Mission statements. Have you ever read one of these things and thought to yourself, “Boy, I’m sure glad I read that — it cleared up a whole lot of confusion for me”?
Me neither. And yet they continue to proliferate.
To understand why, it might be helpful to unearth their genealogy. It’s been well documented that an early cave dweller picked up a stone and carved the very first mission statement on a cave wall while a Tyrannosaurus rex peered in for a snack. The statement read as follows: “Stayin’ alive. Stayin’ alive. Ah, ah, ah, ah, stay—”
Chomp!
Sadly, he never got to finish his statement.
Mission statements are like locusts. Nowadays it seems like every organization has a pressing need to justify its existence to a public just quivering with anticipation. “At Acme Widgets, our mission is to provide superior products and quality service at an affordable price.” Wow, I had no idea. I’ll take two.
Had the statement incorporated buzz words such as “best practices,” “synergy,” “client-centric,” “outside the box,” “paradigm shift,” “organic growth,” “branding” and “globalization,” I would have taken three.
Here’s what I’d like to know. How did they ever complete the Transcontinental Railroad without a mission statement? How did Thomas Edison invent the light bulb? Are you telling me Mount Rushmore was built without a clear, concise and organically synergistic mission statement? Now that takes guts!
So, why in 2016 are we under constant siege from this barrage of self-serving drivel? Here’s my theory.
Back in the mid-1960s, an impressionable group of teenagers were awestruck by the popular television series “Star Trek.” The show always began with Captain James T. Kirk describing the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. “It’s mission — to seek out new life forms, new civilizations … to boldly go where no man has gone before.” Heady stuff.
Eventually these teenagers would grow into adults. With their role model firmly in place, they did the natural thing. They imitated Capt. Kirk and constructed mission statements of their own. And we’ve been paying a terrible price ever since.
Now, it’s one thing for people like Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton to have a mission statement.
Clearly, they’re on a mission. And organizations like NASA need to have one as well. After all, you want everyone at mission control to know precisely which planet you’re pointing the rocket at.
But how necessary is a mission statement if you’re selling onion rings, Chia Pets or snow tires?
Unfortunately, it looks like mission statements are going to be with us for a while. There’s no avoiding these lemons, we might as well make lemonade.
At the very least, let’s level the playing field and allow every man, woman and child to fashion a mission statement of their own. For convenience, the statement could be printed on business cards and pulled out whenever the need arises.
And why be limited to a single mission statement? Multiple mission statements allow for much greater flexibility. Truly enterprising people might carry a pocket full of assorted mission statements. You never know when one of them might come in handy.
For example, you’re sitting at a Burger King downing a Triple Whopper Combo meal when your ex-wife walks through the door with her new squeeze, the handsome young doctor. No problem. You got this. You suck in your gut, wipe the ketchup off your face and whip out the appropriate mission statement.
“To show up your ex-wife by walking up and telling her that you can’t take the kids this weekend because the lingerie model you’ve been dating wants to fly you to Aspen and parade you around to all her friends.” And while you’re at it, ask her how the hair removal treatment is going.
Hey, you know what? Maybe there’s a buck in this for me. But how?
I know. I could become a consultant. Yeah, that’s the ticket — a consultant. Get me an expensive suit, a fancy watch, a slick website and charge $300 per hour for my oh-so-vital services.
And then, boldly go where I’ve never gone before. Tahiti.
Eddie Adelman is a writer who lives in Belfast.