The cabbie's guide to organizational learning

I am interested in how people organize, in how they get things done. We talk about organizations as if they were inanimate things and degrade a business, a school, a corporation into a concrete form. But an organization is constituted by people with a specific purpose where the elements of doing things are arranged more or less systematically. It’s all about people working out the best way to achieve something together. Organization is people activity.

A railway is good example of how we degrade the idea of organization as people into a concrete thing. Of course, it’s a network of tracks with the trains. But the important thing is how the people systematically work out how to move people and things around. Overall a railway offers pretty useful, sustainable benefits to society by providing collective travel that’s sustainable. And employment for loads of people across different sectors.

We can thank the Victorians for seeing the importance of railways even though roads of rails called Wagonways were being used in Germany from as early as 1550. These primitive railed roads consisted of wooden rails over which horse-drawn wagons or carts moved with greater ease than over dirt roads. And yes, it was more advanced technology that made railways better but some real innovation in organizing mass travel came from the people who understood how to organize the complexities of the process: the station, ticketing, timetabling and so on.

The day-to-day running of a big station must be incredibly complicated with all sorts of unexpected problems. Some of them arise from the specific location, others from outside factors (leaves on the line, track repairs, delays on other networks - even suicides and terrorist threats). As passengers, our experiences are mixed. Especially as commuters or when we need to make connections. The uncooperative guy behind the ticket desk, the high price of season tickets, the over-packed commuter train, and the seemingly endless frustrations of delays and cancellations can make you want to use your car. Or even take a taxi.

Incidentally, cars and taxis help get us to stations to take trains; they are part of the way we self-organize ourselves to catch the train. I use both. I feel guilty about the car. I love taxis even if I shouldn’t. And I love London cabbies. That’s because they gossip and make me feel as if I am part of a huge and vibrant London village. Believe it or not, I learn a lot about organizations from London taxi-drivers.

One driver told me how his cab company often gets calls from one particular stationmaster late at night asking them to take passengers from his London station to another station miles away. This is because the last train is often cancelled and the rail company are contractually obliged to take the passengers to their final destination. The cabbies love this. They charge the full rate and it makes them loads of money.

This had only started happening when there was a change of stationmaster. The previous one, whom he rated much more highly as a hands-on manager, had moved to another station. “Why was he so good,” I asked. “Didn’t he have last-minute cancellations to late trains?” “Oh yes,” he answered. “And he still does but he doesn’t call on us.” It’s all to do with organization. Because cancellations are commonplace, and because they are known about a few hours in advance, this guy has made an arrangement with a mini-cab firm that can, at short notice, supply cars and mini-buses to take passengers on. He has estimated the number of passengers by analysing previously cancelled trains over a given period so that he can make an intelligent guess about requirements. And the firm has agreed a good discount for consistent business. “He must save the rail company a load of money, and he is looking after his customers by not keeping them waiting. The cars are always waiting for them.” In other words, railways work well when the people running them are good at organizing them.

I would like to whistle-blow on the inefficient stationmaster and celebrate the good one. But I don’t feel that I can. After all, it’s only a bit of organizational gossip overheard in a cab rather than by the coffee machine.