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December 26, 2006

KM and "the Need To Know" Basis

If you're a provider of knowledge, then blogging, social networking, globalization, and other developments ought to be so liberating. The payoff: orders of magnitude more audience for you.

But somehow, it's turning out to just be disappointing. The downside: these changes are actually more work! They have made it far more important to understand how information can travel and how it gets contextualized as "knowledge". Anything you send out might get more abuse or misuse than use.

AND what's worse, the fun of being exclusive isn't there. It's all... less grown up. You have to regress to the old "party in your head" instinct of having more people involved just for the sake of having more people involved. Otherwise, it turns out that you're working a lot harder to be noticed (as opposed to merely exposed), and right when you are noticed, a bunch of people just like you get noticed too -- and it's not even clear that they worked hard for it; why should you?

I'm not happy with all this freedom. Call it an open market if you like, but when information is free, only bums will have information.

All this unrestrained circulation reduces your knowledge to information. Ouch. What are you gonna do?

Well, some knowledge is really, in the first place, just information that is appropriate to a needed decision. In fact, it's not the provider that gave the knowledge, it's the needy recipient that makes it out of the information. In this case, they don't need your stinking knowledge; mere "data" would suffice. What's finally being called "knowledge" here is simply an awareness of facts -- not the provider's awareness, but the recipient's. [Note: clearly, you have to pick your audience.]

Gaining awareness and gaining facts are bundled together in that thought, but they are rudely separated in action. Unless the facts seem appropriate, gaining them is not what amounts to "knowledge" for us. We don't value awareness of facts that we don't care about. Without the value, we don't think of the awareness as knowledge.

This indicates that, because of a difference in context, one person's knowledge always risks being merely another person's information. [Note: send the context along with the info.]

Of course, there are conventions formed to brand certain classes of information more "absolutely" as knowledge. "Instructions" come to mind. Providers who subscribe to the convention enjoy some confidence that their information exchange really is knowledge transfer, because they are aware, in advance, of how it is likely to be used. But we know that it's sometimes pretty hard to understand instructions; after getting them we can sometimes still feel like we don't know anything.

The thought here is that the information may originate as knowledge, but in transit it is just information again, and then it arrives in the recipient's processing where it becomes knowledge again -- or not...

In other words, knowledge is not a material -- it's an effect. It's a condition, different from information in the same way that being amused is different from a joke.

Here's no joke. An article in the "news" says that 2% of the world's population owns over 50% of the world wealth. Some may say that they've heard it before; but this time it comes from research. The warm aroma of validity wafts across the counter, and where before if we thought there was only opinion (and not even convention), now there's "knowledge" again... this time, our own willingness to believe. Frankly, this is the kind of information that many in positions of authority would not like to have circulated. The whammy is doubled by the further news (says Anuradha Mittal of the California-based Oakland Institute) that "unfettered free trade tends to benefit the wealthy at the expense of the poor".

Speaking colloquially, is it safe for everyone to know this? Or, asked more along the lines of the points made earlier, should this info be passed around strictly on a "need to know" basis? When you think about what people might do with this information, you can understand why some authorities don't want people to "know it". (gasp! say it ain't so!)

This makes us ask about what's going on when managers "manage knowledge". What's the deal? [Parents of preteens, don't get cocky. What follows is not what you're thinking already.]

Here, the key aspect of management is the designation "information of note", which we observe is just like the police designation "person of interest" -- i.e., not quite a suspect, but not quite scott free either. Hey, you there, stay in town, and be ready to answer questions.

Rounding up persons "of interest" is kind of a stretch of our tolerance, but its a practical strategy for the authorities to acquire the person that they eventually really want, so that they can do what they really want to do: charge someone!

Paralleling that, perhaps the real basis of practical knowledge management is strategic roundup of information . But what makes that containment (content!) strategic is not the information that's rounded up; rather, it's what you eventually get people to do with it. -- which is what makes it interesting.

Net: the beginnings of knowledge management are in organizing people to use information in a certain way. Then you have to aim the information providers at those uses. [Note: oh yeah, libraries..]

Posted by Malcolm Ryder at 11:10 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 23, 2006

Street Cred versus the Uncommon Knowledge

In the world of expertise, knowledge is power; but power isn't enough. Knowledge and expertise go hand-in-hand, but if not for marketing, the value of knowledge could be largely undetermined.

