Why I left Kiah, and other answers

It has been almost three months since I cleaned out my office at Kiah. I am often asked if I have really left or is it a façade and am I still pulling the strings, and if I have left, why?

In short, I have left Kiah and am no longer involved in its operations and direction. I do provide advice, having some experience, and I deliver some consulting and training support for continuity because I know stuff. I am funding the transition to minority or zero ownership. Leaving completely takes time, but I am not pulling the strings. My interest is in others being successful. They have to lead the next journey, not me.

Why did I leave? Simply, I didn’t want to run Kiah anymore. Understanding the why means understanding my journey.

My working life began with nearly 25 years in the Army. I loved the military, still do. Soldiers, sailors, and aviators are the most courageous people I have ever met. Consider going outside the wire, doing your duty despite having lost a colleague the day before. They do whatever is asked of them, with whatever they have been given. Absolute trust in each other and believing that their leaders have their back. Those of us who have led them, owe them.

I joined industry because my time in the Army had come to a natural conclusion. I wanted a new adventure. I worked for companies big and small, national, and multinational. I never really enjoyed the work for it lacked a purpose with which I identified. Selling more servers, a bigger bottom line, was not enough though I did learn a lot. Eventually I found myself without a job. I hung up a shingle, “John Glenn, important person in his spare bedroom.” I just wanted to do good work, well, and make enough money that my family was safe in retirement.

The work was challenging, often characterised by being urgent, outside the norm, and commercial like. It turns out that I am very good at getting things done, fixing projects and contracts that weren’t working, dealing with disputes sustainably, breaking through the morass of process and traditions that characterise bureaucracies. In my view, rules are never to be broken but they could always be changed and mostly the sacred “rules” turned out to be someone’s interpretation anyway. My secret sauce was bringing commercial acumen with a dose of impatience.

The work grew into more than I could do myself. A company grew, working across Defence and the broader public sector. I loved the work, making a difference, helping deliver better public sector outcomes. Fixing things that don’t work. Uplifting the people who I worked alongside.

The last few years have been hard. At best, behaviours within the public sector have been uncaring, at worst inappropriate, using power in a way that verges on bullying. It was tiring, bruising, unnecessary. Disappointing.

Kiah has been moderately successful. My family will be safe in retirement, though not so safe that I don’t have to think about money. I could continue but frankly I don’t have the energy, or interest, to battle that behaviour.

I could have sold Kiah but not many people are buying “government focused consultancies” at the moment. Closing it down was an option but seemed a waste of opportunity. Finding a way to “give it” to someone who would take an opportunity and run with it appealed. .

I reached out to Davina Mansfield, who had worked with me 9 years ago. She had moved on, gaining experience elsewhere included finishing her MBA, and undertaking a program at Harvard Business School. To be fair to her previous employer, he funded the course, so kudos where it’s deserved. She is also active in the veteran community, brought up two young men, and a bunch of other things that she can explain if she chooses.

In her earlier time at Kiah she, along with a colleague, went well beyond expectations to help my ageing parents when I was travelling, and at times just because it needed to be done. She didn’t ask for recognition; she just did what was needed. Kind and generous. “Giving” her the opportunity to run with Kiah seemed nice pay back.

It’s not exactly a “give” but she has runway to be successful and the freedom to choose a new path. My interest is in her being successful, not replicating the Kiah I built. While I do offer some thoughts and advice, it is Davina’s Kiah to take where she, and her new team, wish.

I have reverted to “gun for hire,” a single shingle expert,  www.johnglenn.com.au. How that unfolds is still to be seen. Retirement, as most would see it, isn’t really on my horizon. I can’t sit still long enough to watch a movie, and I am uncomfortable focussing too much on “self”. I lean to the stoics’ view that if you have the ability to serve you have the obligation to do so. However, fifteen-hour days, eight days a week aren’t in my future either unless of course it’s really exciting, valuable work. Never say never.

I doubt, however, that I shall fade quietly into the night.

The public sector needs a contest of ideas, to be challenged. It has demonstrably lost its way and is working to find a new path to better serve the public to whom they owe their duty. Some of that includes thinking about delivery in better ways. Outcomes matter, and there are insights from industry that they should adopt. In my mind, more quickly than they are.

In particular we need to rebuild Defence. The choices on strategy, of what plane, submarine, ship, or other capability needs to be procured, I will leave to others. It does seem urgent. Strategy, however, means little if it can’t be executed well, and execution is Defence’s Achilles’ heel.

Only two people matter in Defence: those who throw the bombs and those who make them. We need to fix that link, in ways that the Defence of today cannot contemplate. We owe it to the soldiers, sailors and aviators who give their all, and the public to whom Defence owes its duty.

So, without Kiah, I return to where I started.