Best of Intentions

1. Should Cynthia offer the job to Steve? Why or why not? What should Cynthia do to help her decide one way or another?
2. If you were Steve, would you take the job if it were offered to you? Why or why not? What should Steve do to help him decide, one way or the other?
3. If Steve is offered and accepts the job, what do all parties (Cynthia, Peter/AgFund, and Steve) need to do to ensure that his hire is a successful one?

Best of Intentions

Cynthia Mitchell just stared at her boss, Peter Jones. She admired him a great deal, but she couldn't believe what she had just heard. "Let me get this straight," she said. "I shouldn't give Steve Ripley this assignment, even though he's the most qualified candidate, because the clients won't let him succeed? "It's your decision-and Steve's if you decide to offer him the job. But I think it would bea big mistake," Peter replied. "Because he's black," Cynthia prompted." And because we're automatically assuming that the mostly white farmers in this district won't trust their books to a black professional? "Peter flushed. "We don't assume it. We know it. Just ask Betty Inez and Hugh Conley. They were every bit as good as Ripley. But we-okay, I was blind to the unpleasant reality that plenty of discrimination still exists out there, like it or not. Because of my ignorance, they both failed miserably in districts that looked a lot like this one. It wasn't their fault, but their careers with AgFunds got derailed anyway. I want to give Steve a fighting chance, and I want AgFunds to have a better record developing minority managers. "Cynthia sighed. "This feels all wrong to me, Peter, but I know you wouldn't raise the issue if it didn't have any substance. Let me think about it.

"Personal Experience And think about it she did. Cynthia had flownto Houston earlier in the week for AgFunds' re-gional district managers meeting and had been enjoying getting to know her colleagues over dinners at a variety of excellent restaurants-a welcome relief from her rural Arkansas district, where the culinary choices ran the gamut from barbecue to, well, barbecue. She was new at her job, and the other district managers-all white men-had made her feel welcome and offered her survival tips.

Tonight, though, she stayed put at her hotel. First she worked out in the gym, then she or-dered a Caesar salad and a beer from room ser-vice. While she waited for the food, she took a quick shower. When she finally settled down to her meal, she found she didn't have any ap-petite. The situation with Steve Ripley was making her really tense. It brought up bad memories. She sat back, sipped her beer, andremembered how her own career at AgFundshad started.It wasn't so long ago. A Minnesota nativewith an undergraduate degree from Purdue, Cynthia had earned an MBA from the Uni-versity of Kansas. She wanted to stay in the Midwest, and she wanted to work with the agricultural community. She had originally planned to pursue a career with the Chicago Board of Trade, but the opportunities there hadn't seemed promising. AgFunds-a finan-cial services company specializing in invest-ments and accounting services for farmersand farmer-owned cooperatives-had pur-sued her aggressively. She had joined thefirm as an investment trainee in the Chicagooffice after graduation, just four years ago.Her first year wasn't that different from being in school; she spent most of her timestudying for the exams she had to take to be-come a fully licensed representative. Shethrived in the competitive training environ-ment and was considered the top graduate inher class.The best trainees that year were all vyingfor a position in northern Indiana. MikeGraves,a highly successfulinvestment rep, wasbeing promoted to district manager. Within six years, Mike had turned a declining stream ofclients in Indiana into one of the company'slargest and most coveted portfolios. Cynthiawanted the job badly and was sure she had agood shot at it. Her interview with Mike went well, or so she thought. She was half planningthe move to Indiana when she received an e-mail announcing that the job had gone to herfellow trainee Bill Hawkins. She was genuinelysurprised. Bill was a great guy, but his creden-tials didn't measure up to hers. In fact, she'dspent a lot of time tutoring him after he failedan early licensing test.When she ran into Mike shortly thereafter,she congratulated him on his promotion. Heseemed self-conscious, and before long hestumbled into an explanation for why sheThe Best of Intentions. HBR CASESTUDYhadn't been picked for the plum job: "Eventu-ally you'll be a better rep than Bill. I know it,and you know it. But this just wasn't the rightterritory for you. It's very conservative. Ourcustomers wouldn't be comfortable doing busi-ness with a woman. One day you'll thank mefor not putting you into a situation whereyou'd fail."Thank him? Cynthia had felt more likestrangling him. But, like a good sport, she of-fered him some politically correct conciliatorystatements-"I'm sure you made the rightchoice; you know the territory," and so forth-and kept looking. A month later, she landed aless appealing but perfectly adequate salesrep's position in a northern Ohio district. Pre-sumably, the district was more hospitable towomen, though she'd had to prove herself toplenty of crusty male customers. Cynthia haddone extremely well in the three years shespent there-well enough to be considered arising star at AgFunds. So she wasn't surprisedwhen Peter, the Houston-based regional vicepresident who oversaw eight southern districtsin Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi,New Mex-ico, and Texas,recruited her to run the Arkan-sas district. The new position was a stretch;reps didn't usually get promoted this quickly,but she felt ready for the challenge.And it definitely was a challenge. Arkansaswas once a great district, but it had been losingcustomers for 15 years, thanks to a 25-yearvet-eran who had gotten more and more comfort-able in coasting mode. Peter had finallypushed the guy into early retirement andbrought Cynthia in to shake things up. Thesales force wasn't that bad; it had just beenpoorly managed. But Cynthia desperatelyneeded at least one powerhouse rep. Privately,she admitted to herself that what she reallyneeded was a clone of herself four years ago--somebody fresh out of school who was tal-ented, ambitious, and extremely hungry.She considered recruiting the second-bestrep from her old region (he happened to be agood friend), but she wanted to look first atthe recent crop of eager trainees. She was in-trigued to discoverthat Steve Ripley,this year'stop trainee, was inexplicably available threemonths after the training period had ended.He looked great on paper: a recent MBAfromUCLA,a successful summer internship at Ag-Funds, a stint overseas as an economic analystfor the U.S. government. So why he was still available? Poor interpersonal skills, perhaps?When she met Steve, Cynthia discovered thatthis was far from true. He was personable,quick-witted,bright, an excellent conversation-alist. He was also a black man in a companywhose workforce was overwhelminglywhite.She had interviewed Steve just this week,while she was in Houston for the off-site,andshe had ended the meeting wondering, verysimply, how she'd gotten so lucky and whenhe could start. Within a few hours, though, hercuriosity about why he was still available hadresurfaced. When she asked a few discreetquestions, her fellow district managers in Ar-kansas were evasive; they seemed uncomfort-able. The longest-tenured of them finally told her that Steve wasn't necessarily a great fit insome parts of their region and suggested that she discuss the situation with Peter before shemade an offer.