Before we go on with this, prime your pump with this holiday sampler of pieces from Jack Vinson at Knowledge Jolt With Jack. Jack writes about knowledge management, personal effectiveness, theory of constraints and more. He's offered a quick tour that you can take at your leisure, in handy categories. Definitely do the first one, if your'e squeezed for time:

Expertise:
http://blog.jackvinson.com/archives/2006/11/22/clay_shirky_on_expertise_again.html

Expertise locators:
http://blog.jackvinson.com/archives/2006/06/23/expertise_locators_on_the_brain.html

The KM keystroke:
http://blog.jackvinson.com/archives/2006/09/06/f1_as_the_knowledge_management_key.html

Definitions:
http://blog.jackvinson.com/archives/2006/08/29/km_definitions_from_my_perspective.html

Jumping into the fray, here's my pitch:
Knowledge is content, but by itself it isn't product. In the markets, "expertise" is the packaging used for knowledge transfer. Its point is to convert contents into applications. Applications! Now there's a product.

This is why it actually makes sense to hire experts; that's how you, as the consumer, access the knowledge. And yet there still might be an issue of customer satisfaction; what if the expertise doesn't bring the knowledge you really wanted? It's not that it couldn't -- just that it didn't. Is that aggravating, or what!

This ultimately highlights the issue of value: when we're shopping for expertise, we're shopping for knowledge delivery, not necessarily for the knowledge itself. In the end, the credibility of an expert is usually about his track record of delivery. It's nice if that credential is based on delivering under real-world pressure, not just under pressure of exams. But let's not get distracted: we know the knowledge is out there in many places, and we want the credential to tell us the best place to get it.

This helps explain the difference between credibility and authority. To the point, we can think of authority in terms of "authorship" -- nothing less than the virtue of having defined the knowledge in the first place and thereby being its master. Authority is at a different location than credibility in the knowledge supply chain. It's not the distributor or the retailer, it's the manufacturer or producer.

Consequently, the more we are determined to get right to the knowledge and skip the packaging, the more we're predisposed to cut out the middle man: experts.

Of course, cutting out the middle man leaves us with a situation:
- we either have to do more work (shopping), or
- we have to accept that what we buy may not be the best of breed.

In the first case, we probably want to be lucky; and in the second, we probably want to be... smart!

My favorite practical stance on that is all about being able to accept what happens.
- In the former case, it's the first rule of shopping -- After you've bought it, stop shopping.
- In the latter case, it's the second rule of shopping -- You're not perfect, but you're perfect for me.

This practicality isn't very sexy. Being your own expert is just not the same as being someone else's. But the good news is, not being someone else's expert isn't going to hamper you in getting your hands on authentic knowledge.

The bad news is that you might be competing with other people's experts, to get your hands on it first, before they obfuscate it with packaging.

In the Web Do Dot Oh-ver era, the biggest problem is getting faked out by electro-powered shoppers and distributors posing as authorities. Be forewarned, they might be merely experts.

Well, gotta run; my unauthorized autobiography is overdue at the editor's.

Posted by Malcolm Ryder at 5:18 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 18, 2006

The 3-D's of Change

Despite the obvious allure of innovation and efficiency, the two best reasons to change are not to "be different" nor to "escape dead ends."

But they are close. The two best reasons are to "be better" and to "create new options." In other words, what's the point of getting different without knowing how it would be better, and to figure along with that, what's the point of having more options without knowing how they lead to the difference?

Yet change does not guarantee those outcomes. To the extent that change is "driven" by reasons, change is about developing the new means for opportunity; it is not the end in itself.

Thoroughly thinking through the positioning and requirements for change might take some research, which might take some time; because time is often scarce and precious, gravitate towards the "fast tracks" of lessons learned and "best practices" about changes undertaken elsewhere or before.

Emulating such models of change management makes plenty of sense, and yet it remains empirically evident that two organizations trying to change in the same fashion may get two very different results. No real surprise: effective change is an environmental shift, and why should two different environments respond alike to a given model of change?

It's not that they couldn't.

Differences will occur because activities and environments have to form together into functional relationships, and this coherence will feature the detail level of chemistry rather than of carpentry. (Take note, ersatz change agents.) The specifics of cultivating two different environments may call for more risk, tenacity or tolerance in one environment versus another, not to mention time.

