The IMP of the Impossible

Not long ago, I was forced to demand the resignation of a top-level executive in one of my companies. Although he was intelligent, hard-working and experienced, this man had a signal weakness that proved fatal to his career -- and which, in time, might well have proved fatal to the company. He simply could not distinguish between the possible and the impossible -- and his myopia extended to matters large and small.

Typical of his costly blunders was his tendency to undertake tasks which he should have realized were patently impossible to fulfill. Also typical were his ebulliently optimistic -- and completely unrealistic -- estimates of the time it would take to carry out an assignment or to complete a project.

"Yes, we can do it," he'd promise with bland assurance -- even though "it" could not be done. "I'll have everything finished for you in three days," he'd say confidently -- even though he must have known three weeks would be required to perform the work in question.

Perhaps he was driven by some compulsive desire to impress people with promises. Maybe he was afflicted with some rare form of sophomania or counted on fortuitous miracles to achieve the impossibilities he was in the habit of promising so rashly. Whatever the reasons, he gradually dragged himself -- and his associates, subordinates and superiors -- down into a morass of totally impractical projects, backlogged work, canceled orders and programs that had to be abandoned with consequent financial loss to the company.

This executive's inability to distinguish between the possible and the impossible created chaos within the company and alienated its customers. Brought to book for his shortcomings, he again demonstrated his fatal myopia by failing to realize that one cannot indefinitely hide one's mistakes behind glib excuses or displays of histrionics. He indulged freely in both in a futile effort to save the job he had already proved he could not possibly handle.

I believe it was La Rochefoucauld who first argued that "nothing is impossible." In my opinion, this is sheer nonsense, and I flatly reject the theory, noting that even La Rochefoucauld felt it advisable to later amend his adage to read: "Few things are impossible in themselves."

I'm inclined to cock a skeptical eye at even this revised version. However, rather than further disparage the good Duc de La Rochefoucauld's philosophies, I'll assume that our definitions of the word "few" differ greatly and let it go at that. In any event, he was referring to matters on a more esoteric plane -- while I am concerned with the hard-fact specifics of everyday living and particularly of business.

It is my opinion -- and it has been my experience -- that there are vast numbers of things which are impossible, and that one is very likely to encounter them frequently in the business world. I firmly believe that one of the most valuable assets a businessman or executive can possess is the ability to study and weigh all the factors in a given situation and determine what is feasible and what is not -- in short, to distinguish between the possible and the impossible.

The ability is seldom innate; rather, it is acquired and developed. With it, an individual's chances of achieving success are greatly enhanced. Without it, he can go only so far -- or fail altogether. Many an otherwise capable -- or even great -- man has failed because he lacked this capacity.

A comparison between Julius Caesar and Augustus Caesar indicates that Julius was basically the more able and gifted of the two. But (continued on page 82) IMP of the Impossible (continued from page 55) Julius did not have the judgment and sense of proportion to separate the wheat of the possible from the chaff of the impossible -- and this is what ultimately led to his downfall and assassination.

Augustus Caesar, on the other hand, recognized what were attainable goals, aimed for them and accomplished them. Consequently, he ruled much longer than Julius, and his over-all accomplishments were much more constructive and lasting.

Napoleon Bonaparte was also an able and gifted individual -- but he, too, was eventually destroyed by the malefic imp of the impossible. Napoleon -- like Julius Caesar -- was devoid of a sense of proportion, as evidenced by his disastrous invasion of Russia. The Compleat Megalomaniac, he blindly ignored the vast distances involved, the Russian climate and his own political weaknesses at home -- all fairly obvious factors which doomed his campaign to failure long before his troops began their march to the east.

Now, a businessman who fails because he cannot distinguish between the possible and the impossible will not be stabbed to death in the boardroom by the company's directors -- at least, not literally. Nor will he be exiled for the rest of his days to an island in the South Atlantic (unless, perhaps, the company happens to have a subsidiary plant or branch office there). Nonetheless, the practice of biting off more than he can chew properly will certainly prove calamitous to any executive's or businessman's career -- and business.

But the converse is equally true, for the imp of the impossible is a perverse demon. The individual who is able to perceive the glint of the possible in a situation which outwardly appears to be fraught with insuperable obstacles is the most likely to reap the richest rewards. One does not have to look very far to find proof of this.

In the 1920s, self-taught engineer Robert G. LeTourneau's ideas for building Gargantuan earth-moving machines were widely considered to be impractical pipe dreams. LeTourneau, however, knew that he could actually produce the equipment his detractors predicted would be useless. He went on to build his giant machines and the nation's biggest earth-moving-machinery company -- and to revolutionize the entire heavy-construction industry.

