I've been reading the excellent book Product Strategy for High Technology Companies in between my Hemingway and recreational reading, and was struck by one of the author's assertions. While talking about product strategy, the author mentions that a vision for a product strategy should answer three questions (paraphrasing): Where do we want to go, How do we get there, and Why are we uniquely positioned to do so?

The first two are fairly standard for any planning exercise, and I often begin a new project or client relationship by determining what the ideal end state looks like, as well as what steps, tools, and people need to be harnessed to achieve that end state. The element I've often missed, and seen ignored by many companies, is the third: why are we uniquely positioned to get there-a question that asks, in essence: why me?

This question prompts some interesting introspection and a higher level of planning than diving directly from "where do we go" to "how do we get there." For example, if we're not uniquely positioned to achieve a particular end state, we might consider building or buying some unique element, or abandon what was an otherwise noble goal and proper plan. Recently I've heard several companies claim they want to be "The Apple of..."-implying that they would deliver the innovation and success of the technology giant. While a nice goal, these companies simply don't have a chance of achieving this end state. Similarly, I could claim I want to be the next Tiger Woods and develop a detailed practice schedule, hire the best golf coaches, and dedicate every waking hour to emulating his training regime. The obvious failing of that careful plan is that I am not Tiger (perhaps to my wife's elation), and therefore not uniquely positioned to be a golfer of his caliber.

Next time your team or company lays out a grand vision of where it wants to go, pause for a moment and consider whether you're uniquely positioned to achieve that objective before diving into planning. The answer is usually readily visible, and the answer will determine whether you achieve a difficult but well-executed goal or spend time and money chasing a pipedream.

Much to the delight of the U.S. press, a presidential candidate's PR man made a recent gaffe, saying that after the primary season, when a political party whittles its selection of nominees down to a single person, his candidate could essentially change his policies like an Etch a Sketch, the magnetic drawing toy on which one could literally "wipe the slate clean" with a few shakes. The media and his political rivals howled that the candidate was willing to compromise and change his views to suit political expediency rather than sticking by principle.

I don't claim any special knowledge on how a candidate for office should balance sticking with principle to evolving with subtle changes in the issues and electorate but, interestingly, find many of us are presented with "Etch a Sketch moments" that we could more effectively leverage. Whether it's receiving a promotion, starting a new job, or embarking on a personal change like a new fitness regime or relationship, these big changes present an opportunity to wipe the slate clean, often for the better when done effectively.

In consulting, this is particularly easy. Every few months present a new company, set of challenges, and group of people, so I've tried to become adept at adopting lessons learned from past engagements and presenting myself appropriately for the engagement at hand. While most of the readers of this newsletter are not consultants, most modern jobs present similar opportunities. Rarely does someone work with the same people, performing the same role, for an entire career, even if they remain with the same company. With IT's focus on project-based work, each project team is an opportunity to present yourself differently, or experiment with everything from a new management style to peer interactions.

I've noticed an interesting phenomenon in that many outdoor-related recreational companies have exceptional customer service. While the products of the "expedition quality" manufacturers are certainly not inexpensive, I've had everything from decades of wear from a parka, to a brand-new replacement backpack when my dog chewed through a strap, with the company simply enclosing a note saying not to be mad at the dog, and they hoped to keep him "out of the doghouse." My two favorite retailers of these types of products have accepted returns months after purchase, with the product clearly having been used, merely because it didn't meet my standards.

I've often wondered whether employees in this industry spend a great deal of time outdoors, and are therefore happier, or if these are essentially luxury products targeted toward people with a discretionary income, but I struggle to recall a bad experience with a North Face or similar company, or a retailer like REI or EMS. It universally seems that these companies place their reputation for quality and customer service above all else.

While much talk of "corporate values" and the similar is hot air, deep care and customer service do originate from the top down. When you look at everything from the branding to the annual reports of these outdoor companies, there's a deep and nearly fanatical obsession with product performance and customer satisfaction. While new gloves or a tent might be seen as a commodity, I'll go out of my way to purchase certain brands from a preferred retailer due to past experience.

These changes seem possible in even the most unlikely industries. My usual airline went through a period of horrific customer service that coincided with strategic listlessness and very public employee relations squabbles. In the past year, however, there's been a palatable change in everyone from front-line flight attendants to captains thanking passengers over the PA. In the past, there were the diamonds in the rough and the bad apples, the result of what happens when management sends out a flowery memo and leaves employees to their own devices, but now there appears to be a concerted effort to improve service at the front lines.

Whether you're making products to scale Mt. Everest, or flying over it, if you wish to provide exceptional or even "good enough" customer service it will take more than a memo or two.

Several months before his second birthday, my son began to speak and hasn't stopped since. As one would expect, he mispronounces a fair number of words, and many of the nuances of his speech are rather endearing.

We recently made a temporary move to New Hampshire while building a new home in South Carolina, and our house in NH is one of several well-spaced homes on a sparsely populated ridge. Our dog Coltrane appreciates the opportunity to explore around the house, and his evening jaunts often extend into 30-minute romps.

Our son likes to call the dog after he's been out for a while, and on a crisp and otherwise quiet evening you'll often hear him leaning out the door shouting what sounds like "COCAINE! COCAINE, COME!"