Product vs. Process #2: Low and High

My Girls

On April 3, 1975, Gerald Ford began Operation BabyLift to remove orphans from Vietnam and bring them to the United States.  A year earlier, my parents had asked me and my older brother if we would like a younger sister, and explained to us that she would come from another country, not from our Mommy.  I was seven years old.  We said yes and Mom and Dad began the process to adopt a young Vietnamese orphan.  We were approved and knew her name and had pictures, and were eager to meet her.

When Saigon fell and the last children left, she was not with them.  I have no idea what happened to her.

It's difficult to explain, but this left a hole that took three decades to fill.  I love my brothers and know that they have my back no matter what.  The memories we have could...well...take a lifetime to go through.  But I wanted a little sister--a girl who needed me, who I could defend, who I could love and care for in the way of a sibling and yet who was not a boy.  My parents raised my brothers and I to be chivalrous and so the idea of being able to pour myself into a young orphan who had otherwise lost everything in a war-torn country resonated deep in my soul, and thinking of it still brings tears to my eyes.

In 1998 I gave up dating and decided to write a novel instead.  By the eleventh draft the novel had transformed from being a book about me into being one about God, and so had my life.  Then God brought me Mandi. 

At some point Mandi asked me if I wanted any children.  Silently thinking about my absent little sister, I answered.  "I want one girl," I told her, "and all the boys it takes to get her."  Then God brought me Alex.

Mandi complains that I treat her too much like a sister, and I usually respond by pulling her pony tail or snapping her bra strap.  Alex sometimes echoes the complaint, but I can usually reduce her to a giggly mess with a few well placed fingers.

I tell you this because my life is so full right now, and I am grateful for every piece of it, especially the two women that God brought me once He helped me realize that the hole was a God-shaped hole, not a sister-shaped hole.  I love them more than life and would gladly stop breathing for them.  Frankly, sometimes when I'm watching them I just do, and have to remind myself to take the next breath because otherwise they may miss me.

Now on to the simplest of the four quadrants to execute, the

Low Product, High Process Innovations.

The best example I have of this type of innovation is a company run by a friend of mine that uses unique process to turn the green stuff that grows in ponds into ethanol.  The raw material is free, and their process has a significant cost advantage over the other ways (think corn) to make ethanol.  However, once the ethanol is made, its just like any other ethanol and is simply sold on the commodities market.  They hardly need a salesman other than to take orders and handle the logistics.  The equipment expense is high, but easy to justify, and the only real risk is execution risk.  They have chosen to take the route of building a company, and so the additional risk is that of financing the company.  Because they are selling into the commodities market, there is no application development needed--their ethanol burns just like anyone else's.

Another example is a synthetic diamond company that has just moved to Greenville. The diamonds are grown in an intense plasma gas (think the inside of a fluorescent light bulb or neon lamp).  Initially, they are dropping their diamonds straight into the jewelry market, and are getting jewelry prices.  They think their big market is going to come when they can make really big diamonds--think an ultra thin scalpel for surgeons--for industrial and medical applications.  Initially, the commodity diamond market requires little sales effort--the sales channels exist and will accept the product.  If the process ever advances to the point of having a differentiated product, they will have to do application development to find ways to take advantage of their unique capabilities.  The R&D is currently focused entirely on making the process better and more efficient, but the product today is indistinguishable from diamonds found in the ground.  There is a large capital expense, and the risk is primarily a technical execution risk.  They also have chosen to build a company, and so the financial risk is significant. 

Let's take the example for a second of either of these companies choosing to sell equipment. They would be able to get revenue quickly as they sold lab machines to companies and universities, then sold pilot lines and finally production lines.  The financial risk would be mitigated, but in the end they would not own the whole market, and so the choice to sell equipment versus keep the whole shabang for yourself is a difficult choice and one that has to be made very early, often before the market can give a full indication of what the answer should be.  It is a simple trade-off of financial risk versus financial gain.  For those of you who think that selling equipment is a cop-out, in my industry at least the equipment sales is one of the most profitable parts of the industry, and also durable, but requires constant innovation.  Some >$1B examples are Reifenhauser and Oerkilon Barmag.

I presented some of this information to a group of interns at Clemson last week, and had a grand time talking with the students about their projects and how they fit into this framework.  A few students showed an interest in entrepreneurship, and we talked for another hour.  I was struck by their innocence and enthusiasm and I wished I had better advice for them.

My Girls, Reprise

A few weeks ago I was driving to meet Mandi and Alex and Giles at a food pantry where we serve once a month.  As I pulled up to the last stoplight, there was a car stopped in the road in front of me with an elderly lady inside, looking frustrated behind the wheel of her impotent transportation.  I was already late, so I pulled over to help and I and another gentleman pushed the car out of the road.  Half an hour later, this same lady walked into the pantry to pick up some food (my alibi arrived!), and I offered to drive her back to her car.  On the way, I learned that she is the widow of a Baptist preacher, and lives in a commune of sorts reserved for preachers' widows, and serves at an orphanage next door.  Her story touched me, and made me glad that I am able to participate even in a small way.  I made sure AAA showed up, and she went off to touch other people.

Life is full of holes--like the one created by my absent little sister or this lady's deceased husband--and also our being filled up, and filling up others.  I find that the more I can give--the more tickling, the more smiling, the more advice or silent listening or prayers or help I can give--the more I am filled up.  And the more I am filled up, the more I can give.  The only way out of this virtuous cycle is to focus on the holes, to refuse to let God fill them up and allow them to possess us.  This world, absent God, has a gravity that pulls our minds and our hearts to the holes, the empty places caused by one hurt or another.  That also makes me sad, and makes me want to make sure that the two girls that God has given to my care have their holes filled up, because they are both very, very good at pouring into others.