At the start  of the 2000s, Michael Volkema, then the chief executive officer of  Herman Miller Inc., became convinced that growth in the white-collar  workforce was going to slow in the company’s main markets. That was a  threat to this office-furniture maker, based in Zeeland, Mich., whose  revenues depended on products sold to the white-collar workforce —  products such as office desks, chairs, panels, shelves, and cabinets.  Volkema’s solution was to create the Creative Office, a capability  within Herman Miller for identifying adjacent markets in which the  company could build businesses that would provide significant new  streams of revenue.
  The CEO chose Gary Miller, a 26-year company research veteran, to  spearhead the effort, with the aspiration of doubling the size of the  company’s business playing field in three to five years. Miller (no  relation to the Miller in the company name) knew he would be exploring  unfamiliar market territory. Although he would stay within the  boundaries of office interiors, he would need to step beyond Herman  Miller’s traditional niche making furniture and cubicles.
 Still, Miller didn’t want to butt heads with incumbent companies. Why  compete with giants dominating existing markets? “Gary went out and  asked, ‘What are the unsolved problems out there?’” says Brian Walker,  the company’s former chief financial officer, who took over as CEO in  2004. “He didn’t ask, ‘How do I respond to the market for specific  products like lighting?’”
 Miller’s multiyear research and development effort, which included  creating a partnership with West Coast and East Coast technologists and  architects, led to a burst of new concepts. In lighting, for example,  GE, Philips, and Osram Sylvania were then focusing on light-emitting  diodes (LEDs) as substitutes for standard incandescent light fixtures.  Miller and his team saw an alternative: using the low-voltage DC power  of LEDs for novel kinds of illumination — light tunnels, walls, lighted  objects, wearable light. Why restrict lights to conventional overhead  fixtures? Why not integrate them into office furniture and fixtures in  new ways?
 That effort led to a suite of product prototypes dubbed Programmable  Environments, and later to a new business named Convia. Among the  prototypes were illuminated, movable “visual shields” that changed color  and a suspended wall with integrated LEDs. Integral to the new product  suite was the notion of programmability. Office workers themselves would  be able to use various devices, including their desktop computers, to  reconfigure and reprogram the office environment. The new hardware and  software allowed Miller and his team to redefine how people would think  about personal space, office geometry, privacy, and illumination. In the  end, the R&D project spawned 25 patent applications, and Convia was  established as a Herman Miller subsidiary in 2006.
 The creation of Convia might sound like a tale of pure product  innovation, or even of technology adoption, but it is actually a story  about management — and only the most recent of several similar stories  at Herman Miller. Over many decades, the company has made itself a  laboratory for testing new management ideas and turning them into  effective practice. Since 1995 in particular, under CEOs Volkema and  Walker, Herman Miller has adopted a string of management innovations —  shareholder value–based decision making, lean production, supplier and  dealer integration — and made them work for the long term.
 As testimony to the benefits of disciplined management practice,  Herman Miller has weathered the recent financial storm while continuing  to fund high-risk ventures like Gary Miller’s. Herman Miller competes in  an industry slammed by arguably the worst commercial real-estate crisis  in a generation. Still, despite a 19 percent plunge in sales for fiscal  2009 (ending in May), the US$1.6 billion company reported a $68 million  profit, albeit down from $152 million in fiscal 2008. Over the last 10  years, its stock has consistently outperformed the Standard & Poor’s  500 index.
  Building the Foundations
 Herman Miller’s management journey started with decades of nurturing  by the De Pree family. D.J. De Pree founded the company in 1923. (He  named it after his father-in-law, who put up the money for the firm.)  D.J. passed the CEO baton to his sons, first Hugh (for 18 years) and  then Max (for seven years). The family, with D.J. De Pree in the lead,  embedded two key principles that continue to inform the company’s  management approach. One was a commitment to participative management;  the other, a problem-solving approach to design.
 The company adopted the so-called Scanlon plan for employee  gain-sharing in 1950. A maverick idea at the time, the Scanlon plan  called on production workers to make decisions to boost productivity,  and recommended paying workers bonuses for doing so. Although the plan  has gone through many incarnations, the company still engages all  workers in decisions and pays them bonuses based on performance.
