I have a knack for breaking down complex business challenges, but where does that come from?

The workshop

During my childhood, my Dad had a workshop that he spent a lot of his spare time in. It was a magical place with various machines, workbenches, tools, and boxes of fastenings all organised by type, material, and size.  

Even when he wasn’t in his workshop, a piece of it was always with him. Despite constantly scrubbing his hands with Swarfega, he never had completely clean hands; there were always smudges of grease ingrained around his nails. Most of the time, he would also have a pencil behind his ear, sharpened at both ends— a legacy from his time in the army serving as a signalman. This ensured that he could continue receiving Morse code without interruptions, as he could simply flip the pencil over to resume work if the lead broke.

I spent many hours as his “apprentice.”  

Putting things in vices, measuring, cutting, and drilling. To this day, I am not sure if any of my jobs were necessary or whether he just wanted me to feel involved, but in reality, it didn’t matter to me; I just enjoyed the act itself without worrying about why. Maybe this was my first experience of being present and just living in the moment that I often chase today.

My Dad loved to create, but he grew up through the Second World War and the ‘make do and mend’ mentality, so his real passion was to repair things. Whether it was electrical, mechanical, or an inanimate object like a chair, if it was broken, his eyes would light up as he disappeared off to work his magic on it.  

There wasn’t anything that stumped him.  

Learning to take things apart

He actually preferred it if he didn’t know how something worked. He thrived on taking it apart, working out how the mechanics worked, cleaning and repairing it, and then putting it back together again. If there was a piece missing or broken beyond repair, he would simply make a replacement, or if he felt the object was over-engineered, he would find a way to make it work without the missing/broken part. He was so proficient that when he had finished repairing something it often worked better than when it was new.

I watched him repair the tiny movement in a wristwatch through to changing the vast engine in his car and everything in between. Whatever it was, though, his way of looking at a problem that needed fixing fascinated me. His innate need to understand how something works, to pull it apart (literally), and then to find a way to rebuild it better than it had ever been.

I have not taken after him in the same way.  

I am not averse to manual work, but it is not something that energises me, so I do not have a workshop. However, my Dad did leave his legacy with me.

Applying Engineering Thinking to Business

I love puzzles, crosswords, escape rooms, business problems, and mazes. When I watch a whodunnit with my wife, I think she is impressed and mildly annoyed in equal measure when halfway through I reveal my theory on who committed the crime along with why and how they did it. I am not always right but am more often than not.

I wrote earlier that I don’t have a workshop, but I do in a way, it is my office. My desk is my workbench and my computer and phone are my tools. 

I have developed my Dad’s insatiable appetite to need to understand how something works, pull it apart, and then find a way to rebuild it better than it has ever been. It reveals itself in everything I do and has shaped my career, allowing me to apply those same skills without the need to scrub my hands constantly throughout the day.

Thank you Dad!

Ray

The Sales Doctor

Consult | Assess | Recommend | Execute

Post by Ray King, 26th September 2024