a very specific financial domain, and you don't have that skill
internally, then looking externally makes sense. A new plant, carefully chosen
for a specific purpose and integrated thoughtfully, can sometimes enrich the
garden.
But for core leadership, for the people who will manage our Business Units and make the critical day-to-day decisions, my strong bias is towards those who’ve grown with us. They possess an institutional knowledge that’s incredibly hard to replicate or acquire quickly. They understand the "why" behind our methods, not just the "what." This fosters a level of loyalty and deep business understanding that is, frankly, invaluable. They are also more likely to be the kind of leaders who, in turn, become good gardeners themselves, spotting and nurturing the next generation.
It’s not always the fastest approach. Cultivation takes
time, patience, and a willingness to invest in potential that may not be
immediately obvious. It's often easier to be dazzled by the "perfect"
resume from outside. But if we’re aiming for sustainable, long-term health for
the entire garden, rather than just a few showy but short-lived blooms, then
the gardener's approach to talent – nurturing from within, understanding the
soil, and providing that long runway – consistently yields the more enduring
harvest. The 50/50 coin flip with external senior hires just isn't a gamble I'm
keen on when the alternative is to patiently cultivate our own.