 Max De Pree, CEO from 1980 to 1987, drew broad attention to the  culture at Herman Miller by writing the bestselling Leadership Is an  Art (Dell, 1990). Of participative management, he wrote: “Each of  us, no matter what our rank in the hierarchy may be, has the same  rights: to be needed, to be involved, to have a covenantal relationship,  to understand the corporation, to affect our destiny, to be  accountable, to appeal, to make a commitment.”
 As if to complement the novelty of participative management, the  company adopted a unique approach to problem solving, stemming from  D.J.’s decision to involve the company in the world of premium  industrial design — in particular, contemporary design. Outsiders  familiar with Herman Miller often know more about its iconic products  than anything else about the company. The Eames Lounge Chair, a cradle  of molded wood veneer holding calfskin cushions, introduced in 1956, is  in the collection of the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The Aeron,  the mesh-backed, ergonomic desk chair that became an icon of the dot-com  era — and is still ubiquitous in many offices — was named the Design of  the Decade (1990s) by Business Week.
 Herman Miller came up with these products because D.J., and then Hugh  and Max, made big bets on the vision of outside designers, a practice  uncommon in industry then and now. Perhaps the most revered of these  outsiders was Charles Eames, who started work for the company in 1946,  and, together with his wife and close collaborator, Ray Eames, produced  pathbreaking designs into the mid-1970s. Many continue to sell well  today, decades after their introduction. The Eames Lounge Chair remains a  classic in both homes and offices.
 Though observers often see the Eameses’ designs as works of art, the  couple’s approach was highly analytical and practical, and left its mark  on Herman Miller. Charles Eames held that the first task of a designer  was to recognize “constraints,” including factors like price, size,  production time, strength, and support, and that the best design was the  one that best balanced them. In a New York showroom, he reportedly  said, “Don’t give us that ‘good design’ crap.... The real questions are:  Does it solve a problem? Is it serviceable? How is it going to look in  ten years?” Even though he was never a Herman Miller employee, Eames’s  image appears in photos and posters across Herman Miller’s facilities  and literature. His thinking has become Herman Miller’s thinking. And  even today, company managers talk about business in Eames’s terms of  constraints and problem solving.
 Solving a Financial Crisis
 Despite Herman Miller’s grounding in the disciplined management of  the De Pree family, executives at the company began to lose their way in  the early 1990s, and the board of directors became concerned,  particularly about a lack of spending discipline and a decline in  profitability. The board promoted then president Volkema in 1995 to be  CEO, giving him the urgent task of restoring solid financial  performance.
 Volkema, who stepped down as CEO in 2004 but remains chairman, notes  that healthy profitability should have been a cinch when he took over:  The industry was growing at a double-digit rate. The company “had really  gotten off track,” he says. “We had operating margins that were out of  control. We were going to break even in a year when we really should  have made a lot of money.”
 To rectify the lackluster profitability, he and then CFO Walker took  the path many companies started down in the 1990s: focusing on  shareholder value. The key lesson that Herman Miller took to heart was  that a company doesn’t create shareholder value unless it creates  economic value added, or EVA — and it doesn’t create positive EVA unless  it generates returns above the cost of capital, enough to pay for debt and  equity capital. In much of the industry, that insight resulted in a lot  of cutting and restructuring, little more. But at Herman Miller it also  involved an effort to get people at every level to make better, more  informed financial decisions.
 Walker led a program to cascade EVA training down to every employee,  very much in the spirit of D.J. De Pree. He wanted everyone at the  company to calculate the financial effect of decisions big and small. It  didn’t matter if they were involved in buying, selling, building,  designing, billing, paying, or financing. Or whether they were charged  with controlling quality, reliability, inventory, waste, energy use,  scrap, or the kinds of staples people used. They were expected to embed  EVA into their thinking. As everyone grasped what it took to create a  true economic profit, Walker established a new level of business  literacy.
 Heather Kerres, who started as a cushion stapler on a chair assembly  line, remembers the introduction of EVA. Before that time, she recalls  that she and her co-workers sometimes bought things “frivolously.”  Afterward, she says, “On the line, we really watched what we spent.” Her  assembly line also strived as never before to make chairs perfect the  first time, so the company could sell more. They understood they needed  to exceed the previous year’s EVA. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t get a  bonus.
