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Suicides at Foxconn - Apple Ethical?

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The sprawling factory compound, all grey dormitories and weather-beaten warehouses, blends seamlessly into the outskirts of the Shenzhen megalopolis. Foxconn's enormous Longhua plant is a major manufacturer of Apple products. It might be the best-known factory in the world; it might also might be among the most secretive and sealed-off. Security guards man each of the entry points. Employees can't get in without swiping an ID card; drivers entering with delivery trucks are subject to fingerprint scans. A Reuters journalist was once dragged out of a car and beaten for taking photos from outside the factory walls. The warning signs outside - "This factory area is legally established with state approval. Unauthorised trespassing is prohibited. Offenders will be sent to police for prosecution!" - are more aggressive than those outside many Chinese military compounds.

But it turns out that there's a secret way into the heart of the infamous operation: use the bathroom. I couldn't believe it. Thanks to a simple twist of fate and some clever perseverance by my fixer, I'd found myself deep inside so-called Foxconn City.

It's printed on the back of every iPhone: "Designed by Apple in California Assembled in China". US law dictates that products manufactured in China must be labelled as such and Apple's inclusion of the phrase renders the statement uniquely illustrative of one of the planet's starkest economic divides - the cutting edge is conceived and designed in Silicon Valley, but it is assembled by hand in China.

The vast majority of plants that produce the iPhone's component parts and carry out the device's final assembly are based here, in the People's Republic, where low labour costs and a massive, highly skilled workforce have made the nation the ideal place to manufacture iPhones (and just about every other gadget). The country's vast, unprecedented production capabilities - the US Bureau of Labor Statistics estimated that as of 2009 there were 99 million factory workers in China - have helped the nation become the world's second largest economy. And since the first iPhone shipped, the company doing the lion's share of the manufacturing is the Taiwanese Hon Hai Precision Industry Co, Ltd, better known by its trade name, Foxconn.

Foxconn is the single largest employer in mainland China; there are 1.3 million people on its payroll. Worldwide, among corporations, only Walmart and McDonald's employ more. As many people work for Foxconn as live in Estonia.

Today, the iPhone is made at a number of different factories around China, but for years, as it became the bestselling product in the world, it was largely assembled at Foxconn's 1.4 square-mile flagship plant, just outside Shenzhen. The sprawling factory was once home to an estimated 450,000 workers. Today, that number is believed to be smaller, but it remains one of the biggest such operations in the world. If you know of Foxconn, there's a good chance it's because you've heard of the suicides. In 2010, Longhua assembly-line workers began killing themselves. Worker after worker threw themselves off the towering dorm buildings, sometimes in broad daylight, in tragic displays of desperation - and in protest at the work conditions inside. There were 18 reported suicide attempts that year alone and 14 confirmed deaths. Twenty more workers were talked down by Foxconn officials.

The epidemic caused a media sensation - suicides and sweatshop conditions in the House of iPhone. Suicide notes and survivors told of immense stress, long workdays and harsh managers who were prone to humiliate workers for mistakes, of unfair fines and unkept promises of benefits.

The corporate response spurred further unease: Foxconn CEO, Terry Gou, had large nets installed outside many of the buildings to catch falling bodies. The company hired counsellors and workers were made to sign pledges stating they would not attempt to kill themselves.

Steve Jobs, for his part, declared: "We're all over that" when asked about the spate of deaths and he pointed out that the rate of suicides at Foxconn was within the national average. Critics pounced on the comment as callous, though he wasn't technically wrong. Foxconn Longhua was so massive that it could be its own nation-state, and the suicide rate was comparable to its host country's. The difference is that Foxconn City is a nation-state governed entirely by a corporation and one that happened to be producing one of the most profitable products on the planet.

If the boss finds any problems, they don't scold you then. They scold you later, in front of everyone, at a meeting

A cab driver lets us out in front of the factory; boxy blue letters spell out Foxconn next to the entrance. The security guards eye us, half bored, half suspicious. My fixer, a journalist from Shanghai whom I'll call Wang Yang, and I decide to walk the premises first and talk to workers, to see if there might be a way to get inside.

The first people we stop turn out to be a pair of former Foxconn workers.

