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Strategy+Business
Post-capitalism's Drop-out Prophet
Shoshana
Zuboff says organizational and individual
fulfillment can be reconciled — and she left Harvard to prove
it.
Shoshana Zuboff can pinpoint the moment when
she felt compelled to turn her back on a century of managerial capitalism.
It was April 1994. Katie Couric was interviewing the noted social
psychologist and Harvard Business School professor on the Today
Show. Seated opposite Barry Bluestone, a labor economist, Professor
Zuboff was there to discuss humanistic values in the post-industrial
corporation, and the democratizing influence of information technology.
Her credentials were impeccable. Studying the
history of work for her doctorate at Harvard in the 1970s, and later
working as an organizational change consultant, Professor Zuboff
had become fascinated by, and developed expertise in, the effects
of technology on people and processes in different types of work
environments. Consulting to a Wall Street bank, she observed clerks
accustomed to a manual assembly line for processing loans and letters
of credit adjust to using computers for the first time. At another
client, a daily newspaper, she examined the effects of computerizing
typesetting. She visited large pulp mills around the United States
to research the impact of installing IT systems to automate pulp
production. In these settings and others, she witnessed employees’
excitement and curiosity about new technology, as well their anxiety.
She chronicled how, in some places, technology robbed employees
of meaningful involvement in work processes.
In 1988, she had published her findings in the
book In the Age of the Smart Machine: The Future of Work and Power
(Basic Books), a sweeping analysis of how information technology
would transform the workplace. Smart Machine held out the promise
that progressive, “informating” organizations would
use technology to help employees become more effective and engaged,
enlisting their criticisms and insights to improve organizational
performance and the quality of life on the job. This would make
corporations more agile and creatively responsive to their customers
— ultimately making them more successful.
But that day on television, Professor Zuboff
found herself at a loss for words to make the case that “enlightened”
companies would be the force for widespread improvement in the nature
of work and output. “I suddenly had this out-of-body experience,”
she recalls. “I didn’t believe a word I was saying.”
That realization triggered an intellectual crisis
that affected both her personal and professional life. She started
to question the tenets on which she had built her career. She moved
to a farm in a remote town in Maine, and for several years commuted
to Boston to teach at Harvard. But by the late 1990s, Professor
Zuboff had virtually disappeared from the Harvard campus. She said
— publicly and controversially — that she could no longer
teach in Harvard’s MBA program because she regarded much of
its curriculum as part of the problem, not part of the solution.
“I decided I had two choices,” recalls
Professor Zuboff. “I would either have to find a new field,
or I would have to look at my field in a new way.”
She chose the latter. Her journey of disillusionment
led to The Support Economy: Why Corporations Are Failing Individuals
and the Next Episode of Capitalism (Viking Penguin, 2002), which
she cowrote with her husband, Jim Maxmin, the former CEO of Laura
Ashley, Thorn EMI Home Electronics, and Volvo U.K. The book, a strategy+business
Best Book of 2003, states that the capitalist system is currently
undergoing an “epochal” shift, facilitated by information
technology, from mass consumption to individualistic consumption.
At the heart of Professor Zuboff’s argument is a belief that
she shares with other management thought leaders: People living
in a complex and stressful world are seeking more “control
over the quality of their lives, not just the quantity of their
stuff.” A new society of individuals, she says, not only want
a consumption experience that is attuned to their individual needs,
but are seeking what Professor Zuboff calls “psychological
self-determination” — power as individuals to define
what is valuable in our lives and a part in creating it.
The trouble is that the structures and operating
models of the industrial age corporation are ill-suited in form
and function to satisfy the modern consumer’s emerging desires.
While companies promise customer focus and customization, most business
models are still based on the logic of the 20th-century industrial
enterprise: mass production at ever-lower prices. That is why, assert
Professor Zuboff and Dr. Maxmin, manufacturing and services companies
— autos, airlines, health care, and many others — struggle
to profitably satisfy the new breed of educated, self-aware, activist
consumer in greater need of self-actualization. “In the chasm
that now separates individuals and organizations lie the keys to
a new economic order with vast potential for wealth creation and
individual fulfillment,” they write.
Distributive Capitalism
Shoshana Zuboff
is not alone in trying to teach big companies to integrate the influence
of the customer (and other stakeholders) into such areas as research
and development, product design, and supply chain management. Academic
peers, such as the University of Michigan’s C.K. Prahalad
and Venkatram Ramaswamy in their book The Future of Competition:
Co-creating Unique Value with Customers (Harvard Business School
Press, 2004), similarly argue that, to unlock the new order’s
social and economic value, business must restore the consumer’s
influence in defining and creating value — influence that
was eliminated in the era of mass production and consumption.