 Walker himself hewed closely to the shareholder value constraint.  During the dot-com crash, he and Volkema used EVA to nix one appealing  acquisition. The target company, which Walker declines to name, fit  nicely with Herman Miller’s product line. It was growing fast, had good  margins, and could pump up revenues and earnings handily. But an EVA  analysis revealed a different picture. For every spurt of growth, the  operation would need a slug of capital. “It was uneconomic,” the CEO  says. He walked.
 Developing the Performance System
 Although the focus on economic profit restored financial discipline  to Herman Miller, Volkema faced another crisis at the same time, this  one in manufacturing. Ironically, the crisis first emerged in a unit  Volkema had himself run some years before. At the company’s Spring Lake,  Mich., file cabinet plant, big customers like Hewlett-Packard and  AT&T were pulling their orders. So was one of the company’s own  business units, an express-delivery division that accounted for some 25  percent of Spring Lake’s volume. A Herman Miller competitor just 60  miles away was offering better quality at lower prices. “We’d reached  one of those threshold moments when you have to do something,” says Ray  Muscat, operations chief at Spring Lake at the time. “Here’s someone in  the family telling you they don’t want your services.”
 Muscat (now senior vice president of operations engineering) and  others started to question the wisdom of their commitment to batch  manufacturing, for which they had spent heavily to build product in lots  of 500 or more. At Spring Lake, they had invested in a giant robot  assembly that welded supports inside file cabinet housings, including a  tractor-trailer-length automated welding line with 1,000 sensors. The  Holy Grail of this approach was to drive labor completely out of the  process. “Our dream was a ‘lights out’ factory,” says Matt Long, then  the head of manufacturing engineering.
 But the batch manufacturing approach had created several problems.  Some customers had started to reduce the size of orders. They wanted  file cabinets in lots of 100 instead of 500. Other customers wanted file  cabinets in two weeks instead of six. And many of them wanted much  higher quality, the kind apparent in products like the Lexus and Acura  cars that were now dominating the luxury auto market.
 The Spring Lake plant couldn’t deliver, and certainly not for the  lower prices customers demanded. To Muscat and his colleagues who had  been raised on the wonders of big-batch manufacturing, the prospect of  change was mind-bending. Desperate, they searched for solutions, finally  reaching out to the global leader in lean manufacturing, Toyota.  Starting in 1995, they adapted Toyota’s leading-edge formula for  plant-floor management into an approach they called the Herman Miller  Performance System (HMPS).
 Having followed these lean principles for more than 10 years, the  plant now ships a product in two and a half hours instead of the former  60. It engages 20 people on one assembly line rather than 120 on two.  Instead of manufacturing in lots of 500, it manufactures in lots of one.  As just one example, a metal stamping machine once took more than four  hours for changeovers. Now operators conduct a changeover in about 15  minutes — and are working toward a goal of eight minutes. So adept are  workers at what people now call lean manufacturing that the plant has  been used as a demonstration site by Toyota itself for many years.  Toyota’s inspectors reaffirmed that status in mid-2009.
  In implementing the HMPS approach, plant managers across Herman  Miller have learned that the best-run plants rely on people, not  machines. Only people can solve problems to make assembly lines go  faster, run cheaper, and deliver higher quality. As Long (now director  of the corporate HMPS team) toured the file cabinet plant recently, a  visitor paused by a welding robot and asked, “Why don’t you use more  robots?”
 “Robots,” Long said, “can’t make themselves better.”
 Another lesson that the Herman Miller team learned from the lean  approach was the importance of reducing waste — waste in space, cost,  material, motion, process, and inventory. In the world of lean  production, “waste” is anything that doesn’t yield customer value. At  some companies, managers make periodic stabs at cutting waste. At Herman  Miller, they make a practice of it daily.
 Muscat, Long, and others then spread the essence of the lean  production system to all Herman Miller plants. Meeting demand for the  company’s best-selling Aeron ergonomic chair required five assembly  lines back in 1998. Although the lines could collectively make several  thousand units per week, they covered 27,000 square feet (2,500 square  meters), and employed 77 people in three shifts. Now Herman Miller has  equal or greater production capacity in a mere 2,500 square feet (230  square meters), using 24 people in three shifts on one line.