Set Up to Fail?

Cynthia shifted uncomfortably in her hotelroom chair. She poked at her salad with dis-taste then scraped at the label on her half-empty Saint Arnold beer as she replayed thismorning's meeting with Peter in her mind.It hadn't gone well."We need to talk about Steve Ripley," shehad started. "He's a remarkable candidate.Why wouldn't I hire him if I could get him?""Your predecessor didn't think he was agood fit," Peter had said gently. "I have to tellyou I think he was right. And it's not becauseI'm a bigot. I can see you're wondering aboutthat. Steve's fantastic. He's one of the besttrainees we've had through here in years. Butthe biggest customers in your district don'twant to work with a black guy. It's as simple asthat.""So if some big customers are discrimina-tory, we'll let them dictate our hiring policy?"Cynthia had challenged.Peter had winced at her remark. "Look,Steve's going to be outstanding. He just de-serves to start out in a more hospitable dis-trict. Once the right opportunity opens up,he'll be hired, and he'll do brilliantly."Cynthia, remembering the job she'd lostout on in Indiana, then countered by saying,"So Steve has far fewer opportunities opento him than other, less-qualified applicantsdo.""I know it doesn't sound fair, and in oneThe Best of Intentions. H BR CASESTUDYsense it isn't," Peter had said. "But if Steve failsin his first assignment, it becomes extremelydifficult to promote him-we'll be accused offavoritism or the very worst form of affirma-tive action. And let's not forget we have some obligation to maximize profits. I can almost guarantee you that won't happen in your dis-trict if you hire Steve. If our customers won't buy from Steve, it hurts the shareholders, it hurts Steve, it hurts you. Okay? How is that a good thing?"

Cards on the Table

Cynthia didn't sleep well that night. She tossed around, half awake, half asleep, agoniz-ing about what her next step should be. Could she hire Steve against the explicit advice of her new boss? What would it mean for her career if Peter turned out to be right, and Steve didn't work out? Undoubtedly the easiest course would be to keep looking, perhaps to hire her colleague from Ohio, who was, after all, a proven quantity. But that didn't feel right. During one of those 3am moments of ap-parent clarity that so often come to insomni-acs, Cynthia decided to lay things on the line with Steve. At 8 am, she called his house and asked if they could meet for lunch. He agreed." Look, what I'm about to tell you is sensi-tive," she said four hours later as she faced Steve over glasses of bubbly water at the DailyReview Cafe. "So, I'm taking a chance. But I'm sure you sense a lot of what I'm going to say, so let's just talk about it openly. ""Sure, what's up?" He looked both quizzicaland slightly disappointed. "Oh Lord, he expected an offer," she thought to herself Cynthia took a deep breath and started by telling him the story of how she lost the job in northern Indiana to a less qualified candidate and how much that had bothered her. She filled him in on the conversation with Peter the day before. By the time she'd finished, he was leaning back in his chair, sipping his water, eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure what to say, "he offered after a pause."No need to say anything yet. The thing is, "she continued, "this is a company where women and minorities can get ahead. I know that from personal experience. And I walked in knowing I had to work harder and perform better than other candidates. I'm sure you did oo. But the folks in senior positions some-times decide what's best for candidates with-out consulting them. I know I resented that a lot when it happened to me. I don't want to continue that pattern. I'm not ready to offer you the job, but I do want you to know what's being talked about, and I'm curious to know what your response is. "Cynthia half expected Steve to start selling himself again, as he had during their initial interview-to ask for the chance to prove himself, even if it was a tough territory. But his response was more tempered than that." As long as we're being open with each other, I have to say I'm not sure. I'd like to stay in this part of the country for a few years, for personal reasons, but I don't want to take a job that sets me up for failure. There are other districts in this region where blacks have done well. "The Best of Intentions. HBR CASESTUDYCynthia was feeling deflated. "So-so you want to withdraw from being considered?""I didn't say that. I guess I want to be sure that if you offer me the job, I won't be walking into a disaster. I don't mind long odds, but I don't want impossible odds," he responded. Sensing her confusion, Steve smiled quickly, his considerable charm in evidence. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm just lobbing the ball back into your court, Cynthia. But from what you've told me about your own experience, I trust you to make the right call. I really do."