"It's not a good place for human beings," says one of the young men, who goes by the name Xu. He'd worked in Longhua for about a year, until a couple of months ago, and he says the conditions inside are as bad as ever. "There is no improvement since the media coverage," Xu says. The work is very high pressure and he and his colleagues regularly logged 12-hour shifts. Management is both aggressive and duplicitous, publicly scolding workers for being too slow and making them promises they don't keep, he says. His friend, who worked at the factory for two years and chooses to stay anonymous, says he was promised double pay for overtime hours but got only regular pay. They paint a bleak picture of a high-pressure working environment where exploitation is routine and where depression and suicide have become normalised.

"It wouldn't be Foxconn without people dying," Xu says. "Every year people kill themselves. They take it as a normal thing."

Over several visits to different iPhone assembly factories in Shenzhen and Shanghai, we interviewed dozens of workers like these. Let's be honest: to get a truly representative sample of life at an iPhone factory would require a massive canvassing effort and the systematic and clandestine interviewing of thousands of employees. So take this for what it is: efforts to talk to often skittish, often wary and often bored workers who were coming out of the factory gates, taking a lunch break or congregating after their shifts.

The vision of life inside an iPhone factory that emerged was varied. Some found the work tolerable; others were scathing in their criticisms; some had experienced the despair Foxconn was known for; still others had taken a job just to try to find a girlfriend. Most knew of the reports of poor conditions before joining, but they either needed the work or it didn't bother them. Almost everywhere, people said the workforce was young and turnover was high. "Most employees last only a year," was a common refrain. Perhaps that's because the pace of work is widely agreed to be relentless, and the management culture is often described as cruel.

Since the iPhone is such a compact, complex machine, putting one together correctly requires sprawling assembly lines of hundreds of people who build, inspect, test and package each device. One worker said 1,700 iPhones passed through her hands every day; she was in charge of wiping a special polish on the display. That works out at about three screens a minute for 12 hours a day.

More meticulous work, like fastening chip boards and assembling back covers, was slower; these workers have a minute apiece for each iPhone. That's still 600 to 700 iPhones a day. Failing to meet a quota or making a mistake can draw public condemnation from superiors. Workers are often expected to stay silent and may draw rebukes from their bosses for asking to use the restroom.

Xu and his friend were both walk-on recruits, though not necessarily willing ones. "They call Foxconn a fox trap," he says. "Because it tricks a lot of people." He says Foxconn promised them free housing but then forced them to pay exorbitantly high bills for electricity and water. The current dorms sleep eight to a room and he says they used to be 12 to a room. But Foxconn would shirk social insurance and be late or fail to pay bonuses. And many workers sign contracts that subtract a hefty penalty from their pay if they quit before a three-month introductory period.

The body-catching nets are still there. They look a bit like tarps that have blown off the things they're meant to cover

On top of that, the work is gruelling. "You have to have mental management," says Xu, otherwise you can get scolded by bosses in front of your peers. Instead of discussing performance privately or face to face on the line, managers would stockpile complaints until later. "When the boss comes down to inspect the work," Xu's friend says, "if they find any problems, they won't scold you then. They will scold you in front of everyone in a meeting later."

"It's insulting and humiliating to people all the time," his friend says. "Punish someone to make an example for everyone else. It's systematic," he adds. In certain cases, if a manager decides that a worker has made an especially costly mistake, the worker has to prepare a formal apology. "They must read a promise letter aloud - 'I won't make this mistake again'- to everyone."

This culture of high-stress work, anxiety and humiliation contributes to widespread depression. Xu says there was another suicide a few months ago. He saw it himself. The man was a student who worked on the iPhone assembly line. "Somebody I knew, somebody I saw around the cafeteria," he says. After being publicly scolded by a manager, he got into a quarrel. Company officials called the police, though the worker hadn't been violent, just angry.

"He took it very personally," Xu says, "and he couldn't get through it." Three days later, he jumped out of a ninth-storey window.

So why didn't the incident get any media coverage? I ask. Xu and his friend look at each other and shrug. "Here someone dies, one day later the whole thing doesn't exist," his friend says. "You forget about it."

'We look at everything at these companies," Steve Jobs said after news of the suicides broke. "Foxconn is not a sweatshop. It's a factory - but my gosh, they have restaurants and movie theatres... but it's a factory. But they've had some suicides and attempted suicides - and they have 400,000 people there. The rate is under what the US rate is, but it's still troubling." Apple CEO, Tim Cook, visited Longhua in 2011 and reportedly met suicide-prevention experts and top management to discuss the epidemic.

