eight
At about half past eight on Monday morning, Christine and I met on our strategy sofa again, coffees and croissants in hand. Outside the window the sun was striking the Thames through broken cloud cover.
“How was your weekend?” she asked.
“Good, thanks. Yours?”
“Likewise.”
“So we’re seeing Graham at four this afternoon. He wants us to say why we think the company is not already achieving his Promise and what, in principle, needs to be done about it. I spent some time after we finished on Friday thinking through everything, including the question about my role in the WE community. I made some progress, but don’t have the answer yet. I’ve never produced a strategy that fundamentally questioned my own purpose in life, especially one that’s an inverted Trojan Horse.”
It was a really clumsy link but I wanted to tell her about my Trojan Horse brainwave.
“Pardon?”
“IT. Inverted Trojan...