Hal Stern's thoughts on the economy, software, services, technology, and snowmen. Hal Stern: The Morning Snowman

In addition to retracing the paths of my salad days I also had a speaking part at the Princeton University Career Options for Engineers panel. Most of the evening was spent fielding questions from undergrads. My favorite question was directed to Connie Cromwell, who is the Chief Engineer of the New York City Subway system: "How do you deal with bureaucracy?"

Connie gave an elegant answer, reflecting the exquisite coolness of her job -- trains, tunnels, massive amounts of electricity, magstripe cards, and 100 years of history. But I couldn't let the issue sit there -- I chimed in with my own view that bureaucracy, as we know it, is a dying art.

Bureaucracy exists where there are monopolies in paper, process or power. Replace the paper with the network, make the process transparent (and therefore accountable) and balance the power through competition, and the pointy-haired boss moments simply go away.

When is the last time you filled out a paper form? The New Jersey Division of Motor Vehicles, a long time proponent of serialized line-waiting, allows you to renew your license, registration and even protest EZPass violations online. No papers, no bureaucracy, because it's immediate. The larger corporate trend accelerating the death of bureaucracy is outsourcing non-core tasks to specific service providers.

As soon as competition is created for a task, simple minimal competence no longer suffices. Those charged with fixing payroll mistakes, or taking on the role of Raiders of the Lost HMO Form, have to perform up to a service level agreement created by their employee (a service provider) and the outsourcing company (your employer). Failure to perform frequently results in failure to renew. The monopoly of the bureaucrat has been broken by the networked business.

The key enabler to this trend is not so much the pervasiveness of the Internet and comfort with browser-based forms, but the networked identity mechanisms that let businesses carve out back office functions. If I can uniquely identify myself to my company's HR systems, and those systems uniquely tell our payroll processor the parameters for check generation and direct deposit, then we can take our payroll to the best performing, lowest cost, highest value provider.

"World Cup of Hockey"
the hat is great swag;
for it came coupled
with a matching gym bag.

But overbooked times call
for desperate measures;
our puck fundraiser
needed personalized treasures.

I called Dr. Ed,
who knows several Devils;
and hoped that he'd help
crank up our raffling levels.

So Jamie Langenbrunner
signed my hat for donation,
fulfilling our team's
tricky tray obligation

The very next night
we gathered twenty score;
Jamie's sign was hotter
than the same from Bobby Orr.

As the tickets piled up
my lack of hat I lamented;
Secret plans to return it
I quietly fomented.

Two sheets of tickets
the transaction transpired;
I'd use Andrew Jacksons
for my most hat desired

My son made deposits
of a Hamilton or two,
with hopes of an autograph
or a stick that was new.

"Time for the drawings,"
the crowd grew hysterical;
our raffle stubs were clutched
in their order, numerical.

"Eight one three six"
sounded sweeter than nectar,
for my son had landed
the coveted CCM Vector

Then he won again! A stick,
three tapes and socks that soak stink,
our prizes had taken us
from red to black ink!

Despite our collection
of gear so financial,
what I really wanted
had sentiment substantial.

When it drew time,
results were most quick,
an "eight one three six"
scored my returning hat trick.

So ended our night,
on the air spirits floatin';
driving home with the mark
of a fine Minnesotan.

Such a lid! Indelibly signed
by a Brunner who's Langen,
and so with great pride
on my melon it's hangin'.

With great apologies to Dr. Seuss and greater thanks to Dr. Ed, Jamie Langenbrunner, Kelly DiNorcia and the New Jersey Devils Youth Hockey Club