Leadership Development: Perk or Priority
Leadership Development: Perk or Priority? by Idalene F. Kesner
May 2003 Harvard Business Review
Her alma mater had never looked better. Sunlight bounced off the gables of the old library building, the rose beds were in full bloom, and the hush of earnest academic endeavor hung over the quad. For once, though, the myriad charms of the university were wasted on Karen Barton.
She was livid. Two weeks ago, Barton, the senior vice president of human resources for Zendal Pharmaceuticals, had routinely turned in her budget request to her boss, Dave Palmer, the COO and executive VP of administration. Palmer had sent the papers back to her that morning, just as she was leaving for an appointment with the dean of her university. Barton had looked at the revisions he had made en route and was stunned to find that Palmer had cut her executive education budget by more than 75%.
As Barton recovered from the shock, she decided that it had to be a mistake. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was 11:50am. She was ten minutes early for her appointment, but Palmer would probably be on his way to his regular Monday lunch with CEO Jack Stockton and the rest of the company’s senior executives—the six-pack, as they called themselves. She figured she would leave a message on his voice mail but, to her surprise, he answered the phone himself.
“Dave, it’s Karen. I just got your revisions to my budget, and I think there’s been a mistake. The version you sent back seems to have almost nothing for executive education,” she said, with a nervous laugh.
“No mistake,” answered Palmer with the weary air of someone who had been having similar conversations all morning. “Stockton asked me to pare down next year’s budgets by 20% across all departments. Some things have to be slashed more than others. Executive education programs are—”
“Dave,” interrupted Barton, “you didn’t trim my budget. You just about demolished it.”
His response was blunt. “Listen, Karen, when you’ve been in the business
May 2003 Harvard Business Review
Her alma mater had never looked better. Sunlight bounced off the gables of the old library building, the rose beds were in full bloom, and the hush of earnest academic endeavor hung over the quad. For once, though, the myriad charms of the university were wasted on Karen Barton.
She was livid. Two weeks ago, Barton, the senior vice president of human resources for Zendal Pharmaceuticals, had routinely turned in her budget request to her boss, Dave Palmer, the COO and executive VP of administration. Palmer had sent the papers back to her that morning, just as she was leaving for an appointment with the dean of her university. Barton had looked at the revisions he had made en route and was stunned to find that Palmer had cut her executive education budget by more than 75%.
As Barton recovered from the shock, she decided that it had to be a mistake. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was 11:50am. She was ten minutes early for her appointment, but Palmer would probably be on his way to his regular Monday lunch with CEO Jack Stockton and the rest of the company’s senior executives—the six-pack, as they called themselves. She figured she would leave a message on his voice mail but, to her surprise, he answered the phone himself.
“Dave, it’s Karen. I just got your revisions to my budget, and I think there’s been a mistake. The version you sent back seems to have almost nothing for executive education,” she said, with a nervous laugh.
“No mistake,” answered Palmer with the weary air of someone who had been having similar conversations all morning. “Stockton asked me to pare down next year’s budgets by 20% across all departments. Some things have to be slashed more than others. Executive education programs are—”
“Dave,” interrupted Barton, “you didn’t trim my budget. You just about demolished it.”
His response was blunt. “Listen, Karen, when you’ve been in the business