In 2012, 150 workers gathered on a rooftop and threatened to jump. They were promised improvements and talked down by management; they had, essentially, wielded the threat of killing themselves as a bargaining tool. In 2016, a smaller group did it again. Just a month before we spoke, Xu says, seven or eight workers gathered on a rooftop and threatened to jump unless they were paid the wages they were due, which had apparently been withheld. Eventually, Xu says, Foxconn agreed to pay the wages and the workers were talked down.

When I ask Xu about Apple and the iPhone, his response is swift: "We don't blame Apple. We blame Foxconn." When I ask the men if they would consider working at Foxconn again if the conditions improved, the response is equally blunt. "You can't change anything," Xu says. "It will never change."

Wang and I set off for the main worker entrance. We wind around the perimeter, which stretches on and on - we have no idea this is barely a fraction of the factory at this point.

After walking along the perimeter for 20 minutes or so, we come to another entrance, another security checkpoint. That's when it hits me. I have to use the bathroom. Desperately. And that gives me an idea.

There's a bathroom in there, just a few hundred feet down a stairwell by the security point. I see the universal stick-man signage and I gesture to it. This checkpoint is much smaller, much more informal. There's only one guard, a young man who looks bored. Wang asks something a little pleadingly in Chinese. The guard slowly shakes his head no, looks at me. The strain on my face is very, very real. She asks again - he falters for a second, then another no.

We'll be right back, she insists, and now we're clearly making him uncomfortable. Mostly me. He doesn't want to deal with this. Come right back, he says. Of course, we don't.

To my knowledge, no American journalist has been inside a Foxconn plant without permission and a tour guide, without a carefully curated visit to selected parts of the factory to demonstrate how OK things really are.

Maybe the most striking thing, beyond its size - it would take us nearly an hour to briskly walk across Longhua - is how radically different one end is from the other. It's like a gentrified city in that regard. On the outskirts, let's call them, there are spilt chemicals, rusting facilities and poorly overseen industrial labour. The closer you get to the city centre - remember, this is a factory - the more the quality of life, or at least the amenities and the infrastructure, improves.

As we get deeper in, surrounded by more and more people, it feels like we're getting noticed less. The barrage of stares mutates into disinterested glances. My working theory: the plant is so vast, security so tight, that if we are inside just walking around, we must have been allowed to do so. That or nobody really gives a shit. We start trying to make our way to the G2 factory block, where we've been told iPhones are made. After leaving "downtown", we begin seeing towering, monolithic factory blocks - C16, E7 and so on, many surrounded by crowds of workers.

I worry about getting too cavalier and remind myself not to push it; we've been inside Foxconn for almost an hour now. The crowds have been thinning out the farther away from the centre we get. Then there it is: G2. It's identical to the factory blocks that cluster around it, that threaten to fade into the background of the smoggy static sky.

G2 looks deserted, though. A row of impossibly rusted lockers runs outside the building. No one's around. The door is open, so we go in. To the left, there's an entry to a massive, darkened space; we're heading for that when someone calls out. A floor manager has just come down the stairs and he asks us what we're doing. My translator stammers something about a meeting and the man looks confused; then he shows us the computer monitoring system he uses to oversee production on the floor. There's no shift right now, he says, but this is how they watch.

No sign of iPhones, though. We keep walking. Outside G3, teetering stacks of black gadgets wrapped in plastic sit in front of what looks like another loading zone. A couple of workers on smartphones drift by us. We get close enough to see the gadgets through the plastic and, nope, not iPhones either. They look like Apple TVs, minus the company logo. There are probably thousands stacked here, awaiting the next step in the assembly line.

If this is indeed where iPhones and Apple TVs are made, it's a fairly aggressively shitty place to spend long days, unless you have a penchant for damp concrete and rust. The blocks keep coming, so we keep walking. Longhua starts to feel like the dull middle of a dystopian novel, where the dread sustains but the plot doesn't.

