Little of the unique working environment that has come to characterize Quad/Graphics's management style was part of any grand scheme. On the contrary -- the company's early years were highlighted more by a series of close calls than by any deliberate strategy.
"When we started, we aimed at the wrong market, with the wrong equipment," Quadracci says bluntly. The market he and his 10 co-founders had targeted, that of newspaper inserts, was in a slump when the company opened for business in 1972. As if that weren't enough, their brand-new, $850,000 press couldn't be relied upon to produce quality work. It was an inauspicious beginning for a group of people who had launched the company with such high hopes.
Quadracci and most of his co-founders had been employees of W. A. Krueger Co., a Milwaukee printing company that Quadracci's father, Harry R., had helped establish in the 1930s. Some were managers -- the younger Quadracci had been corporate counsel and then a vice-president -- but others were union rank-and-file. What brought them together was a shared disapproval of how top executives had handled a lengthy strike. They split off to start what Quadracci said would be a "company built by employees for employees, instead of a company run by a management class against a counterclass." The elder Quadracci was too much of a traditionalist to put much stock in so-called enlightened management, but eventually he too joined the team -- as chief executive officer.
For nearly five years, survival was an exercise in outlasting the capital, as Quadracci and the others attempted to switch gears and break into the magazine market. Proclaiming that "capacity is the key" to attracting big-time magazine customers, Quadracci ran the press day and night (thanks to the three-day workweek), and thereby amassed the capital to buy the more sophisticated web-offset machinery he needed. Or, as was more often the case, that he hoped he would need. The company's debt-to-equity ratio (now at 3-to-1) soared as high as 8-to-1 during the height of Quadracci's spending spree.
These hectic times provided little opportunity for Quadracci and his managers to develop an organizational plan or set long-term goals. While the co-founders fended for themselves in the day-to-day operation of the plant, their president was out beating the bushes for customers and lenders, gathering industry intelligence that would lead to marketing ideas, and developing flashy ways of attracting attention to this unknown printing company in what was usually described as "some little town in Wisconsin." Quadracci fought anonymity, for example, with an ad styled after a Saul Steinberg -- illustrated New Yorker magazine cover to depict Quad/Graphics's hometown as the mecca of the nation. "Where in the world is Pewaukee? Ask print buyers for . . ." the caption reads, listing more than a dozen of Quad/Graphics's most prominent customers.
When in 1977 and '78 there were finally opportunities to sit down and begin plotting a more formal approach to organizational structure and strategic planning, business was booming, and most Quad/Graphics managers didn't seem to think it made sense to tamper with success. So they chose to ignore drawing up hard-and-fast job descriptions, they eschewed all suggestions of developing new layers of management, and they rejected the idea of forming centralized services, such as a personnel office. "We made a conscious decision not to lose sight of what made us big so fast," Quadracci says, "and that was being small. As long as we retain that feeling of smallness, the culture we've created will perpetuate itself -- no matter how big we get."
Now, as Quad/Graphics adds a second printing plant three miles down the road and sets its sights on a $100-miIlion sales volume in the not-too-distant future, there are those who wonder if the company can sustain its human-resources policies. Maybe it is too much to expect Quadracci to continue his combined duties as president, head salesman, senior marketing man, and motivator-in-chief. Maybe employees will be too far from the influence of Quadracci and his co-founders to gain the proper understanding of Quad/Graphics's responsibility driven work ethic. Maybe it is time to transform "assumed responsibility" into "delegation of responsibility." Some suggest things are already moving in that direction.
Quadracci, however, disagrees. The system, he says, is working well -- sometimes almost too well. He smiles, recalling an incident that occurred in 1980, one in which he found that his employees knew the rules better than he did.
Managers in the company bindery had taken it upon themselves to catch a handful of lunch-hour marijuana-smokers in the act, and they enlisted the help of a local narcotics agent. As a result of the agent's undercover work, five employees were fingered and terminated.
Quadracci strongly disapproved of the department's tactics, wishing aloud that he had been apprised of the operation beforehand. But when it came to issuing a reprimand, he held his tongue. " [How to handle the matter] had to be their decision to make," Quadracci says with a sigh.
The capper, however, came later -- when one of those who were terminated asked for his job back, and was refused. Quadracci departed from his usual policy and took the rare step of offering an opinion. The young man appeared to have been an innocent bystander in the incident, he said, and so it would be "all right" with Quadracci if the bindery reversed its stance and rehired him. But the president's okay didn't carry much weight.
"To my total surprise, they said no again," Quadracci says, chuckling. "They told me that the kid had broken the cardinal rule -- he had violated their trust. He had failed to assume responsibility for his own actions, so how could they trust him to assume responsibility for the success of the company?"
Quadracci, recognizing that he had been given a good dose of his own management theory, had no choice but to accept the bindery's will. After hearing the employees out, Quadracci -- the manager -- shrugged, and walked away.
