In 1974, two management trainers asked readers of the Harvard Business Review to imagine a manager walking down a hall.
One of his staff, Jones, stops him. “Good morning. By the way, we’ve got a problem. You see…” The manager knows enough to get involved, not enough to decide on the spot. So he answers the way a considerate boss would: “So glad you brought this up. I’m in a rush right now. Meanwhile, let me think about it, and I’ll let you know.”
William Oncken Jr. and Donald Wass then asked where the “monkey” was. Before the meeting, on the subordinate’s back. After it, on the manager’s. He had accepted a responsibility and promised a progress report, which is what subordinates do for bosses. Soon Jones would look in and ask cheerily, “How’s it coming?” The authors’ gloss: “(This is called supervision.)”
They ran through other everyday lines that do the same thing. “Send me a memo on that.”“Just let me know how I can help.”“I will draw up an initial draft for discussion with you.” Sooner or later, each one ends with the next move on the boss.
Then they did the arithmetic. Four subordinates, three monkeys each a day: 60 by the end of a five-day week. Late on Friday afternoon the manager sits behind a closed door. His staff wait outside, and the authors imagine them grumbling that he just can’t make up his mind. He goes home resolved to come back on Saturday and catch up. Early on Saturday he looks out of his office window at the golf course across from it. On the nearest green is a foursome.
“Guess who?”
The authors’ manager sees that if he catches up, his staff will only send more. So he goes home to his family, and on Monday he calls his people in one by one, puts each monkey on the desk, and works out with them how the next move can be theirs. Where none is clear yet, the monkey spends the night on the subordinate’s back, and they meet again the next day. Each problem leaves with an agreed degree of initiative and a time for the next check-in. The first two degrees, waiting to be told and asking what to do, are outlawed. “I cannot help a person who hasn’t got a problem,” he tells them at those next-day meetings.
By the 1999 reissue, the article was one of HBR’s two best-selling reprints ever. In a commentary, Stephen Covey recalled seeing Oncken walk through airports with a stuffed monkey on his shoulder. Covey also warned that handing a problem back only works if people have the desire and the ability to solve it, and that people afraid of failing in front of their boss will keep coming back for help.
The next day, at about 11 in the morning, the manager realizes he no longer needs to keep his door closed.