We could keep going, but to our left, we see what look like large housing complexes, probably the dormitories, complete with cagelike fences built out over the roof and the windows, and so we head in that direction. The closer we get to the dorms, the thicker the crowds get and the more lanyards and black glasses and faded jeans and sneakers we see. College-age kids are gathered, smoking cigarettes, crowded around picnic tables, sitting on kerbs.

And, yes, the body-catching nets are still there. Limp and sagging, they give the impression of tarps that have half blown off the things they're supposed to cover. I think of Xu, who said: "The nets are pointless. If somebody wants to commit suicide, they will do it."

We are drawing stares again - away from the factories, maybe folks have more time and reason to indulge their curiosity. In any case, we've been inside Foxconn for an hour. I have no idea if the guard put out an alert when we didn't come back from the bathroom or if anyone is looking for us or what. The sense that it's probably best not to push it prevails, even though we haven't made it on to a working assembly line.

We head back the way we came. Before long, we find an exit. It's pushing evening as we join a river of thousands and, heads down, shuffle through the security checkpoint. Nobody says a word. Getting out of the haunting megafactory is a relief, but the mood sticks. No, there were no child labourers with bleeding hands pleading at the windows. There were a number of things that would surely violate the US Occupational Safety and Health Administration code - unprotected construction workers, open chemical spillage, decaying, rusted structures, and so on - but there are probably a lot of things at US factories that would violate OSHA code too. Apple may well be right when it argues that these facilities are nicer than others out there. Foxconn was not our stereotypical conception of a sweatshop. But there was a different kind of ugliness. For whatever reason - the rules imposing silence on the factory floors, its pervasive reputation for tragedy or the general feeling of unpleasantness the environment itself imparts - Longhua felt heavy, even oppressively subdued.

When I look back at the photos I snapped, I can't find one that has someone smiling in it. It does not seem like a surprise that people subjected to long hours, repetitive work and harsh management might develop psychological issues. That unease is palpable - it's worked into the environment itself. As Xu said: "It's not a good place for human beings."

This is an edited extract from The One Device: The Secret History of the iPhone by Brian Merchant, published by Bantam Press (£16.99). To order a copy for £14.44 go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1.99.

The Samaritans can be contacted in the UK and Ireland on 116 123.
In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.
In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is on 13 11 14.

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Life and death in Apple's forbidden city

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In an extract from his new book, Brian Merchant reveals how he gained access to Longhua, the vast complex where iPhones are made and where, in 2010, unhappy workers started killing themselves

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Nokia Strategy Fail

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Despite being an exemplar of strategic agility, the fearful emotional climate prevailing at Nokia during the rise of the iPhone froze coordination between top and middle managers terrified of losing status and resources from management. The company was wounded before the battle began.

Nokia's fall from the top of the smartphone pyramid is typically put down to three factors by executives who attempt to explain it: 1) that Nokia was technically inferior to Apple, 2) that the company was complacent and 3) that its leaders didn't see the disruptive iPhone coming.

We argue that it was none of the above. As we have previously asserted, Nokia lost the smartphone battle because divergent shared fears among the company's middle and top managers led to company-wide inertia that left it powerless to respond to Apple's game changing device.

In a recent paper, we dug deeper into why such fear was so prevalent. Based on the findings of an in-depth investigation and 76 interviews with top and middle managers, engineers and external experts, we find that this organisational fear was grounded in a culture of temperamental leaders and frightened middle managers, scared of telling the truth.
Deer in the headlights
The fear that froze the company came from two places. First, the company's top managers had a terrifying reputation, which was widely shared by middle managers-individuals who typically had titles of Vice President or Director in Nokia. We were struck by the descriptions of some members of Nokia's board and top management as "extremely temperamental" who regularly shouted at people "at the top of their lungs". One consultant told us it was thus very difficult to tell them things they didn't want to hear. Threats of firings or demotions were commonplace.

Secondly, top managers were afraid of the external environment and not meeting their quarterly targets, given Nokia's high task and performance focus, which also impacted how they treated middle managers. Although they realised that Nokia needed a better operating system for its phones to match Apple's iOS, they knew it would take several years to develop, but were afraid to publicly acknowledge the inferiority of Symbian, their operating system at the time, for fear of appearing defeatist to external investors, suppliers, and customers and thus losing them quickly. "It takes years to make a new operating system. That's why we had to keep the faith with Symbian," said one top manager. Nobody wanted to be the bearer of bad news. However, top managers also invested in developing new technological platforms that they believe could match the iPhone platform in the medium term.
"Top management was directly lied to"
Top managers thus made middle managers afraid of disappointing them-by intimating that they were not ambitious enough to meet top managers' stretched goals. One middle manager suggested to a colleague that he challenged a top manager's decision, but his colleague said "that he didn't have the courage; he had a family and small children".