Professor Zuboff believes, however, that none
of her peers’ ideas go far enough. Closing the chasm between
consumers and companies, she says, requires nothing less than the
creative destruction of managerial capitalism and its organizational
forms. She makes a strong case that the traditional industrial age
corporation, which historically has excluded consumers from the
value-creation process, and is programmed for mass production and
internal cost efficiencies, is incapable of becoming outwardly focused,
flexible, and responsive to individuals. “Managerial capitalism
has reached the limits of its adaptive range,” she and Dr.
Maxmin write in The Support Economy.
All told, the book lays out a vision of capitalism
— and the way it is managed — that is strikingly at
odds with the dominant 20th-century forms, in which hierarchies,
controlled from the top, created value strictly inside organizations,
lodged that value in products and services, and delivered it to
customers. In The Support Economy, Professor Zuboff and Dr. Maxmin
meticulously introduce vocabulary to describe new economic principles,
enterprise logic, organizational structures, and human roles. They
call their vision of post-managerial capitalism distributive capitalism.
Fluid networks of diverse product and service providers called federated
support networks or federations populate the distributive capitalist
system. A federation unites companies from different industries,
and they collaboratively combine digital, physical, and human assets
to create products and services with unique value for individuals.
“Federations are not defined by what they
make, what they sell, or the services they perform,” they
write. “Federations are defined by the constituencies that
select them for support and by the ways they invent to provide that
support.” For example, the book describes how a company such
as Apple Computer Inc. could lead to the Golden Apple Federation
— a support network of diverse enterprises that could include
home computer products and services or health-care and personal
finance services. The federation builds on the brand values of the
original Apple Computer (hip, slightly counterculture, youthful)
to offer services and content appealing to the kinds of people who
value imaginative design and high-tech capabilities, and strongly
relate to the bedrock Apple brand values. “The federation
makes, sources, and supplies products and services, but those activities
are secondary to, and in the context of, support relationships,”
explains Professor Zuboff.
As customer needs change, federations can reconfigure
themselves to offer new aggregations of products and services. One
way federations know their customers’ changing needs is by
deploying advocates whose role it is to provide them with deep support
— support that can significantly affect an individual’s
quality of life. All this hinges on advocates’ communication
skills and emotional intelligence, and on IT systems that quickly
and cheaply capture, organize, and distribute vast amounts of data
on individual consumers. Imagine a call center staffer who is not
only trained and empowered to respond to virtually any request or
contingency a customer might have, but who knows the caller so well
he can anticipate her needs. Professor Zuboff not only calls for
a new relationship between companies and individuals, she also recognizes
the need to reconcile the internal conflict of an employee who must
obey corporate procedures and efficiency norms, even when they conflict
with his or her own experiences and desires as a consumer.
The vision may seem farfetched, but The Support
Economy’s ideas have gained a following among people at the
forefront of understanding how businesses should operate in a knowledge
economy. In particular, the book’s critique of managerial
capitalism and the new principles it proposes has special resonance
in the information technology industry, where there are strong views
that the best place to develop world-class technology is not within
the conventional hierarchical firm.
Development of highly advanced technologies,
such as those that have sprung from the open-source software movement,
requires collaboration in the “transorganizational space that
goes across firms,” says John Maloney, a knowledge management
expert based in San Francisco who has served as a consultant to
high-technology firms, including Cisco and Hewlett-Packard. “That’s
where all innovation comes from — with customers or with suppliers.
A lot of firms don’t really understand that yet.”
George Fisher, the former CEO of Motorola and
Kodak, has sent The Support Economy to 20 business and political
leaders. “I don’t do this, typically. But it was enough
of a significant idea that I thought it would be good to shake the
mental status quo of some smart people,” says Mr. Fisher,
who got to know Professor Zuboff when she was doing research on
Motorola in the early 1990s, and whose daughter, Barcy, served as
her research assistant.
Erosion of Trust
This is not the
first time that advances in technology and changes in consumption
behavior and consumer lifestyles have altered business models and
the progression of capitalism. A century ago, proprietary companies
were caught up in rapid urbanization, which boosted demand for manufactured
consumer goods on a grand scale. The invention of the assembly line
enabled companies to meet that pent-up demand. Out of this convergence
of new consumer demand and technological innovation were born markets
unforeseen a decade earlier — new companies with new operating
principles, for example, made automobiles affordable for farmers
and shopkeepers; others made fashionable clothes for secretaries
and housewives on limited incomes.
