How We Lost the Donuts But Gained the Internet
New capabilities have shaped our culture in profound ways
Author’s note: Are you old enough to remember life before the Internet? I am. I was working at Hewlett-Packard, and this is my story of how we lost the donuts.
It’s Friday morning, 9 AM, and we’re standing around in jeans because it’s Friday’s “dress casual” code. We are picking our donuts and grabbing a coffee.
Why?
The year is 1988, and we are informally sharing the week’s news at Hewlett-Packard (HP). That’s where I work, and every Friday, we look forward to hearing anything noteworthy and even not-noteworthy about our company. It’s a wonderful time of connection.
After the designated person leads with the business updates, the floor is open for anyone to share other news. Someone always does. We clap, laugh, or give an acknowledgment of appreciation.
As the group disbands, some people linger a little longer to catch up on the personal front. We’re in a good mood, and it’s not a “sugar high” because of the donut — or two — we might have eaten.
It’s also true that we’re in an era where we (mostly) don’t count calories or sugar grams or double down on healthy living. We’re just living, and it feels very real and unforced. The vibe is easy.
When I joined HP in 1987, one of the first moments I can clearly remember was being introduced during Friday’s circle time. Afterward, people came up to me to shake my hand, wish me luck, and tell me where they sat in case I had any questions.
People were focused on their work, but they were equally focused on sustaining the company’s culture, called the “HP Way.”
The HP way defined healthy behavioral norms, and its architects were the company’s founders, Bill Hewlett and Dave Packard. As explained to me when I first arrived, HP employees — from the top of the rung to those lower down— believed everyone wanted to do their job and do it well. Managers understood their role was to facilitate on behalf of the team. They knocked down barriers, found the resources, and championed the project throughout HP land.
Respect, trust, empowerment, discovery, and positivity were the hallmarks of the HP Way, and it worked beautifully.
That the door was always figuratively open — no matter who you were and what door you knocked on — became evident to me early on. One year into the job, I learned that Dave Packard was coming to our site to take one of his famous “walk-throughs,” where he would talk to random people in the trenches. To some HP managers’ chagrin, there would be no script for the day, though most applauded Mr. Packard’s technique.
Mr. Packard’s curiosity would guide him as he made his way through manufacturing lines, sales and marketing teams, and the like. He believed that ordinary, hard-working people would be his best source of information. Gone were the fancy PowerPoint presentations highlighting business accomplishments.
My big disappointment, though, was that Mr. Packard would be arriving on Rosh Hashanah, the holiday celebrating the Jewish New Year. I would be at synagogue and unable to experience the visit.
Because self-empowerment was preached in the HP culture, I took it seriously and emailed Dean Morton, Chief Operating Officer (COO), to inform him of this calendar mistake. Morton would later become the CEO of HP.
Within 24 hours, I received a response back from Dean (how he signed his email), apologizing that while he couldn’t change the visit at this late date, he promised it would never happen again. He thanked me for telling him. While I still couldn’t attend, at least I felt heard.
That was, then, at a time when technology was very different. My email to Mr. Morton was sent on HP’s intranet.
A year later, when I returned from maternity leave, I asked if I could work one day a week from home. Remote online access was still in its infancy, and that, combined with the company’s stated policy that professionals must work full-time on-site, made my request very big. After much internal discussion, HP decided to try a 6-month pilot with no guarantees, done on the down low.
Accessing HP’s intranet from home was awkward at best. I had a 12-digit number that I would have to dial within one minute, and if I got it right, I could download my emails. If I was too slow or got one of the twelve numbers wrong, I would need to call IT and ask them to reset the system so I could have another try. This was not an infrequent occurrence.
In 1990, remote access to a business’s computer system felt tantamount to traveling to the moon. It was precarious at best, but fortunately, high-speed Internet was around the corner, helping to remake the landscape.
Technology would become a blessing, but it would take a while, and proceeding down that path would also result in some cultural casualties.
The Internet became a reality at HP in 1994, and amidst its many benefits, it did confer some casualties. A few that I found particularly irksome included:
Loss of Friday morning round-up: Over time, the weekly donuts and coffee gathering became sporadic and then were eventually “deleted.” Smaller groups would convene at a manager’s discretion. The chatter and congeniality became less.
Settling business issues was often done online or by conference calls. Whereas a “thread” used to mean something I used for sewing, now a “thread” referred to a typically long email chain where thoughts were shared among recipients. Communication was quicker, but sometimes not as delicate, and could result in some bruising. Bring back the donuts, I thought, and also the in-person meetings.
The pace of everything seemed faster. With better access to information and easier sharing, our decision-making was expected to improve. “No time to waste” became a mantra, and The Internet became the friend that would help get us there.
Converting data into meaningful information was trickier than it seemed. So much data was at our fingertips now, but what of it was significant, and what could it mean? It was anyone’s guess… or interpretation.
On a lighter note, I found myself, hunkering down to decompress with a game of Solitaire or Minesweeper on our computers. It was a great way to manage our angst. Those who played, which seemed like most, also became good at minimizing the game window when needed.
There are trade-offs in everything we do, and as much as I loved Friday morning donuts and coffee, time marches on, and our needs change. The Internet, in some ways, could be viewed as an inclusive tool with increased transparency, though at a cost.
There was a cost to the culture. There were costs to those who didn’t have computers that were fully up to the task, and there were costs to keeping up with the “latest and greatest.” To take advantage of our new-found power, you needed to be “all in.”
I wonder how Hewlett and Packard would have redefined the “HP Way” if the Internet had happened during their era. My guess?
They would still have affirmed that power lies within the individual.
They would still ask managers to view their top job as helping to enable the success of their people.
Maybe they’d do a riff on John F Kennedy’s saying, “To whom much is given, much is required.” It might go something like:
“We’ve given you a lot. Now, be mindful of security, privacy, and inclusivity. Make sure you treat your colleagues with the same respect and sensibilities as you have. We will expect these tools to make you better people who still care about doing the job in the right way.”
The theme would still revolve around trusting people and acting ethically at all levels of the organization. They might add,
“The Internet just made this easier. Go forth and conquer. We’ve got your back.”