Fearing the reactions of top managers, middle managers remained silent or provided optimistic, filtered information. One middle manager told us "the information did not flow upwards. Top management was directly lied to...I remember examples when you had a chart and the supervisor told you to move the data points to the right [to give a better impression]. Then your supervisor went to present it to the higher-level executives. There were situations where everybody knew things were going wrong, but we were thinking, "Why tell top managers about this? It won't make things any better." We discussed this kind of choice openly."

This shared fear was exacerbated by a culture of status inside Nokia that made everyone want to hold onto power for fear of resources being allocated elsewhere or being demoted and cast aside if they delivered bad news or showing that they were not bold or ambitious enough to undertake challenging assignments.
Innovation impotence
The high external fear among top managers and high internal fear among middle managers led to a decoupling of perceptions between the two groups of top and middle managers about how quickly Nokia could launch a new smartphone and develop advanced software to match the iPhone. Given the optimistic signals coming from the middle managers, top managers had no qualms about pushing them harder to catch up with Apple-after all, top managers were only stretching targets. Fearful that Nokia would lose its world dominance and post weak financial results, top managers exerted pressure on middle managers to deliver a touchscreen phone quickly. They acknowledged this in interviews with us. "The pressure we put on the Symbian software organisation was insane, because the commercial realities were so pressing. You must have something to sell" said one top manager.

A leader from the MeeGo organisation, which was set to be the successor technological platform to Symbian said, "we spoke of a delay of at least six months, if not a year. But top managers said 'let's go, you have to run faster.'"

Beyond verbal pressure, top managers also applied pressure for faster performance in personnel selection. They later admitted to us that they favoured new blood who displayed a "can do" attitude.

This led middle managers to over promise and under deliver. One middle manager told us that "you can get resources by promising something earlier, or promising a lot. It's sales work." This was made worse by the lack of technical competence among top managers, which influenced how they could assess technological limitations during goal setting.

As one middle manager pointed out to us, at Apple the top managers are engineers. "We make everything into a business case and use figures to prove what's good, whereas Apple is engineer-driven." Top managers acknowledged to us that "there was no real software competence in the top management team".
The final blow
Nokia therefore ended up allocating disproportionate attention and resources to the development of new phone devices for short-term market demands at the expense of developing the operating system required to compete with Apple.

The quality of Nokia's high-end phones thus gradually declined. In 2007, Nokia launched the N95 smartphone, which had full music features, GPS navigation, a large screen (albeit not a touch screen) and full internet browsing capability. Software compromises were accepted to get it ready on time. It was a success, but serious quality problems soon emerged.

In 2008, Nokia launched its first touchscreen phone, the 5800, at a lower price point than the iPhone. It was a commercial success but it was about "one and a half years late" because of software development problems. In 2009, the N97 was launched to overthrow the iPhone, but one top manager admitted the phone was "a total fiasco in terms of the quality of the product."

In 2010 came the purported "iPhone killer" with a touchscreen, one year later than planned, but it underperformed in usability and failed to match up to the sleek competition of iOS and Android. A new CEO-Stephen Elop--hired later that year decided that Nokia would be better off buying software from elsewhere and formed an alliance with Microsoft in 2011. As we know, this move accelerated the company's decline and Microsoft went on to acquire Nokia's phone business in 2013. The market value of Nokia declined by about 90% in just six years, hovering around 100 billion US dollars.

Despite its enormous R&D firepower, its technical prowess and foresight - Nokia's patents still generated about US$600 million a year paid by its thriving rivals like Apple and Samsung - Nokia's ultimate fall can be put down to internal politics. In short, Nokia people weakened Nokia people and thus made the company increasingly vulnerable to competitive forces. When fear permeated all levels, the lower rungs of the organisation turned inward to protect resources, themselves and their units, giving little away, fearing harm to their personal careers. Top managers failed to motivate the middle managers with their heavy-handed approaches and they were in the dark with what was really going on.