In The Support Economy, Professor Zuboff marshals
an array of economic, social, and behavioral evidence to argue that
there is today, in one industry after another, a similar change
afoot. And just as industrialization created dislocation as well
as opportunity, today’s growing gap between consumer desires
and the ability of corporations to meet consumer needs has a downside
as well as an upside: an “epidemic” of consumer mistrust
in business that’s becoming increasingly hazardous to corporate
health. Citing an April 2003 Harris Poll, she notes that only 4
percent of Americans say they trust their HMO; 7 percent trust their
life insurance company; 12 percent trust their phone company. The
highest vote of confidence goes to supermarkets — and they
garner only a 40 percent trust rating. Consequently, consumers increasingly
are opting out of standard business models, a phenomenon that results
in staggering losses of economic opportunity for companies.
The breakdown of trust between companies and
individuals, and the gulf growing between consumer expectations
and available choices, are nowhere as stark as in the health-care
industry. Increasingly, disaffected American consumers are choosing
to self-diagnose illnesses over the Internet, to seek out alternative
treatments, to purchase drugs from Canada, and to care for ailing
relatives themselves. Professor Zuboff estimates that the loss in
economic activity from disenchanted consumers who do not have adequate
and affordable options for geriatric home care is equal to between
$196 billion and $288 billion annually.
Airlines are another vivid example she offers
of industry dysfunction. She contends cost-cutting and race-to-the-bottom
pricing leaves the consumer out of luck when he wants a few frills
at an affordable price. Although there will always be customers
who want lowest-price bare-bones services, Professor Zuboff believes
that many people would pay more or even a premium for individually
tailored integrated solutions to travel. She envisions door-to-door
transport as well as a message system that would apprise family
and business associates when a flight is delayed.
The erosion of trust and alienation of consumers
is not confined to the commercial sector. The boom in charter schools
and homeschooling — the number of children being homeschooled
has more than doubled since the 1995–1996 school year, to
more than 1.7 million — is led by parents who think they can
provide a better education than either traditional public or private
schools. In their retreat to Maine, Shoshana Zuboff and Jim Maxmin
have themselves chosen to homeschool their two children.
Professor Zuboff’s
research also suggests that even some of the most admired leaders
in the public and private sectors are failing to find permanent
fixes for their organizations’ difficulties. In the two years
following her epiphany on Today, Professor Zuboff conducted research
on eight companies in which “heroic” CEOs at progressive
companies were trying to leverage technology and distribute information
to create new organization structures, to flatten hierarchies, and
to democratize their organizations through more effective sharing
of authority and control.
“One by one, I saw each of them, over the
period of about a year, hit a wall,” she says. Among those
CEOs was her husband, Jim Maxmin, who resigned from Laura Ashley
in 1994 after he had engineered what was considered a successful
turnaround.
“Heroic leadership may work from time to
time, but it is not a systemic solution for the kinds of problems
organizations are facing today,” she says.
Alternative Lifestyle
Professor Zuboff
is adamant that both she and her husband are “too conceptual”
in their thinking to let even powerful personal events and decisions
shape their outlook on capitalism. Their ideas, she avers, flow
out of a great deal of research and empirical observation.
Still, it is hard not to connect their experiences
and history to their economic philosophy. Her maternal grandfather,
Max Miller, was an auto mechanic with an eighth-grade education
who invented the servomechanism for the vending machine and became
a successful entrepreneur. The daughter of a pharmacist and a homemaker,
Professor Zuboff spent much of her free time as a child with Mr.
Miller at his factory in Windsor, Conn., observing his mechanical
know-how and his relationships with employees. The entrepreneur,
who tooled through the factory aisles on a golf cart, knew all of
his workers and their families.
“My grandfather never saw anyone in a role
hierarchically. I shared those values with him,” says Professor
Zuboff, a slim, striking 53-year-old woman who has a mane of leonine
hair and dark eyes, and who favors deep red and hot pink lipstick.
