The default presumption of every process is that we'll try to break it in any way we can — consciously or not.
Irina Rokosz
I once worked with a manager who had a rant that went something like this: “People need to be more disciplined! We're only writing processes, and no one reads them, let alone follows them. We need to get them to be more disciplined, learn the processes, and follow them as described!”
“If people were disciplined, we wouldn't need processes,” I replied. “We write processes exactly because people are not disciplined and no one follows any process.”
That didn't sit right with him. And it probably doesn't sit right with you either. After all, the first step of scaling is to write down all your processes so you can give them to your new hires, right?
Well, how do you ask your spouse to do something? You give them enough direction, but not too much, right? You don't want to imply they are stupid or incapable.
But read any process, and that's the underlying assumption. We like our processes idiot-proof. Read any law, if you don't have a process handy. That will make you feel like you've already committed all the crimes in question.
So, why is that? Because we invented processes as a form of control. Humans have used processes for centuries as they've had to run large-scale projects with thousands of people to coordinate. In such projects, you don't know everyone; hence, you don't trust everyone. You tell them what to do and make them follow the instructions precisely.
With time, we've used processes for optimization, and now for scaling, but the original intent remains: you don't know the person, so you assume the worst about them.
Now, I ask you: What kind of an organization do you want to have — a trusting one or a controlling one? Do you want your people to feel empowered or intimidated? Because you either go for trust and direction, or for control and processes. There's no middle ground here.