Recently we ventured into the world of chickens; raising them for eggs and compost. Each day we let them out of their coop to "free range" in their pen. Okay it's a re-purposed dog kennel, but the chicks seem to enjoy ranging about and it is cool to say we will have free range eggs someday – it boosts their self-esteem also. As it turns out there is more to running a chicken company than I ever imagined. At first they are just these cute furry little interns, eager to learn. After a few weeks, they begin to act like they rule the roost. The payoff is slow in coming also. You have to invest in your employee’s training period for 5-6 months before they produce their first egg. In the meantime, they are giving you serious amounts of chicken shi. . . .everyday. And, in some cases, you can end up with a non-producer; a guy who struts around all day cock-a-doodling his own tune. These non-producers often end up getting grilled for a starring position on The  Food Network or playing a bit part for a drive-through chain headquartered in Kentucky.

I have also learned that chicks are quick to respond to an open door when it means freedom. Just like they are quick to take off and fly the coop when management is not looking. But when it comes time to return to the coop at the end of the day, it turns into a circus act, with managers running around like they have their heads cut off. Often it has taken two full grown, harried managers to corner and catch these featherweight employees; sometimes taking up to 30 minutes to put seven chickens to bed. Any time and motion expert would be appalled.
Frustrated with the inefficiency of the activity (I am big into removing muda/waste from my life) I decided to apply a bit of Kaizen to the chicken gathering process. I consulted with a chicken expert who clued me in on what I was doing wrong. I walked away from the expert consultation with a new mind set, skill set, and tool set.
Yesterday morning when I let the team out of the coop to range all day I shared with them that our evening session would be different and that I needed them to be open to new ideas. I watched them throughout the day to see if I could gauge their mood. There was the normal amount of clucking and pecking going on but with a slightly elevated level of interest whenever I came near their facility.
The time finally arrived . . . last evening I held a Kaizen Event with my chickens. I prepared myself with the right mindset; chickens, like any other team members want to do the right thing. If they are under performing it has more to do with the process than the chicken. The right skillset meant being patient, not expecting to have all the answers, but trusting the collective genius of the team to make the difference. And of course, I had a new tool;  corn scratch.
I proceeded with the Kaizen Event kick-off. I sat down with the team and explained the situation. Especially the stress the situation was creating for all parties involved; some where losing tail feathers, concerns about what management was going to have for dinner kept arising (on both sides - management and egghourly), and we just weren't having any fun. They agreed, the situation was not fun for them either and they were willing to change. After all, chicks just wanna have fun!
Following the chicken process expert's advice, I started the Kaizen Event slowly and deliberately with a new sound anchor. I started shaking my new tool, corn scratch in a plastic bowl. Corn scratch is a long known favorite of chickens, even though these chicks have not been alive long enough to have had it before. Instinctively they recognized the sound as something special. I spoke softly to the chickens explaining I was there to put them to bed to keep them safe from the foxes and bobcats that frequent our yard at night. They listened intently, turning their heads from side to side to get a better view of the bowl from which the sound was coming. It was somewhat hypnotic in its effect.

Susie, one of the early adopters stepped forward. She was ready to make a change. (I think I pulled one of her tail feathers out a couple of nights ago so she was motivated to work with me on the new process.) I held out my hand with the special corn scratch. At first she shied away. But the sound of the corn scratching against the plastic bowl I was swirling in my other hand was calling her ever closer. At last she pecked at my hand, not once, but twice. She was bold. I could see she was destined to be a team leader.    

I tossed the balance of the scratch into the coop. Supervisor Susie immediately climbed the chicken ladder of success to find the corn scratch in the coop. Within minutes the other 6 chicks were following suit. I sat there, proud of my team. I closed up the coop, threw a bit more scratch in as a merit bonus and headed home feeling satisfied with the outcome of our Kaizen Event.
I woke up this morning with a renewed vigor for raising chickens. No longer am I dreading the daily grind. I feel like we are finally a team working side-by-side to ward off the enemy. I have faith, now, that my $2.25 investment in each of my chicks will someday payoff with dozens of eggs. Even when you add in the cost of corn scratch, the lifetime payout in eggs is still a good ROI.
This lesson in linking compensation to performance as a means of changing behavior was certainly "cheeper" and easier than I expected. I thought it might take weeks. Turns out the chickens were just waiting for management to get its act together. It just goes to show that when "chicks know you care, they will go anywhere."