When she wasn’t trailing her grandfather
at the Windsor factory, Professor Zuboff, a self-avowed bookworm,
devoured National Geographic magazines. As a teenager, she traveled
to Argentina, where she spent some time living on the Altiplano,
and once tended a small herd of llamas. She later returned to Latin
America, where she landed a job as an organizational change consultant
to the Venezuelan telephone company, CANTV. She spent two years
on the consulting project in Venezuela while also conducting research
for her doctoral thesis in social psychology at Harvard.
Her research in Venezuela was an important catalyst
for writing Smart Machine. She interviewed workers raised in the
rain forest who felt wrenched from their cultures to work in a modern
city and bureaucracy. She said it did enormous emotional damage.
“One man broke down and talked about how he had buried the
child of the rain forest to work in the city. It was like living
through 150 years of industrial revolution during the first half
of your life,” Professor Zuboff recalls.
In 1981, she joined the faculty at Harvard and
began to work on Smart Machine. In 1987, a year before the book’s
publication, she met Jim Maxmin when he hired her as a consultant
at Thorn EMI. In 1991 he took the helm at Laura Ashley, and the
two became a trans-Atlantic couple, with households in Boston and
London. As he commuted, she was putting in 18-hour days at Harvard,
caring for their first child, Chloe. A son, Jake, was born in 1995.
In the early 1990s, the family-controlled U.K.
specialty retailer was in the red, suffering from a combination
of overexpansion of its retail outlets and dependence on what had
become an overly complex and costly outsourced network of manufacturers.
Over the next two and a half years, Dr. Maxmin
led a series of changes, fixing problems in manufacturing and logistics
that foreshadowed principles of The Support Economy. For example,
he entered into a strategic alliance with FedEx (then Federal Express),
forming a sort of proto-federation, aimed at improving distribution
for close to 500 Laura Ashley stores. The alliance was established
as a 10-year partnership, but it was relatively open-ended, premised
on trust. The objective was to be able to supply 99 percent of Laura
Ashley’s merchandise to customers anywhere in the world within
48 hours. The alliance replaced a legacy system that would route
a T-shirt manufactured in Hong Kong to a warehouse in Newton, Wales,
before sending it to a retail store in Japan.
In 1992, Dr. Maxmin led Laura Ashley to its first
gross profits since 1989, and in fiscal 1993, gross profits were
expected to reach 12 million pounds. But in early April 1994, two
weeks before his wife’s epiphany on national television, Dr.
Maxmin abruptly resigned from Laura Ashley, citing major differences
over strategy with Sir Bernard Ashley, who was still a major shareholder.
The company was eventually broken up and sold.
That spring marked a personal and professional
turning point not just for Professor Zuboff, but for Dr. Maxmin,
too. With his departure from Laura Ashley, he was able to reflect
on the several decades he’d spent trying to turn companies
around. He had become disillusioned. It was “more than Laura
Ashley, it was the experiences at Volvo and Thorn,” he says
today. “You’d feel successful if you could just get
the business to work. But that never got you to high levels of employee
and customer satisfaction. That is a significant indicator there
was something wrong with the business model.”
With Dr. Maxmin’s departure from Laura
Ashley, the couple began to rethink their lives. Like the disaffected
individuals of their book, they decided to change the way they engaged
with the business establishment, seeking networks of deep support
for their family and pursuing new approaches to their careers. Professor
Zuboff took a year’s leave of absence from Harvard. They built
a large wood-shingled house, furnished in Laura Ashley–style
English country décor, on a 200-acre deer farm on Lake Damariscotta,
in southern Maine. The property includes guest cottages, one of
which serves as Professor Zuboff’s book-strewn study. The
house also contains a schoolroom for their children.
Homeschooling represents the family’s effort
to craft an individualized education experience — in the spirit
of the support economy — for their children. They provide
their own skills as parents, and reach for an eclectic array of
educational specialists. Most Tuesday and Thursday mornings, Professor
Zuboff works with Jake on English language skills and Spanish. Dr.
Maxmin is the geography teacher. The couple share history instruction.
They have found experts to tutor the children in other subjects,
including math, science, Latin, and music.
Messy Beginnings
In 2004, finding
signs of the support economy in business is almost as difficult
as identifying the precursors of Henry Ford’s assembly line
was for students of proprietary capitalism. It would have taken
patience and prescience to troll through steel foundries and machine
shops to see a revolution in the haphazard experiments with standardization
and time-and-motion studies conducted by the pioneers of scientific
management.
Still, one can see the support economy’s
messy beginnings in such things as convergent cross-industry alliances
(e.g., retailers and logistics companies) that focus on changing
consumer needs and the value of unique experiences for individuals.