 Adopting Win-win Supplier Relations
 The success of testing and adopting lean manufacturing in Herman  Miller plants led to efforts to similarly transform the supply chain.  The company recognized that its suppliers ran their plants largely the  way Herman Miller did at Spring Lake in the 1990s, and that they were  equally rife with wasted effort and material. If suppliers were to help  Herman Miller in lowering costs, changes in supply chain management were  required that would be probably even more radical than those that  Herman Miller had undertaken in its internal operations.
 Purchasing chief Drew Schramm launched the “First Mile” program in  2002 to reverse old practices. Each person in Schramm’s operation had  been managing 30 to 40 suppliers, spending most of his or her time  studying spreadsheets and working the phone for quotes. In the new  program, Schramm shifted some purchasing people to managing only core  suppliers. Instead of 30 suppliers, people in the core group manage just  five, spending their time developing their capabilities. This became  the dawn of Herman Miller’s adoption of collaborative, win-win supplier  relations.
 Schramm kicked off the First Mile program by meeting with small  groups of core suppliers, usually represented by presidents or owners.  This is what he told them: Herman Miller wants continuous improvement in  quality, delivery, and price. We will help you, providing experts such  as former shop-floor leaders from Spring Lake, to work on your shop  floor to introduce HMPS-style changes. The alternative outcome is that  Herman Miller will gradually shift its business to other, leaner  suppliers.
 The first hurdle was to get suppliers to take Herman Miller’s new  overture seriously. The purchasing business had long been a game of  playing one supplier off against another to drive prices down, and the  suppliers were used to the way the game was played. Chad Anderson, a  member of the lean manufacturing consulting team that now works with  suppliers, says the suppliers’ first reaction was one of incredulity:  “You mean the guy who was beating me up is now going to help me?”
 Progress on the new program was uneven. One large supplier signed on  but lacked enthusiasm. After making one round of improvements, the  supplier’s vice president of operations argued that the value of the  gains was modest. He said Herman Miller was due about $6,000 in pricing  benefit. By Herman Miller’s estimates, the benefit should have been more  like $100,000.
 Schramm, annoyed, was ready to cut ties with the supplier. But events  intervened. The supplier’s parent company demanded the supplier vacate  20,000 square feet (1,860 square meters) of space to make way for more  parent-company manufacturing. The vice president, with no room to spare  yet a demand from his higher-ups to shrink his plant footprint, suddenly  embraced the notion of lean manufacturing as a solution, and he asked  Herman Miller to ramp up its First Mile effort.
  Herman Miller, now armed with leverage to press the supplier to move  quickly, asked to receive its share of the expected benefits from  reduced waste and increased efficiency up front. Herman Miller managers  estimated that the supplier would be able to pass savings of $150,000 on  its charges through to Herman Miller. To their surprise — and in a  reversal of previous behavior — the supplier came back with a whopping  pricing benefit of $890,000.
 To the Last Mile
 On top of spreading the lean thinking upstream from company  operations, Herman Miller extended it downstream, launching, in 2004, a  “Last Mile” program to target its dealers. Last Mile aims to help make  dealers as healthy and successful as possible — and to help them best  represent Herman Miller’s strengths as a company.
 The Last Mile experts began by improving the dealers’  purchase-order-to-cash cycle. Paul Iles, vice president of distribution,  reports that Herman Miller has helped shorten those cycles by 15 to 20  days. The company has since taken a close look at how dealers install  products. Iles likes to remind people in Herman Miller manufacturing  that in the customers’ eyes, “We don’t actually make the product. It’s  our dealers.” After all, the dealers do the final assembly of panel  systems, desks, and other parts of the office interior; they are the  face of Herman Miller.
 The dealers now struggle with several issues. One is that unpacking  trailers, which were loaded to suit Herman Miller shipping requirements,  often takes longer than installing the products. Another is that Herman  Miller products come with many supplemental parts, because the factory  doesn’t know the configuration in which the dealers will install the  pieces. Any excess parts are waste.
 Herman Miller’s engineers have been visiting dealer sites to observe  installations. They figure they’ll find plenty of waste to cut. Perhaps  the simplest example, beyond supplemental parts, involves instruction  sheets. A dealer receiving multiples of a product receives multiple  sheets — maybe dozens. Herman Miller spends $1 million a year printing  them, so big savings are possible from eliminating extras.