While modest fear might be healthy for motivation, using it indiscriminately can be like overusing a drug, which risks generating harmful side effects. To reduce this risk, leaders should be attuned to the varied emotions of the collective. As Huy pointed out in other research, those able to identify varied collective emotions are seen as effective transformational leaders. Leaders can develop a collective emotional capability in their organsations. Fear can only be a useful motivator if management can provide workers with the means to address these fears. Nokia's top managers should have encouraged and role modeled more authentic and psychologically safe dialogue, internal coordination and feedback mechanisms to understand the true emotional picture in the organisation. They might then have been able to better gauge what was possible and what was not, and most importantly, what to do about it.

Quy Huy is Professor of Strategy at INSEAD. He is also Programme Director of the Strategy Execution Programme, part of INSEAD's suite of Executive Development Programmes.
Timo Vuori Follow INSEAD Knowledge on Twitter and Facebook is an assistant professor in strategic management at Aalto University, Finland.

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Despite being an exemplar of strategic agility, the fearful emotional climate prevailing at Nokia during the rise of the iPhone froze coordination between top and middle managers terrified of losing status and resources from management. The company was wounded before the battle began.

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Driveless Car laws

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The House passed a bipartisan driverless car bill on Wednesday, advancing what could become the first set of federal laws for the emerging industry.

The "Self Drive Act" was unanimously approved by the House Energy and Commerce Committee in July, before Congress left for August recess, and passed the full House on a voice vote.

"Self-driving cars hold the promise of making America's roads safer, creating new economic opportunities, and helping seniors and those with disabilities live more independently," Commerce Chairman Greg Walden (R-Ore.) and Rep. Bob Latta (R-Ohio) said in a joint statement. "This bipartisan bill paves the way for advanced collision avoidance systems and self-driving cars nationwide, and ensures that America stays a global leader in innovation."

The bill would preempt states from implementing certain laws governing the new technology. It would also allow car manufacturers to deploy up to 100,000 self-driving cars a year that don't meet normal safety standards. In the first year, however, that number will be capped at 25,000.

States will still be responsible for vehicle registration, insurance, driver education, law enforcement and other local issues. Manufacturers will be required to include cybersecurity and privacy protections in their vehicles.

And the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration will be in charge of regulating the industry's traffic safety standards.

Reuters reported on Tuesday that Transportation Secretary Elaine Chao Elaine Lan Chao White House briefs state, local officials on Trump's infrastructure plan Trump infrastructure package could be stretched too thin Federal highway agency doles out M for emergency Harvey repairs MORE is expected to unveil guidelines for manufacturing autonomous vehicles.

Lawmakers and industry advocates say it is necessary to speed up the development of driverless technology in order to improve traffic safety. The bill comes amid an uptick in traffic deaths in the U.S.

"Self-driving cars have the potential in the future to reduce deaths and injuries from car crashes, particularly those that result from driver distraction," Rep. Frank Pallone Jr. (D-N.J.), the top Commerce Committee Democrat, said on the House floor ahead of the vote. "This bill allows for testing and deployment of self-driving cars to help the United States reach that potential sooner."

According to one estimate, self-driving cars could reduce traffic fatalities by up to 90 percent.

The technology is still a long way from a mass rollout, but lawmakers believe that the bill could help expedite the industry's development by clearing out a patchwork of differing state laws throughout the country.

The Senate is also expected to put out its own version of a self-driving car bill soon.

Next week, the Senate Commerce Committee will hold a hearing to examine self-driving trucks, an issue that wasn't covered in the House legislation and is sure to run into opposition from labor groups.

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House passes bill paving the way for driverless cars

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The House passed a bipartisan driverless car bill on Wednesday, advancing what could become the first set of federal laws for the emerging industry. The "Self Drive Act" was unanimously approved by the House Energy and Commerce Committee in July, before Congress left for August recess, and passed the full House on a voice vote.

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Changing culture at Jaguar

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Introduction - Changing the culture at Jaguar - Jaguar | Jaguar case studies and information | Business Case Studies

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Corporate culture reflects the personality of an organisation. It includes the shared beliefs and the policies and procedures that determine the ways in which the organisation and its people behave and solve business problems. You can quickly get a feel for the culture of an organisation just by looking around and talking to the people who work for it.