There are also parallels in the open-source movement. Much like
a federation, the open-source community relies on a voluntary, geographically
dispersed group of software engineers, outside a formal organization,
who create software products for particular markets or applications.
The rules of open-source software development ensure that the product
is constantly improved and free to anyone who wants to use it.
Open source also inverts the conventional free-market
logic, which dictates that there is little benefit to working on
a product that’s given away. In fact, the thousands of open
source engineers garner indirect benefits from their activities,
including faster learning, reputational assets, and the ability
to influence the direction of software development, all of which
enhance their earning potential. Software engineers can also earn
fees when they help companies adapt and support highly customized
applications of the free software.
Open source has additionally led to some subtle
— and some not so subtle — changes in employment relationships,
foreshadowing perhaps the new social contract of federation advocates.
In some cases, corporations have released designers from standard
work-for-hire intellectual property agreements in order to allow
them to participate in an open-source community, according to Siobhan
O’Mahony, a Harvard Business School professor and an expert
in community-managed software and technical communities.
Another shift in employment relationships appropriate
to a federation model can be seen in outsourcing and subcontracting.
Instead of being victimized by corporate downsizing, many of today’s
freelancers and entrepreneurs have embraced the chance to opt out
of the corporate hierarchy, and they serve as examples of Professor
Zuboff’s contention that an impetus for change is the yearning
for psychological self-determination.
“What if the practice of subcontracting
and outsourcing were to expand enormously — to the point where
a network of dispersed suppliers replaced the central company altogether?”
writes MIT’s Thomas W. Malone in his book The Future of Work:
How the New Order of Business Will Shape Your Organization, Your
Management Style, and Your Life (Harvard Business School Press,
2004). “What if, in other words, many tasks currently done
by large companies were done instead by temporary combinations of
small companies and subcontractors? In an e-lance economy, the fundamental
unit is not the corporation, but the individual.” In 2003,
Professor Malone estimates that more than one-quarter of the U.S.
work force was freelancing.
Professor Zuboff points to eBay as an organizational
model that is evolving in a way that fits her vision of a company
aimed at individuated consumption. She attributes the growth of
eBay to its creation of a virtual marketplace in which buyers and
sellers can “meet their own aims.” Unlike most 20th-century
companies, which determine what customers can buy and under what
conditions, eBay “makes money when it listens to and supports
the dynamic needs of its users,” Professor Zuboff wrote in
the March 2004 issue of Fast Company, where she is a columnist.
Consider the eBay-based retail-logistics partnership between UPS
and AuctionDrop Inc., a startup company with stores, is expanding
AuctionDrop’s locations to 3,400 UPS stores around the United
States. AuctionDrop sells items on eBay for a commission (eBay also
gets a cut of the final sale price), and consumers are spared the
hassles of having to handle the auction and delivery process themselves.
Jim Maxmin tells of an entrepreneur who has developed
a “smart” medical warning system aimed at providing
the broadest definition of “life support” for elderly
people. This entrepreneur plans to assemble all the data an older
person might need in an emergency, including medical history, legal
documents, and next of kin, and embed it in a smart chip or card.
“By the time the patient gets to the emergency ward, it is
all there,” he says. “The interesting thing is not the
technology, but that the entrepreneur has taken the individual as
the unit of analysis” so all the information is simultaneously
available.
Real or Rarified?
The life of the
Maxmin–Zuboff family is in many ways emblematic of their image
of the “new individuals.” And therein lies one major
criticism of The Support Economy. Even admirers of the book feel
the authors’ vision is too rarified. “Some of the anecdotes
happened to them as a couple or as a family, and they were the source
of these ‘eureka!’ moments,” says Pulitzer Prize–winning
historian Thomas McCraw, a professor at Harvard. “But they’re
in a certain income bracket.”
Still, Professor McCraw praises Professor Zuboff
for the thorough multidisciplinary scholarship that is a hallmark
of Smart Machine and The Support Economy. “She fearlessly
took on half a dozen different disciplines — sociology, psychology,
economics, business administration, and technology. She is willing
to spend years and years closeted with these thick texts, and then
go out and talk to hundreds of people to find out what’s going
on” on the front lines of companies, he says.
However, he believes the latest book goes too
far in predicting the demise of managerial capitalism. “She
and Jim probably tried to do too much,” he says. “The
central message, the primacy of the consumer, is well done. And
there’s tremendous merit to the idea of distributed capitalism.
