As the economy falters, one can almost hear corporate coffers slamming shut, and a quick scan of the business media provides myriad accounts of cost cutting measures ranging from layoffs to travel clampdowns. Indeed, common "wisdom" would advocate wantonly eyeing every penny that moves out the door, questioning the expense and wondering how it can be reduced or eliminated. One almost gets a sense that a switch has been flicked, as companies go from seeking value at any expense, to a mantra of penny pinching above all else.
 
What is striking is that this need not be a binary equation; cost cutting does not always have to come at the expense of delivering value, and vice versa. In fact, regarding these as two contrary and mutually exclusive tactics can be ineffective at best, and downright deadly at worst.
 
The business school case studies hold up companies that have managed to deliver value in a cost effective manner. As an example, several of the major US airlines have increasingly subjected customers to frequent fees, an abundance of rules and ornery employees. A new generation of lower cost competitors have fielded newer, more efficient planes with onboard entertainment yet have simultaneously reduced their costs while delivering a more compelling product to the customer. Closer to home, most banks now offer electronic statements and bill payment options, reducing their costs while also offering the ultimate value to their customers: increased convenience.
 
With per-employee productivity at record highs, most industries have little room to trim staff, and nearly every company large and small has picked the low-lying fruit off the cost cutting tree years ago. Rather than inanities like forced duplex printing and requiring CEO approval on all paper clip orders, look for high value, low cost activities. While your competitors scrimp and scrape to save a penny, they may miss opportunities to spend that penny to generate a dollar, a wise choice regardless of economic conditions.

Despite (and largely due to) the turmoil rocking the world's financial markets, an entirely new industry is making strides in the marketplace: doom and gloom. From when we wake up in the morning, turning on the radio to hear about the latest disaster in some foreign financial market that faltered while we slept, to the evening when breathless talking heads regale us with tales of woe, doom and gloom is becoming a nearly ubiquitous product.
 
Someone wiser than I once said that disasters sell newspapers, and times like these are no exception. While economic hardship is very real on many fronts, media outlets package tales of woe to keep viewers locked, and politicians exploit hardship to advance their agendas.
 
While economic fundamentals may be on shaky ground across industries, geographies and in our own investment portfolios, more critical fundamentals remain strong. I risk sounding preachy, but our friends, families and communities are all filled with the same souls that were there in better economic times, and despite some missing basis points in their portfolios, they are the same people who we have worked and lived with, and likely an even greater source of strength and compassion in trying times. Through thin and flush, opportunities continue to exist. Despite the growing prevalence of Doom and Gloom, Inc., we do ourselves a disservice by running up the flag of surrender before even setting foot on the battlefield.
 
Shut off the television newscast, or close the newspaper briefly and look at the wonders and opportunity that still surround us. While doom and gloom are in strong supply, we still have the power to choose not to spend our intellectual capital consuming them to the point of soul-battering gluttony.

Like many a great consulting buzzword, the term "best practices" started life as a noble concept, only to end up a hackneyed term applied to irrelevant situations by many peddlers of the corporate equivalent of snake oil. The concept is innocuous enough: find the best way of doing something, identify and examine it, and apply it elsewhere. While straightforward, one cannot help but wonder if anyone ever seeks good enough practices, or in haste or thrift opts for the presumably less taxing worst practices.
 
Where best practices become dangerous is when they are seen as static objects, that can be packaged, sold and applied wholesale in a "one size fits all" model. Anyone offering a "universal" solution to a problem, be it clothing, politics or business practices, is either selling the lowest common denominator or something proven by safety and longevity that is the opposite of what many situations calling for dramatic action need. While examining and promulgating internal excellence is a fine idea, expecting to pull a "best practice" from some library and find it timely, relevant and appropriate is a shot in the dark.
 
At the end of the day, what makes most companies unique is their practices, whether those practices are hiring a certain caliber of people, creating unique products, some other combination of thousands of possibilities. Entrusting anything beyond the most rudimentary practices to a "one size fits all" approach will likely have the same result as trying to fit a one size fits all hat upon my somewhat large head: a headache.

Attempting to restore some level of fitness to my life, I started running several months ago. Recently, I have been on the road more frequently for client work, and have attempted to maintain my running schedule in a "foreign" city.
 
Last week had me in Houston, a city I associate with heat, cowboys and excellent Tex-Mex food, perhaps due to watching a few too many Western movies as a child. With this impression, I packed my running shorts and shoes, and selected a highly-ventilated sleeveless running shirt, envisioning myself sweltering under a hot Texas sun, perhaps even dodging some banditos or wagon trains. When I arrived in Houston, I was greeted with unseasonably cold weather, the thermometer dipping within a hair of the freezing mark at night.
 
Locating a running store in the area, I paid the price for my cavalier assumptions about the weather, stocking up on long-sleeve shirts and insulated hats, also getting some tips on where to run near my hotel. The clerk suggested a park with what he described as a nicely graded 3 mile loop dedicated to runners.
 
A few hours later I found myself plodding along, bewildered in the park the store had suggested. Mountain bikes blazed by me as I passed multi-colored arrows pointing in every imaginable direction, each curve looking like the next and presenting swooping hills and sharp drop offs. As the sun began to wane, I finally encountered some walkers, and asked in between breaths how to get back to some semblance of civilization. They provided some guidance and several miles later I was back at my hotel.
 
Speaking with some client staff the following day, I mentioned my evening exploration, and disappointment with the park and the opportunities for potential collisions with speeding mountain bikers. The person informed me that I had entered the wrong park, and had spent the evening in a designated mountain biking area, where races and other events were frequently held. While considering the fact that I was likely the culpable party to any potential collisions, and my mistake should have been rather self-evident, the gracious person showed me a map with the running section of the park for future reference.