This is the nature of management. Decisions are made, usually for good reasons, which in turn prompt other decisions. So when problems arise - and they always do - disentangling them is not as simple as correcting the original error. Often, finding a solution is a multi-step endeavor. There is the problem you know you are trying to solve - think of that as an oak tree - and then there are all the other problems - think of these as saplings - that sprouted from the acorns that fell around it. And these problems remain after you cut the oak tree down.

There is a crucial yet hard-to-understand concept here. Most people grasp the need to set priorities; they put the biggest problems at the top, with smaller problems beneath them. There are simply too many small problems to consider them all. So they draw a horizontal line beneath which they will not tread, directing all their energies to those above the line. I believe there is another approach: If we allow more people to solve problems without permission, and if we tolerate (and don’t vilify) their mistakes, then we enable a much larger set of problems to be addressed. When a random problem pops up in this scenario, it causes no panic, because the threat of failure has been defanged. The individual or the organization responds with its best thinking, because the organization is not frozen, fearful, waiting for approval. Mistakes will still be made, but in my experience, they are fewer and farther between and are caught at an earlier stage.

There are two major errors with that line of thinking. The first is overestimating what you, the manager, are capable of. Yes, it may be within your power to solve a wide variety of issues, but as a single individual, you can’t solve that many of them. The best work comes from those who have the time to live and breathe a problem fully, who can dedicate themselves to finding the best solution.

The second error is assuming that nobody wants to take on hard problems. In fact, the most talented employees aren’t looking for special treatment or “easy” projects. They want to be challenged. There is no greater sign of trust than handing your report an intricately tangled knot that you believe she can pull apart, even if you’re not sure how.

It starts with changing your attitude about false alarms. Recall that any worker in a Toyota factory can pull an Andon Cord to alert a team leader of a possible error before it turns into a production failure. The team leader and team member examine the potential problem, however small, and together either fix or dismiss the threat. If only one of twelve pulls of the Andon Cord stops the assembly line for a genuine problem, you might think the company would be upset by wasting supervisors’ time chasing the eleven false alarms. It turns out that the opposite is true. A pulled Andon Cord that does not identify an actual error is framed as a useful drill. The false alarm is instead experienced as a valuable learning moment, a welcome education on how things go wrong and how to adjust so as to reduce that possibility. This is not a cultural nuance. It’s a practical approach. Every Andon Cord pull is seen as a valuable episode that in the long run saves time and promotes quality.

The most powerful military machine the world had ever seen was defeated in Vietnam and Afghanistan and failed in Iraq. It is hard to imagine a more compelling demonstration that the scale of an organisation is less important than the match between the capabilities of the organisation and the problems it is asked to solve. And the most powerful manufacturing organisation the world had ever seen was defeated in global automobile markets when Asian businesses successfully challenged the hegemony of General Motors. Toyota famously introduced the Andon cord, which enabled individual workers to stop the production line if they identified a defect or a problem. The system restored personal initiative and encouraged workers to take pride in their work.