But to speak of the end of managerial capitalism, that’s simply
wrong. It’s the same criticism I had of Daniel Bell’s
The Coming of Post-Industrial Society.”
Other critics see her unorthodox ideas as impractical,
even utopian. F. Warren McFarlan, a retired Harvard senior associate
dean and an expert in management information systems, counts himself
a great admirer of Smart Machine, but has not read The Support Economy.
He notes that his “greatest frustration” is that Professor
Zuboff could have done more to help get reengineering right the
first time, noting that she has the knowledge of the “practical
problems” to achieve “the depth of organizational transformation
needed to make [Michael Hammer and James Champy’s] original
ideas work.”
Professor Zuboff would counter that you can’t
make inherently inwardly focused corporations adopt a customer-focused
approach to business process reengineering, which is what Hammer
and Champy originally intended.
She also strongly resists another frequent criticism,
that The Support Economy isn’t relevant for low- and middle-income
families and workers. She insists that within distributive capitalism
there will be room for many types of federations, those delivering
high levels of support that, presumably, would be more expensive,
and those where the support will be less expensive. Dr. Maxmin has
already been contacted by a not-for-profit low-income housing organization
in the U.K., with which he has discussed the possibility of establishing
a supported-living federation for low-income residents. He envisions
a quality-of-life federation that, in addition to providing low-income
housing, would provide residents with access to smoking-cessation
or drinking-cessation services and to special rates for necessities,
such as food, electricity, and transportation.
Based on the strength of her work on Smart Machine,
Professor Zuboff received tenure at Harvard (she was among the first
women to achieve tenure there) and an endowed chair. Until her retirement
in summer 2004, she was Harvard’s Charles Edward Wilson Professor
of Business Administration.
Professors McCraw and O’Mahony were the
only two faculty members contacted by strategy+business who had
read The Support Economy and were willing to speak favorably about
it. Two other faculty members, speaking off the record, were vituperative.
“She’s just impossible to work with,” said one
who, when asked whether he had read her latest book, replied: “No.
And I don’t intend to.” Another called her a “prima
donna.”
Nevertheless, the
animosity she has engendered seems tied to her decision to buck
the old-boy culture at HBS in order to take maternity leave and,
as she puts it, “take a U-turn out of the rat race.”
Her arrangement for the past several years was to be paid a part-time
salary for teaching a five-week executive education program, conducted
on and off campus, on midlife transformation and career renewal.
Characteristically, Professor Zuboff brings to the program, which
is known as “Odyssey: School for the Second Half of Life,”
intensity and a multidisciplinary perspective. The program is highly
rated, and she has a loyal following among Odyssey alumni. But she
has paid a heavy personal price for being a trailblazer. Although
she worked full time writing The Support Economy, her absence from
the campus, and unusual arrangement as a part-time professor with
tenure, clearly rankled some colleagues.
A Fresh Voice
Challenging thinkers
and controversy often go together. Indeed, the criticism Professor
Zuboff has received is not unlike that aimed at other maverick management
gurus. Jim Collins of Good to Great and Built to Last fame decamped
from academia after seven years at Stanford, to become, as he told
strategy+business in 2002, “a self-employed professor who
endowed his own chair and granted himself tenure.” W. Edwards
Deming directed the quality revolution — and his blistering
attacks on the corporate establishment — largely from the
basement of his home in Washington, D.C. He maintained no institutional
affiliations during most of his career.
For her part, Professor Zuboff is unapologetic
about her life decisions, especially her choice to stop teaching
traditional core MBA courses. “Imagine,” she muses,
“asking Galileo to teach that the sun revolves around the
earth.”
She is also firm
in her belief that she had to step away from teaching the old views
of managerial capitalism to truly be of service to her students.
“We should be rethinking every assumption behind our purpose,
message, and methods,” she wrote in The Harvard Crimson in
2003, in an article squarely aimed at up-and-coming executives.
“The time is ripe for leadership from a new generation willing
to question the worn-out answers of its fathers.” John Byrne,
editor of Fast Company, who signed Professor Zuboff on as a columnist
after the publication of The Support Economy, concurs: “The
field of management thinking and leadership is full of old, white
males…[looking] through the same old lens.” Professor
Zuboff, by contrast, is “a fresh voice,” says Mr. Byrne.
“She is one of the sharpest, most unorthodox thinkers today.”
Copyright
2004 Booz Allen Hamilton Inc.
 
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