 The Last Mile program has begun to change dealers’ handling of the  logistics of Herman Miller products. Ten years ago, when delivery and  quality were abysmal, dealers routinely added weeks of buffer time to  delivery commitments. They also stashed plenty of extra stock in  warehouses, knowing they couldn’t count on timely deliveries. Now that  Herman Miller delivers on schedule 99.7 percent of the time, dealers can  do away with both the buffer time and the buffer space.
 In effect, Herman Miller has taken its program for win-win supplier  relations and begun to duplicate it with its dealers, creating an  increasingly smooth end-to-end process. One sign of the dealers’  pleasure with this development: The Office Furniture Dealers Alliance  chose Herman Miller for its 2008 Manufacturer of the Year Gold Award.
 Creating New Markets
 The management skills and rigor acquired by Herman Miller since the  1990s provided the stability and financial support for the skunkworks  program of Gary Miller, its Programmable Environments initiative, and  the creation of the new Convia subsidiary — which may significantly  expand the playing field on which Herman Miller can battle for future  revenue. Early on, the Convia team was concerned about its survival  because it launched during the dot-com crash, at which time Herman  Miller sales plunged as much as 40 percent in some quarters.
 Volkema and Walker continued to fund the program in the midst of huge  cuts in costs and workforce, reinforcing the company’s commitment to  long-term growth. And they continued to support the approach taken by  Gary Miller, demonstrating once again Herman Miller’s devotion to fresh  thinking about management.
 Miller’s first challenge was setting up his Creative Office unit in  2001. To do so, he took into account several facts of corporate life.  One was the tendency for companies to support only work that replicates  past successes — the not-invented-here syndrome. Another was the  tendency to use all available capital to feed the maw of the current  product stream — something Miller calls the “tyranny of the urgent.” A  third was pressure in economic downtimes for top executives to cut  high-risk investments.
 Any one of these concerns could have killed Miller’s new-markets  initiative. So for starters, he asked Volkema, Walker, and two other top  people to sit on his internal board of directors. The objective was to  have top decision makers invest themselves in the work — to be  companions on the journey, not simply judges of it. “The idea,” Miller  says, “was to change the dynamic from traditional review-and-approve to  advocacy.”
 Second, he walled his group off from current operations. Herman  Miller had always formed partnerships with outside designers — like  Eames or more recently Bill Stumpf and Don Chadwick for the Aeron chair —  and then had inside engineers complete development. Miller wanted his  group to go it alone, independent of any internal staff resources. The  team would give birth to ideas, incubate its own prototypes, and lay the  groundwork for the new business.
 During the first six months, his group of seven identified key trends  and studied current products. They all found the same thing: Incumbent  companies plied the waters of many established, but separate, oceans of  commerce — but none were exploring the uncharted waters between them.  The incumbents weren’t even talking with one another. “That’s our  opportunity,” Miller realized. “It’s in the gray space.”
 That’s when his group recognized the opportunities to use LED  lighting in new ways. Flush with that and other design concepts, the  team looked for an outside designer. By fiat, Miller prohibited the  hiring of a furniture designer. Instead, he hired two well-known  technologists and alumni of Disney Imagineering — Bran Ferren, an  architect and special effects designer, and Danny Hillis, a computer  designer — from Applied Minds, a Glendale, Calif., think tank cum  prototype shop. Miller also hired Sheila Kennedy, a Boston architect who  teaches at Harvard University. He then gave the team a set of product  boundaries instead of a product brief.
 The new team created a stream of innovations, reinventing many  aspects of office interiors. In a 5,000-square-foot (465-square-meter)  Glendale warehouse, they installed the suite of product prototypes that  included the LED concepts; a programmable electrical system; and  articulating, ceiling-mounted walls and room dividers. From the  explosion of design created by the team, Herman Miller chose a subset  for development.
 Herman Miller launched Convia in 2006 as a product suite mixing  hardware and software, with the intent of addressing an entirely new  market, for programmable workspace. The hardware amounted to an  infrastructure backbone. Installed in a building’s ceiling, the backbone  carried an intelligent, modular electrical system with its own data  network to enable programmability. It also provided a structure for  suspending components of office interiors. The software allowed  facilities managers and building occupants to program all aspects of the  backbone’s operation.
