Read the complete article on executive assessment. - DDI

already being immersed in as professional
and corporate a setting as possible—without
its really being that, of course.
By <strong>the</strong> time I reached my door,
unpacked my briefcase and belongings, and
readied myself for instructions from Jean
Denuzzio, <strong>the</strong> executive coach and team
leader in charge of <strong>the</strong> assessment exercise,
I was already breaking into a cold sweat.
Granted, in <strong>the</strong> weeks leading up to
my trip, I had pored over my “role” (my
name would be Kelly Myers) and <strong>the</strong>
mock company I would be joining that
day—my first on <strong>the</strong> job—as vice president
of commercial operations for a robotics
manufacturer, GS Robotics Inc., a division of
Global Solutions Inc., in <strong>the</strong> year 2025.
The material was impressively
thorough—reams of financials, company
histories, hierarchy charts, product
descriptions, global breakdowns—enough
serious business concerns and details to
make a former English major and longtime
journalist yearn for some o<strong>the</strong>r approach to
this story than a firsthand account.
Curiosity got <strong>the</strong> best of me, though,
and I decided not to chicken out. I was as
interested in witnessing <strong>the</strong> simulation
assessment-center concept—a method
dating back to <strong>the</strong> U.S. Army’s War Office
Selection Boards and post-World War II
Office of Strategic Services, and later initially
put to corporate use by AT&T—as I was
in seeing how a non-business-schooled
candidate might pull this off.
As unreal as <strong>the</strong> company and its
products were by today’s standards, its
challenges and problems were very real.
Clearly, I thought, some keen business
heads went to great lengths to put
toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong> kind of company background,
organizational design, financial pressures
and concerns, and even petty politics
and scenarios that could test any wouldbe
executive with exceptional MBAgraduate-level
capabilities. Revenue goals
were not being met and some divisions
were becoming obsolete, while not
enough creativity and innovation was
being applied to new-product design,
overseas opportunities and companywide
commitment to shared goals.
Once I was set up, <strong>the</strong> e-mails started
coming, one on top of <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r. I had
fires to put out. Long-time division chiefs
were waging turf wars and I’d be getting
a phone call in precisely 15 minutes (Say
what?!) to consult one bearer of ruffled
fea<strong>the</strong>rs—<strong>the</strong> longtime managing director
of a European company we had acquired a
year before. Cig Chevalier, my boss let me
know in an e-mail, “continues to ignore <strong>the</strong>
commercial possibilities and is reluctant to
share technology” and <strong>the</strong> expertise of his
people with our internationally expanding
corporation. I had some comforting to do:
I was to assure him his company’s name,
Robotiques Astral Chevalier Limitee (RAC),
and reputation would stay intact. I had some
cajoling to do: I had to think of a way we
could tap into his company’s talent without
depleting his ranks and productivity. And
I had some tough managing to do: He
needed to hear from me that being an
active, collaborative part of our company
was not an option anymore. We expected
his cooperation.
With <strong>the</strong> clock ticking and my mouth
drying, I tried combing through <strong>the</strong> company
chart to make sure I had <strong>the</strong> divisions and
players straight.
But wait! O<strong>the</strong>r e-mails were appearing
in my bin. I’d be getting a visitor in 45
minutes (Oh boy!), a disgruntled divisional
director in my unit by <strong>the</strong> name of Marty
Kane, whose manufacturing arm—under
his leadership—needed some stern pointers
on how to adhere to <strong>the</strong> newly aligned
corporate structure.
Seems Marty was hardly inspiring
support for <strong>the</strong> new corporate sales and
marketing efforts that went into effect
about six months ago, and, as a result, <strong>the</strong>
reputation of Commercial Robotics—my
baby—was suffering.
There were o<strong>the</strong>r problems I had to
digest, some PR nightmares surrounding
malfunctions and mixed signals in certain
robots—including <strong>the</strong> “English-speaking”
domestic model sold to a wealthy
Frenchman. According to various news
reports, <strong>the</strong> robot mistook <strong>the</strong> English
word “shoe” for <strong>the</strong> French “chou,” which
means cabbage. The customer had ordered
cabbage for dinner. The robot cooked and
served up his shoes.
The name “GS Robotics” was all over a
snide but humorous account in a French
daily newspaper. (These guys at DDI thought
of everything.) What was dawning on me
through <strong>the</strong> course of my information
onslaught was <strong>the</strong> clear and pressing need
for better synergy between technical and
marketing teams throughout <strong>the</strong> company,
and <strong>the</strong> potential this had to boost sagging
margins. How I would translate and oversee
this was ano<strong>the</strong>r matter.
Long story short, I got through my
meetings and phone calls, and even
schmoozed my way through presenting a
business plan to my “boss,” Terry Turner, at
<strong>the</strong> end of <strong>the</strong> day—something I, personally,
had never written in my life until <strong>the</strong>n.
I basically summoned up all <strong>the</strong>
research, organizational, intuitive and
persuasive skills in my arsenal to get
through it. Granted, I was in over my head
in terms of viable bottom-line solutions
an executive might drum up to solve
some very real and pressing business
challenges. But, according to my boss,
who patiently sat through my defense, I
had some sound ideas on ways we might
improve communication and cooperation
between divisions, and between our U.S.
and overseas sites. (Or maybe he was just
being kind.)
When he left, I put down my notes and
pen and uttered <strong>the</strong> only remaining word in
my brain: “Wow.” Being brand new to this
experience, which would be hard to translate
to <strong>the</strong> world of journalism anyway, I came
away knowing <strong>the</strong>y just saw everything—
my strengths, weaknesses, knowledge,
temperament and threshold for multitasking
under pressure.
I also knew that, had I been vying for a
top-level executive post or promotion, I would
have just been through about as <strong>complete</strong> an
appraisal as <strong>the</strong>re could be.
The business knowledge and
improvisational skills of <strong>the</strong> role-players
also left me humbled and fairly speechless.
They were so locked into <strong>the</strong>ir characters, I
wasn’t about to budge from mine. There was
absolutely nothing relaxed about any of it.
Behind <strong>the</strong> Scenes
A lot goes into what I had just
experienced, and what about 2,650 executive
candidates experience each year in any of
DDI’s 75 offices in 26 countries throughout
<strong>the</strong> world, says Chairman and CEO William
C. Byham.
Key to <strong>the</strong> DDI process, and its
strongest differentiator, he says, is <strong>the</strong> “data
integration” factor. For every person put
through this type of grilling, three different
assessors are listening to different parts of his
or her performance and making his or her
own qualitative and quantitative evaluations.
“Then <strong>the</strong> assessors get toge<strong>the</strong>r and
‘sell <strong>the</strong>ir evaluations,’ ” which include
scores from one to five on a whole string of
competencies as well as general arguments
for or against certain strengths, says
Byham. The group <strong>the</strong>n interprets those
competencies in terms of <strong>the</strong> business’ goals
and <strong>the</strong> job, or promotion, <strong>the</strong> person is vying
for. Real candidates get psychological tests
as well, to fur<strong>the</strong>r confirm, or deny, <strong>the</strong>ir
fit—something I was spared.
All assessment firms—experts tell me
<strong>the</strong>re are a few dozen worldwide, including
<strong>the</strong> smaller, regional sites—put <strong>the</strong>ir own
spin on <strong>the</strong> approach. Minneapolis-based
Personnel Decisions International, <strong>the</strong> only
o<strong>the</strong>r assessment firm on <strong>the</strong> global scale of
DDI, uses what Vice President and General
Manager R.J. Heckman calls <strong>the</strong> “anchoredrating-scale”
approach—even longer lists
of calibrated standards each individual is