Reaching 65 in 1953, LeTourneau sold his business to Westinghouse Air Brake for a reported $31,000,000. He also agreed not to engage in manufacturing earthmoving machinery for the next five years.

The consensus held that it would not be possible for him to get back into business again -- not only because of his age, but also because he gave most of his money to a charitable foundation.

LeTourneau confounded the consensus, however. By 1959 -- at the age of 71 -- he was right back in business. He produced a revolutionary electrically powered, mobile offshore oil-drilling platform which, incidentally, the wiseacres had maintained "never could be built and wouldn't work even if it was." At last report, Robert LeTourneau's sales were said to be running in the neighborhood of $10,000,000 a year.

Few people, indeed, considered the Depression-era year of 1933 an auspicious one in which to start a new business. Among those who thought otherwise was young J. A. Ryder, who turned a deaf ear to the calamity howlers' warnings that any new business was bound to fail.

Using $125 of his $155 "capital," Ryder bought a secondhand truck and went into business for himself. With an almost uncanny talent for perceiving the possible in the most unpromising times and situations, he went on to build his business. Within 25 years, he had created a trucking empire with an annual gross revenue that is said to exceed $85,000,000.

Shortly before V-E Day, First Lieutenant Melvin J. David was given a few days' leave from the front and sent to an Army rest center in Belgium. One afternoon, he noticed several Belgian villagers industriously twisting and welding scraps of heavy wire into various shapes. He saw that they were making lamp bases, stands and other utilitarian and decorative objects out of the wire they'd salvaged from nearby battlefields and the junk heaps of Allied supply dumps and depots.

The Belgians' activity gave David an idea. He saw the possibilities of using wire to mass-produce a wide range of industrial and consumer items. Discharged from the Army a year later, he went to Southern California and sought to translate his idea into commercially practical reality. Told that his ideas were unrealistic and impossible, he used his slender capital -- $1500 -- to design and build his first machine and went into business. Today, Mel David's Melco Wire Products Company is a thriving enterprise. The company produces everything from bosom-supporters for women's bathing suits to vital parts for jet aircraft -- all made from wire. David's ability to recognize the possible has paid off to the tune of some $2,000,000 in yearly gross sales.

The annals of American business have always been replete with such examples which prove that businessmen can achieve notable success by discerning the possibility of things which others consider impossible. The most significant inventions and advancements have been made -- and the most successful businesses and largest fortunes have been created -- in precisely this way.

Is it possible -- or impossible?

I've had to resolve this question very often in my own business career. In so doing, I've frequently allowed seeming opportunities to go by because, on careful examination, I saw that the outward appearances were deceiving and the objectives toward which the "opportunities" pointed were actually unattainable. At the same time, I've achieved some of my most noteworthy successes by recognizing that what seemed to be impossible situations and challenges on the surface were, in fact, entirely within the realm of possibility.

Many years ago, when I was still a tyro in the oil business, everyone considered it impossible to find oil in the "Red Beds" area of Oklahoma. I made a careful study of the region and came to the conclusion that the universally held theory was entirely without basis. It seemed quite possible to me that there was oil in the "Red Beds." I obtained a lease on a property in the area, drilled, struck oil -- and opened up a new producing area.

When, in the 1930s, I set out to build an integrated oil business, I knew it would be necessary to gain control of a major oil company -- in itself an apparent impossibility. I was a comparatively small independent operator, a wildcatter. For anyone of my relatively puny business stature to tackle a "major" was all but inconceivable. More than a few of my friends ridiculed the idea, freely citing the classic tale of the vainglorious flea ascending the elephant's haunch.

Nonetheless, I believed in the feasibility of my plans. The next question was: Which major oil company? There were several from which to choose. Such giants as Standard or Shell I did not even consider; it was clearly impossible for me to dent them. Others were less invulnerable, but for various reasons did not fit my plans. I finally set my sights on the Tide Water Associated Oil Company, which seemed ideally suited for the program I had in mind.

Once I'd decided on Tide Water Associated, it was necessary to decide yet another question: Would it be possible for me to obtain control of that particular company with the resources at my disposal? Again, on the face of it, the answer was a resounding negative; it was "impossible."

In the first place, I did not have sufficient money to buy a controlling interest outright. I also knew that as(continued on page 136) IMP of the Impossible (continued from page 82) soon as the incumbent directors learned what I was trying to do, they would spare little effort to stop me.

Impossible? Yes -- at first glance. On the other hand, I felt my program for building an integrated, self-contained network of companies would benefit all concerned -- stockholders, employees and the general public. I believed I could prove this to other stockholders, gain their confidence and thus their voting proxies.