But the real key to a successful change lies in getting a grip on its entire lifecycle, which has three major phases that are about how the organization agrees to transform:
- adapt...
- adopt...
- approve.

As a true cycle, it has the property of re-iterating by having the approval phase directly influence the adapt phase.
But the individual phases themselves can be hard to progress.

Without tackling "risk" and "resources", the adapt phase won't have an output. Here, the "support" scenario must be described.

Next, the adopt phase can't mature without good marketing of how the stakeholders' own performance in the new scheme will be evaluated. "Roles" have to be declared and accepted. They will rely on support.

And the approval phase relies on confidence and clarity in how people will know that the intended effects are being realized. "Transparency" and feedback needs to be universally established, according to the roles.

Although driving a successful change has this cyclical buildup of viability, real change in action always shows all three phases occurring simultaneously. This makes them each able to affect each other at all times, more like "dimensions" of change maturity, not just phases of the change implementation.

So, as you might imagine improving on each dimension, the probability of sustainable success with the change gets higher. On the other hand, you can see that failing changes probably stem from weakness in one or more dimensions, which causes imbalances and discontinuities. The many sources of rigidity, resistance and disagreement are where the gremlins reside, undermining (respectively) adaptation, adoption and approval. But they are the flip side of a coin on which support, roles and visibility are the critical redeemables.

Map out your change effort, dimensionalize it, and see whether your efforts to manage the change are as rationally aligned as you think.

Posted by Malcolm Ryder at 7:01 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 17, 2006

Complicated vs. Complex: Hitting Moving Targets with Moving Parts

Coordination is the essential architecture of execution. It converts things that are merely cooperative into things that are made for each other. But don't take our word for it -- ever try to hit a pitch?

To hit a moving target, you aim for the impact point, not for the target. But to do that, there are two things to be done.

One, select the impact point (!) ...
Two, align with the target's trajectory. And that alignment requires that you:
- Predict the trajectory, and...
- Calibrate your attitude for engagement.

What is "attitude"? Effectively, it's the "Strike Zone" of your stance. It comes from the coordination that we've just called alignment to the trajectory.

Ordinarily, the lingo of baseball thinks of the strike zone as something the pitcher has to aim for; but in our case the important thing is that the batter creates a zone in which the batter is more able and more likely to strike the ball. We notice that the batter does this through his "stance": the combination of body posture, attention, and decision.

You can see the batter's attitude when he's standing at the plate, and the attitude generates his strike zone.
In particular, we can see the batter aligning his feet, knees, shoulders, arms, head, and so forth... All those parts are always there, but they don't mean much until the batter decides how they will be "together" for the heat of the moment of the swing... Before the swing, the attitude creates the potential -- the effective position versus the target; in effect, the attitude is the potential.

Potential is what we want, so let's break it down again, from the overall attitude to the elemental parts. Top down:
- Atttitude is, in effect, the timing, range and coverage area to which parts are together committed.
- Commitment is the state and fit, or condition, established of the parts, for the duty
- Condition is the presentation of the elements - i.e., the the quality of the coincidence of the parts.

To start out, the batter brings all the parts, but the parts do not simply present themselves; instead, the batter brings them in a certain way to the occasion this time, beginning the coordination that develops fully on up through commitment into attitude.

Our common language for describing that hierarchy of coordination reflects that we already know it: bottom up, we look at the batter and can say things like "he's brought his best stuff today", or "he's really putting it all together now", or "it's obvious that he really wants it"... in other words, we know that his overall readiness involves his technique, condition and commitment. And when we see him having a bad day, we might know that it's (respectively) because of injury or fatigue, poor choices, or lack of desire.

Said even superficially, the combination of condition and commitment sounds like an obvious formula for explaining the difference between probable and improbable success. It's what we already know from experience. So as managers, where there is a need to enhance that probability, we trust that it's important to know what they really look like, what makes them work. But what do they really look like?

At the core of the matter, the parts you bring to the occasion don't just make things happen because they are there together. Their combination might be merely complicated, or it might be valuably complex. When "complicated", the parts are there, but their coordination is low, leaving the value of their combination uncertain for the anticipated moment that matters. When "complex", their coordination is high, as their respective characteristics are all oriented to the cause in a consistent and focused way.

