In a typical Tuesday meeting, Howie and I would open up, set the agenda, and propose a few new approaches. Soon, though, someone in the group would usually take over and force us to see things another way until we all could work things out and come to a final resolution. I’ve often marveled how I came in the boss, but after a few minutes allowed myself to be reduced to a mere observer, listening to the fireworks, wondering which position was really correct, and enjoying the action, waiting to see how it would all work out.

Now, in February 1997, our financial position destroyed, Tuesday afternoons became the worst part of the week. Sure, we’d try to start the meetings upbeat with some new approach, but the financial guys would start to hammer us with the realities of our eroding cash position. Each manager would then amplify this with his own consensus. Things were catastrophic, and we’d have to come up with a variety of Band-Aids to stanch the bleeding.

No one suggested the really radical surgery I was contemplating, however. Maybe this is what leadership is all about. To come to the rescue and assert yourself in times of crisis. Perhaps this is why only crisis produces history’s great leaders. In the good times, your job is to stand back and give general direction and guidance. Let the guys actually doing the job make the nitty-gritty decisions. Now was the time to be assertive. The past few months of Tuesday meetings had set the stage. The managers knew things were catastrophic. They were ready for something radical. They were ready for someone to ride up on a white horse, take charge, and break the siege. The time for listening to debate had ended. The time for getting on the white horse had come. The Tuesday management meeting that took place on February 11, 1997, would be different.

“Look,” I told them, to start things off, “I’m tired of all this negativism and pessimism. We’re running a very profitable business here.”

A profitable business? Had I lost my mind? they all wondered. But I had their attention.

“Yes, a very profitable business. You guys should get an award, not be downcast. You’re doing way better than anyone in the industry.”

Get an award? Oh, G-d, we’re really in trouble, they all thought. The boss has cracked completely. The pressure must’ve been too much. Any minute we’re going to have to call in the paddy wagons and take this guy away.

“Yes,” I continued, “the reason our business is so good is because we always thought like a small business. We never sold any service we couldn’t make a profit on, and we built capacity only to meet our customers’ needs. Remember, not that long ago, we were financing our growth just out of operations and still making a profit? Our competitors, on the other hand, are the ones in real trouble. They’re engaged in an ‘if you build it, they will come’ type of mentality. They’ve built networks they’ll never fill and need to sign up more clients than they can ever manage. Look, every one of our competitors is losing five times what we do. Sure, we got nuts with the public money and everything, but all we have to do is cut back to our original plan and we’ll be generating cash.”