My campaign to obtain control of the Tide Water Associated -- now Tidewater -- Oil Company lasted nearly 20 years. In the end, I had accomplished what I'd set out to do -- and owned enough shares to hold numerical control of the company. Obviously, my original plan was possible, despite all surface indications to the contrary. I might add that the company -- and its thousands of stock-holders -- have benefited from Tidewater's inclusion in an integrated operation. The company's assets have increased some seven times -- to more than $800,000,000 in value.

I encountered -- or perhaps I should say I stumbled into -- another potentially possible "impossible" situation in 1940. My cousin, the late Hal Seymour, and I were vacationing in Mexico and stopped off in Acapulco. The climate, surroundings and sea being fine -- and swimming being one of my favorite sports -- we decided to stay awhile.

One day -- and purely by accident -- I met another tourist who exuberantly declared he'd discovered "the world's most beautiful beach" and asked me if I'd care to see it. I agreed that I would, almost backing out at the last minute when I learned we'd have to take a truck through some 15 miles of tropical forest to reach the spot. But I went anyway, clinging grimly to the side of an ancient truck that jounced and bumped along a crude dirt trail which looked as though it had been unused since the day it had been blazed by some wandering brontosaurus.

My first glimpse of Revolcadero Beach was ample compensation for the discomfort of the journey and balm for my bruises. My tourist friend hadn't exaggerated. It was the world's most beautiful beach. After a few more visits, I made up my mind to buy several hundred acres of the property and build a luxury resort hotel on the site.

Now, most people I know generally disagree about most things, but when I announced my intentions to buy and build at Revolcadero Beach, their reactions were uniquely unanimous.

"Impossible!"The reasons they gave for considering my proposal impossible were legion -- and, I must admit, ostensibly reasonable. The land I wanted to buy was completely undeveloped: it would cost a fortune merely to clear it. There were no roads and no utilities: these would have to be built and provided at staggering cost. Revolcadero Beach was unknown and off the beaten path; people would not pay luxury-hotel rates in a resort that wasn't situated in a "fashionable" location. The type of resort I envisioned would need boat landings and a yacht basin: another fortune would be needed to build and dredge them. Europe was already at war -- it was foolhardy to invest large sums in any foreign country ...

So the objections ran -- on and on. They varied in nature, but they all added up to a one-word total: "Impossible!"

I thought -- I knew -- the project was entirely possible. Development of the land alone would increase its value. The natural beauty of Revolcadero Beach and the construction of the type of hotel I envisioned there would be enough to make the resort "fashionable." Lower labor and material costs in Mexico would at least partially offset the added expense of building from scratch on virgin land.

These and other considerations convinced me -- and I bought the land. Pearl Harbor was attacked shortly afterward, and the United States entered World War II. My plans for Revolcadero Beach were shelved for the duration.

It wasn't until 1956 that the Hotel Pierre Marques finally opened at Revolcadero Beach. When it did, the luxurious resort hotel proved to be all I'd anticipated, and its instant success exceeded all hopes -- another "impossible" project that the was 100-percent possible from the beginning. There have been many others -- large and small -- before and after.

Back in the 1920s, a drilling bit that twisted off in a hole generally was a serious, expensive headache. Days, even weeks, were spent fruitlessly "fishing" for the bit. Meanwhile, the hole could not be drilled deeper, costs continued to mount up and frequently the oil for which one was drilling would be drained off by nearby wells.

"Fishing" was accepted as the only possible remedy for a twist-off; there seemed to be no feasible alternative. Then, in 1927, a company in which I held an interest had a twist-off on a Santa Fe Springs, California, drilling site. Several weeks were wasted while the crew "fished" for the bit. Thinking any possible new approach better than none, I went to a stoneyard hard by the nearest cemetery, where I bought a six-foot-long marble shaft and had one end cut to taper. Returning with it to the drilling site, I told the drillers to throw it down the hole -- which they did.

The simple expedient worked. The heavy granite shaft slammed the bit out of the way. Granite whipstocks have been used successfully in similar situations on innumerable occasions since then. In the oil industry, they're called "Paul Getty Specials."

In the 1940s, it was considered impossible to drill horizontally in the oil fields. I was far from convinced that it couldn't be done by a newly developed technique utilizing flexible curved tubing and a mud pump. Shortly after World War II ended, I had experiments carried out on one of my properties.

The technique was improved and refined in the course of these experiments and soon proved entirely practical and efficient. As a result, horizontal drilling is now fairly commonplace. Many once-difficult and costly drilling problems now can be solved quickly and economically.

Even six years ago, many experts and observers in the oil industry maintained it was impossible to build an automated oil refinery. The one Tidewater built in Delaware has astounded even its designers by its trouble-free efficiency ever since it went into operation in 1957.