We know that complication can be a show-stopper; but sometimes it's just unavoidable, so typically we try to minimize it or make the best of it. This might be necessary, but it's not enough. More importantly, some effects are not possible through "simplicity" -- it might take a complex formula to get the right result. Increasingly, we need complexity.

In complication, the coordination of the coincidence of the parts looks different than in complexity. As seen in the comparison below, the possible value of the parts has been taken to a higher level of benefit in complexity than in complication -- and in managing execution, we want to aim for having the benefits to call on as our resources in the heat of the moment:

While even in complicated circumstances the parts can offer some benefits, they are not as potent as the parts are found to be in driving the value of complexity.

In complexity, as shown in the following illustration (click to enlarge), the parts will drive more. It amounts to an important overall difference:
- in complicated circumstances, including the parts still leaves variability that may or may not be useful.
- in complex circumstances, involving the parts generates agility that is probably useful.

The formulas for doing that are not offered here. While one can argue that the illustration is not proof of anything in itself, it is reflective of the difference in characteristics as surveyed in cases where complexity has been found behind good execution, versus complication being discovered behind poor execution.

To improve on complication in our situations, our problem is to look at the condition and commitment of whatever "parts" or elements we've brought to it, and change them so that we have a valuable complexity instead. By improving the quality of their availability and potency, we get a better strike zone...


Posted by Malcolm Ryder at 6:34 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 12, 2006

How Much Is Enough?

Our colleague Charles H. Green at Trusted Advisor helps to reinforce some strong themes found around here in his comment on the very recent Archestra post, "Performance Recap".

One of his points is that measurement is probably overrated as a prerequisite for management. Enjoy his examples as soon as you can, but here I'll add a few more points to continue both the recap and the line of thought.

How can we define measurement, management and performance simply enough to see their absolute difference from each other but just as easily see how they might relate?

A simple version of that is as follows:
- measurement is a form of description that intends to identify a relative state.
- performance is a describable effect , of an effort that intends to create progress towards a target state.
- management is a form of influence that intends to establish a relative orderliness.

Measurement doesn't cause orderliness; it merely can support orderliness by giving management some grounds for a model of orderliness to pursue. But management can easily use other sources to develop models. Interestingly, though, it is hard to imagine any source of a model that does not essentially require description, so the difference is most likely in the forms of description that are used to assert the basis of the model. Gossip, for example, can be posed as an alternative to measurement. Plenty of people model their efforts to influence things, by relying on gossip.

And performance -- well, it can be "good" or "bad" or somewhere along that spectrum. The point is that it is not necessarily either, and the notion of performance requires only the ability to identify where the effect of effort fits relative to the ambition associated with the effort. Interestingly, this helps to point out that the actual effectiveness of an effort might be strong, but if that "effectiveness" isn't of the right flavor, it won't in most cases be evaluated as "good performance"...

As for management: we most often work under the assumption that some kind of orderliness, in our environment and/or our effort, is more likely to result in progress from our effort. Yet in art, in learning (not "teaching"), and in play, we also know that this orderliness might be very slight and it might not even be from a desirable mode of influence -- to wit, "the method in the madness" -- yet progress is actually just as intentional, plentiful and expected as it is in any routinely "managed" work of other kinds.

What Charles Green (and much of the thought on Archestra as well) points out is that management can influence progress without being concerned about measurement.

On the other hand, it's quite difficult to use the notion of performance without using measurement. Here, the real issue is not whether measurement is involved, but rather what kind of measurement is involved.

Having responsibility for progress creates too much anxiety for us to get relaxed about having "unmeasured progress" -- and yet unmeasured progress happens all the time -- both with and without management. We just don't want to take the chance, normally, that desirable progress will occur without management, and then we use measurement to prove that the management effort being made is worth the trouble.

So, having reached that punchline, there's nothing fundamentally wrong with liking measurement. It's one way that we can try to increase the amount of time we spend being both lucky and smart. This doesn't mean that other ways, such as relationship building and collaboration, wouldn't be just as helpful or even moreso. That's also management at work, and it probably has a much longer history of practice and success. Let's call in some high-performance historians and check it out, when we can.

Posted by Malcolm Ryder at 11:38 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

December 8, 2006

Who's Your Daddy Now?

