A Confession by the Bonfire

One of the big, well-known defense plants in northern Israel issued a request for proposals for a very large and interesting project.

I had known the head of the project, an engineer named Menachem, for many years.

A very intelligent man. I'd add that there was real friendship and mutual respect between us.

As soon as the documents arrived, I set up a meeting with Menachem to gather the critical details I needed to compete for the project.

Naturally, I wanted to know which of my competitors had received a similar request, whether any of them had responded, whether there were reservations about the technical specs or the contract terms, and so on and so forth.

This is a good place to mention that I've always known gathering information (what I call "2G") is a condition for success. In my eyes, someone who receives a request for proposal, looks it over and submits an offer without bothering to collect every bit of competitive information he can get his hands on is a clerk, not a salesperson. And his chances are accordingly...

The meeting with Menachem was full of smiles, but very challenging. With a broad grin he deflected every attempt I made to get information out of him. His answer was short and sweet: "Peled, don't waste your time. I know you and I know your methods. You won't get anything out of me. You've got the full spec. Study it carefully and decide whether to bid, and what to bid"...

Nothing worked. I left empty-handed.

The minute I got back to the plant, the CEO at the time had me paged over the PA:

"I understand you were at... Well, what did you find? What information did you get?"

I was embarrassed. I had no choice but to admit that all my attempts to gather information had failed. We were dealing with a very intelligent man here. He keeps his cards close to his chest and doesn't fall into any trap.

"So what do you plan to do?" the CEO asked, in a slightly threatening tone (very typical of him).

I told him that Menachem was indeed very smart and experienced, but he doesn't operate in a vacuum. A project that big has a long list of people involved (engineers, technicians, quality assurance people, buyers, production planners and more), and they all take part in periodic design reviews. There was no doubt the information I so badly needed would trickle down. I'd go back in two weeks or so and try again.

And that's what I did. I spent a whole day at the defense plant again. I met everyone except Menachem. I came with a draft proposal (one that didn't reflect what we were actually planning to submit), shared some of my information with some of them, and in return got exactly the updates and corrections I'd been longing for.

In the end we won the project, alongside one other plant.

Quite a few years went by. Menachem had retired from the defense plant and gone to work somewhere else. It was Lag BaOmer, the spring holiday when Israeli kids light bonfires all over the country. It turned out my son Nir had gone to elementary school with Menachem's daughter. The parents were invited to accompany their kids to the bonfire, to make sure they didn't set the whole neighborhood on fire.

Menachem came to the bonfire too. We stood off to the side and chatted.

With a smile, Menachem brought up that project. "Remember, Peled, how you tried to get information out of me? But I know you and your methods"...

"True, Menachem," I said. "You really are a smart man, and you know me very well. But there's one thing you didn't take into account: in projects like this there's a whole group of people involved (the DMU, the decision making unit). You can always find the ones who like to brag that they're 'in the loop' (mostly junior staff), or who simply fall into the trap and leak vital information.

"You were a bunker, all right. But two weeks later I got every bit of information I needed out of the people who work for you"...