In very recent years, various "authorities" have held that the oil-tanker market is glutted, making it impossible to operate a tanker fleet profitably. Getty interests maintain a large tanker fleet, find it quite possible to operate it at a tidy profit -- and have more supertankers on order and a-building.

Not long ago ... but there is hardly any need to continue. My experiences along these lines are hardly unique. Every successful businessman has had many similar ones.

All top businessmen I know have made their biggest strides up the success ladder because they were able to see the possible in what others rejected or ignored as the impossible. And, I add hastily and emphatically, they managed to avoid taking large steps backward because they generally were able to recognize the impossible and give it a wide berth.

I emphasize the word "generally" because everyone makes some mistakes. No one's record is perfect.

I've spent more than one large sum drilling thousands of feet into the ground in the belief it was possible I would strike oil -- only to bring in a bone-dry hole.

I've sold more than one lease because I thought it impossible to find oil on the property -- and then learned to my sorrow that the next leaseholder thought otherwise, drilled a well and brought in a producer.

I've made many other mistakes and miscalculations -- more of them than I'd care to remember on days when I'm wearing a tight collar. There aren't any 1.000 batters. If there were, baseball wouldn't be much of a game -- and if businessmen always made the right decisions, business wouldn't be business.

The point I'm driving at is that the successful businessman is the one who makes the right choice between the possible and the impossible more often than not. The seasoned businessman does not arrive at such decisions by haphazard guesswork. Nor does he decide one way or another because he has a hunch or a clairvoyant premonition. A great deal of careful thought and consideration goes into resolving the problem of the possible versus the impossible whenever it arises.

No, there aren't any inflexible rules or money-back-guaranteed formulae for determining whether something is feasible or not. If there were, the question would never come up. However, there is an ordered, logical method by which any given business situation can be studied and weighed -- and by the use of which the risk of error is greatly reduced.

Confronted by the perverse imp of the impossible, the veteran businessman organizes his thinking and examines all aspects of the situation with meticulous objectivity. He does this by asking himself a series of questions, the most important of which follow:

1. What -- precisely and in detail -- is the situation, proposition or issue under consideration?

2. What is at stake -- what are the costs, what are the minimum and maximum the company stands to gain and lose?

3. Are there any precedents, and if so, can they be considered valid and applicable in this instance?

4. What do other parties -- buyers or sellers, brokers, competitors, customers, etc. -- stand to gain or lose either way?

5. What are the known obstacles and difficulties the company faces if it goes ahead -- and precisely how can they be overcome?

6. What other difficulties are likely to arise -- and if they do, what resources are available and what steps may be taken to cope with them?

7. Are all the facts known -- could there be any additional, hidden pitfalls?

8. How long will it take to accomplish the objectives or goals in question if it is decided to proceed?

9. Would the company stand to gain more by devoting equal time and effort to something else?

10. Are the personnel who would be responsible for handling the matter fully qualified and dependable?

Once he has the answers to these questions, the businessman weighs them in the balance to determine whether the undertaking is possible or impossible. If the scales tip heavily in one direction or another, his choice is not hard to make. If, on the other hand, the plus and minus factors tend to balance, then he must use his judgment, sense of proportion -- and even his business intuition -- to arrive at a decision.

The veteran businessman mentally goes through this check list of questions automatically whenever there are any doubts about the practicality of a business situation.

The young executive or beginner in business would do well under such circumstances to sit down with pencil and paper and actually list the questions and his debit-and-credit answers to them. The tyro is likely to obtain a clear -- and sometimes entirely new and different -- view of the problem confronting him if he sees the pro-and-con arguments and the various pertinent factors spelled out in black and white. He'll thus have before him a detailed inventory of the advantages and disadvantages, the potential rewards and potential dangers of all the elements forming the complete design.

Examining the over-all picture, the novice is very liable to see angles and aspects, flaws and strengths, expedients and alternatives, and potentials and pitfalls, which had previously eluded him or which he hadn't given much thought to before.

Once it's all in front of him, he is like a chess player who studies his own pieces and those of his opponent on the board, then goes on to plan his tactics and strategy and anticipates the opponent's countermoves.

The chess analogy may well be carried further. Like the chess player, the executive or businessman can foresee which moves will "take pieces" from his opponent and which will cause him to "lose pieces" of his own. He'll be able to make a reasonable guess as to whether a certain gambit or attack will confer an advantage on him or his opponent. But, be this as it may, eventually he must make his decision. Is the situation possible -- or impossible? Should he play, forfeit, or resign the game?

In business, as in chess, the final choice always and inevitably depends on the most important of all factors in any situation -- the judgment of the individual concerned.

Possible -- or impossible? When you are in business, it's up to you to decide.