Safe to say, many colleagues of ours are professionals in the area of leadership studies, leadership coaching, and (within performance management) leadership execution.

After more than twenty years of exposure and osmosis, we should be able to face the big question, what do we know about leadership now? Is there some conclusive shortlist of findings that frame the path to success, or at least that warn off people unlikely to succeed?

The question is not trivial, because twenty years of research findings amount to the observation that leadership is a condition that results from a huge variety of possible combinations of circumstance, predispositions and group motivation. One might say, fairly, that regardles of the style and occasion of attempts at leadership, the essential truth is that leadership occurs. Most of our excitement about it is in trying to figure out how to make it recur -- in particular, on demand.

Consequently, studying leadership is like studying the weather. Slap together two or three Crays, and see what conditions can be patterned that suggest we could make rain where we want it by seeding clouds today. The brute force of data crunching is certainly less daunting now than twenty years ago, so although there is no evidence that scientific study of leadership has actually generated mo' betta leaders, there's plenty of evidence that more people know how to describe their deliberate pursuit and strategy for becoming a leader.

That's compelling and all, at least because while we still don't have standard edition well-worn copies of Leadership For Dummies (well, I should fact-check that!) being passed around, there seems to be some strategy for almost any personality. To wit, the advice industry for ersatz leadership and repentance -- and statistically, perhaps, better chance of more good leaders.

Or not.

It must be said that the staffers of the repentance wing, which increasingly consist mostly of expensive therapists and inexpensive jail wardens, appear to be well suited to their jobs with very little certified expertise in "leadership" per se. However, at least in the Western cultures, they both know quite a lot about authority, which is an excellently revealing indicator of the noise factor in leadership.

What would we say is the "signal" in leadership? Simple: it is respect. Isn't it obvious that respect breeds authority whereas authority only incidentally breeds respect? Avoiding the easy mistake of confusing deference and respect, the answer is "Yes". Authority figures are almost wholly dependent on the circumstances of their authority, and that authority may be entirely meaningless in another context. Whereas respect turns out to be quite portable, and is even a pretty effective form of social currency. How common it is, that an individual who has or who quickly earns respect can sprout as the leader in even a wholly unexpected and/or unprecedented circumstance. (Readers of other Archestra content might also recognize this as a distinction between competency and technique, where competency points squarely at the ability to rise to the occasion, while technique is just a method that might be chosen in the heat of the moment by the competency.)

So, rather than obsess about controlling circumstances so that authority can blossom and survive, our real issue is to understand the ways and means of earning respect.

This means that if we look at leadership as an outcome for which a measurable supporting effort may be evaluated as a performance, then we might also stress certain behaviors that earn respect as being the key performance indicators, and the appropriateness of those behaviors to their occasions as being the critical success factors. Yet in the end there will always be the noise of authority, noise that most likely stems from the distorting influence of politics. Recognizing politics as a competitor to the competency of "respect" is certainly an interesting perspective on the prospects for leadership, but the point of that observation is to ask that politics not be used as a substitute for coaching and measuring leadership. We need a better signal-to-noise ratio, and we won't get one by overemphasizing politics.

Posted by Malcolm Ryder at 4:44 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 6, 2006

Performance Recap

Recently I ran across the phrase "You can't manage what you can't specify" - which is a very nice iteration of the central role of definitions in the sphere of assessing performance.

If you'd like to run across it too, see Paul Allen's book, "Service Orientation: Winning Strategies and Best Practices" from Cambridge University Press (www.cambridge.org).

To celebrate the phrase further, here is a skeletal recap of ideas posted throughout Archestra on the subject of performance management:

1- Performance management presumes performance measurement, but measurement is worthless unless it measures the right things.

2- Definitions of performance are conventionally all about identifying how well execution towards a target went. Picking good targets in the first place is of course more important than any followup form of execution.

3- Targets are meaningful when they mark the demonstrable generation of significant differences (or "values" in Archestra parlance); the significance must have an even better definition than does the targets.

4- For a difference to be significant, there must be some context, usually a model, that invests particular observed conditions (and changes of them) with meaning. Therefore, the model is the most fundamental thing in the assessment of "performance".

Example:

In a "re-building" year, a team may lose many more games than it wins -- but the pertinent model is not wins-&-losses; instead it is "increases in competency".

