To celebrate my mother’s birthday, this post is dedicated to fixing one of her frustrations – being overwhelmed with information that delivers very little insight.
Have you ever found yourself in the situation where you’ve had to make an important business decision, IT have given you a 100-page report (that took months to develop) and yet you can’t find the one answer you need to make the right decision?
You may have seen me tweet this week about how unlikely it was for me to find inspiration for my blog at the supermarket. I was wrong!
With two sick kids and a husband away for the weekend, I was looking for a smarter way to do my grocery shopping. I decided to try out the new “Click & Collect” approach – that is to order my groceries online and pick them up in store the following day. Everything was going according to plan – the website knew who I was, and knew from their loyalty program the items that I purchase regularly and suggested I include them in my basket. It also made recommendations on products I might like based on items I had in my shopping basket. Feeling like the supermarket chain knew me and my shopping needs, I happily paid for my groceries and went to collect them the following day.
The problem was, even with all that analytics and insight, they forgot to act.
The title “Solution Architect” is one I’ve carried proudly for some time. After listening to a TED presentation on the way to work this morning, I’m thinking of changing it to “Outcome Architect”. I don’t design solutions, I design outcomes. And here’s why.
At the end of an amazing week in Germany spent welcoming our new Business Analytics Solution Architects to the family, I couldn’t help but reminisce about the rich and successful history of IBMers before them. So when I found myself sitting in the club lounge at Frankfurt airport waiting for my flight, I opened up the IBM family album and took a trip down memory lane.
The centennial celebration last year produced a wealth of information about the innovations in IBM‘s 100 year history. But it was the old TV commercials that had me in hysterics – much to the amusement of my fellow loungers.