Framing the Golden Gate Bridge
During the Thanksgiving weekend, while re-organizing our basement after its recent flood, I came again across boxes of essays I’ve written over the years. Some prompted pleasant memories, others made me cringe, and a few did both. Below I reproduce one of the latter, about a place where worked long ago.
San Francisco, CA
September 6, 1995
The Golden Gate Bridge, Highway and Transportation District is a six-county entity, the primary function of which is to provide transit services for commuters in the North Bay region. The District incudes bus transit operations, a four-vessel ferry fleet, and the Golden Gate Bridge. Each of these is operated and maintained by Division managers and their staff. Aside from the Bus, Ferry, and Bridge divisions, the District division includes the District General Manager, Secretary, and the departments of engineering and accounting. A Board of Directors comprising appointed representatives from the six counties governs the agency. The District was formed in the 1920s and has been a multi-transit agency since 1970.
As a member of the engineering department, I have had occasion to witness how the agency in general, and my department in particular, operates within the structural, human resources, political, and symbolic frames inherent in most organizations. The engineering department is arranged in accordance with a rigid organizational chart, one position situated directly under another in a distinct line of command. This structure has the apparent benefit of providing each individual a defined role and responsibility. However, the formality of the structure often stifles creativity, communication, and results. Formal lines of communication and coordination generally take on a life of their own, and paper-pushing becomes and end in itself. Predictably, policy and procedure can take priority over action and results.
Although the structural concept is admirable, the way it is instituted hardly inspires enthusiasm or productivity. The structure can be a positive force if it engenders a sense of place among employees working together to achieve a common goal. At the District, however, the excessive reliance on the structural dynamic seems to have created an environment in which rules and regulations are at best reluctantly observed. At worst, they are mocked. Furthermore, I often struggle with the fact that plans and goals must adapt to organizational structure rather than vice versa.
The human resources frame is conspicuous at the District primarily by its absence. This is not to say that upper management would be unresponsive to me if I were to approach them with questions or concerns. However, they must be approached to elicit any attention. Rarely does management take time to “mingle” with staff to inquire about progress on projects or to observe the work environment. Without solicitation, associate engineers will seldom be asked if there is a problem. Employee needs are rarely recognized, much less addressed. Therefore, most problems remain submerged. After all, subordinates are generally reluctant to initiate a conversation implying a problem with the boss or the organization, particularly if the boss expresses little day-to-day interest in the subordinates. Viewed in a positive light, the lack of attention normally allows us to freely exchange ideas laterally amongst ourselves and to manage our own affairs as they relate to our job. Unfortunately, this freedom apparently derives more from indifference and neglect than from confidence and trust.
The District was created in the 1920s as a compact among counties that floated bonds to construct the bridge. As such, it is an overtly political entity. However, many of its characteristics are covertly political as well. The Directors are political appointees, ostensibly accountable to their constituents. The District has funds supplied primarily by toll revenue that must be allocated among the various divisions. Naturally, each division will exert as much influence as possible to obtain its share of the annual funding. As an engineer, I must make not only technical arguments, but also a political case for particular projects if we are to receive Board approval to begin design. This is so because the self-interest of the Board lies within the political realm. I could not hope to comprehend the operation of the District, nor could I be successful in it, without understanding the political frame of reference.
To say that the District promotes a particular “corporate culture” would be an overstatement. Nonetheless, no institution can be without a certain culture. If one is not promoted, another will arise to fill the void. At the District, the culture that appears to dominate is that of bureaucracy. Task-forces, policies and procedures, and red tape infect almost every endeavor. The incidents noted above regarding the structural, human resources, and political frames are all symptomatic of this bureaucratic culture. Notwithstanding those related to the construction of the bridge, no myths, legends, or stories are part of District lore. The symbolic frame seems to have been entirely neglected by the managers and department heads at the District. That frame does, however, exist, as it must. Unfortunately, in this instance it has carved its own path, rather than follow one prescribed for it.
In my experience the symbolic frame exists not only in addition to the other frames, but to a large extent because of them. The manner through which the lenses of the first three frames are viewed influences the way in which the symbolic frame is formed. The frames must therefore be considered in context with one another, and only by doing so can the District or any organization become a cohesive, harmonious unit that can effectively answer the purpose for which it was formed.
JD