 Herman Miller now had a product to help it grow in a market outside  its traditional furniture niche. To property developers, the company  could sell a means of building and reconfiguring offices without  throwing away wires, conduits, panels, or other material. For facilities  managers, it could sell the benefits of managing energy, light, and  HVAC for each desk. To users, it could promise the ability to  personalize space, light, heat, and sound with a few clicks of a mouse  or hand wand.
 Miller admits to waking up in the middle of the night during the  multiyear project. He worried about how much he had spent, how little  distance he had covered. “It takes patience with ambiguity to the nth  degree,” he says. One of the biggest hurdles was figuring out how to  commercialize products in a market — building infrastructure — in which  Herman Miller was a novice. Miller solved that problem in 2009 by  partnering with Legrand and its subsidiary Wiremold, a maker of  electrical and network gear for buildings.
 Whether Convia and Programmable Environments will solve the bigger  Herman Miller problem of growth into new markets remains to be seen. The  hurdles are many: selling a new concept to builders, teaching a  furniture sales force how to sell to builders, complying with unfamiliar  electrical and building codes, and of course showing customers the  value of the new products. But the new business has gotten off to a  solid start. It has attracted customers like Notre Dame,  Hewlett-Packard, and Microsoft, which chose the Convia system for the  Envisioning Lab — a facility at the Redmond, Wash., campus where the  company shares its long-term vision of technology with customers and  partners.
 So far, Legrand has trained 400 sales reps to sell the Convia  technology. And Herman Miller continues to expand its product line. It  recently introduced an energy management component to help companies  detect energy-saving opportunities and monitor reductions.
 Herman Miller has moved itself from selling furniture to providing  the entire building envelope with intelligent infrastructure. If it  succeeds in this effort, the company will have demonstrated that it has  successfully applied a new process for producing breakthrough products  in new markets. That capability would add another leading-edge practice  to its portfolio of management capabilities.
 Steady in the Storm
 The biggest challenge of late for Herman Miller has been staying  focused on its management practices during the financial meltdown.  Innovative programs often fall by the wayside when corporations are  under severe financial pressures. But Herman Miller seems to regularly  demonstrate that time-tested practices will not lose support.
 As markets contracted in 2009, CEO Walker says he told executives  that the company had to cut costs more, but cutting more people would  probably hurt the company’s future. Walker decided to make other moves  instead. First, he made a decision similar to one made by many other  companies during the downturn. To save money, all employees, executives  included, would be furloughed every other Friday. He also suspended  matching contributions to 401(k) plans.
 Second, he created a new bonus plan called a wage-recovery plan. On  top of the bonus that originated with the Scanlon plan (and that had  been reformulated to use EVA), Walker and his executives proposed to pay  people back for money they lost in the furlough — provided the company  did well. The finance people calculated how much money the company had  to make to sustain itself, without cutting outlays for key investments.  Walker then guaranteed that if the company reached that goal, the plan  would split every additional dollar 50/50 between employees and  shareholders. Walker admits that there were skeptics. The board, he  recalls, asked: “You’re going to pay them when they don’t even work the  day?”
 But Walker argued that in the feeble economy, the main goal was to  keep the business sustainable, not to increase profitability at the  expense of employees. He believed that instead of sapping employees’  energy during a retrenchment, the wage-recovery plan would show them  they should continue to make progress through the management practices  that had sustained the company for so long. Walker says he hoped  employees would reason this way: “Gee, I can continue to innovate in my  work in a way that improves the performance of the business, and if I do  that, I’ll get some of the money back.”
 As it turned out, in the first three months after the plan was  initiated in the spring of 2009, Herman Miller earned more than the  threshold amount. Employees won a wage-recovery bonus worth nearly half  of what they had lost in the furlough. In the second three months,  employees earned no bonus, but in the third, they earned well more than  half of what they lost. Walker says he has no regrets about paying  people for time not worked, as the program generated a lot of goodwill  and credibility for top management.
 Of course, the program has done something else as well: It has  reinforced Herman Miller’s dedication to sticking with its longtime  management practices — in this case, paying bonuses to people for  improving company fortunes, just the way D.J. De Pree did nearly 60  years ago.
 Reprint No. 10206
  Author Profiles:
 - Bill Birchard  is a journalist, author, and book consultant who specializes in  management and the environment. He is at work on a book about Herman  Miller.