But in a year expected to be a "contending" year, the pertinent model is "wins and losses attributable to the game plan" -- an entirely different model.

So a rebuilding team may show excellent performance against its targets; but it might be nowhere near performing like a contender.

Finally (or in fact, right from the beginning), trying to practice "performance management" without practicing "change management" is a joke.

Posted by Malcolm Ryder at 4:47 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

December 1, 2006

The CMDB as a Knowledge Base

An executive overview.

In the front-office world of a business, the holy grail of a "360-degree view of the customer" is already old hat.

Well, much of what is now happening in the middle office -- the IT world -- revolves around the criticality of utilizing a "configuration management database", or "CMDB". This database is the key to a 360-degree view of any IT asset. In particular, it is a centralized repository of information about how items are defined and situated as components of the information technology infrastructure on which the business runs.

As a singularly authoritative (or "master") source of information about the infrastructure's components, the database content is very involved in the documentation and decision support for almost any business process workflow requiring IT enablement. But what is it about the components that the CMDB describes?

Typically the components for which the CMDB holds descriptions are referred to as "configurations". A quick survey of the CMDB literature shows that would-be CMDB users can get mired in great controversy about what consitutes a configuration, because there are so many ways to segment a chunk of infrastructure IT and legitimately call it a component. After all, the notion of a component necessarily refers to the idea of some larger entity that the component helps to make up. The problem is that any entity's distinctive identity must be defined with a boundary around its scale, complexity and purpose -- but just as any category may be said to be a subcategory of something else, any entity may be a component of some other entity. Thus it may be unclear where to draw a boundary, create an object, and call it a "configuration". The question always begged is "of what entity is this item a component?"

This makes it very difficult to decide what to include and exclude -- the CMDB's catalog of entities should be neither too general nor meaninglessly specific. How many levels of categorization and subcategorization (so to speak) must the CMDB contain?

In the below, we skip all of that confusion by looking at "things" in a more objective way. First, we take the notion of configuration not as a noun but instead mainly as a verb that has a result. The focus is on the motive for action. That is, nothing in the IT infrastructure is there except through the labor of making it fit into the company of other things -- and our first emphasis is on the labor that takes place to respond to the perceived need for including something that wasn't there before. This allows us to think of a "configuration" as the output of a system of functions, and the CMDB first of all collects facts about that output (and other ones, similar or related, in the same infrastructure ) -- as accounted for by its system.

But why collect the information? The primary reason is to put management of these outputs on a foundation of knowledge instead of on hunch. The CMDB's content can fuel knowledge by organizing its information into the three main contexts that matter to the difference between being managed and unmanaged.

Managed conditions always compare the actual against the planned and the authorized. This indicates three forms of knowledge that the CMDB would support: respectively, models, analyses and histories.

The essential CMDB content will be descriptions of states generated by the functions (as illustrated above), to be evaluated in these three contexts.

However, management tends to root itself in the posture of "operations" -- with the difference being that operations are mainly about organizational responsibilities while functions are about activity. This distinction is more profoundly yet simply identified in the hierarchy of management as shown in the next table. Top-down, starting from a focus on business value, the table rows address the questions "Why are we doing something?"; "how are we going to do it?"; and, "what are we going to do it with?":..

It is easy, then, to recognize the same top-down pattern in management's attempt to associate the needs of the business with the infrastructure that would address it.

Arguably, tactics are derived from respect for the customer's agenda, and functions leverage the offerings of suppliers -- so the primary challenge for differentiated management is in the operational dimension. Not surprisingly, Operations lays out responsibility areas in a way that tends to generally reflect functions. For example, the operational chain of development/implementation/administration/support is, on the surface, an echo of the functional flow of build/release/monitor/maintain. But Operations must intentionally, not coincidentally, associate its responsibility areas with the functions it can govern, if the dynamic is to be called "management". Operations must decide what functions will "execute the infrastructure" and how.

Consequently, what management wants from the CMDB is content that helps construct the artifacts of management that should populate the following framework. In this framework, captured knowledge explains how Operations currently puts functions into the context of the bigger management picture -- the one that generates business value. That overall knowledge-based governance looks to the CMDB to fortify its perspective and acuity on what to change, when and why.

In the above article:

Posted by Malcolm Ryder at 11:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack