After years as second fiddle, an executive is called before the Board of Directors and appointed CEO. As he enters his new office, there is small envelope in the center of the blotter on top of his desk.

Opening it, he reads: “There is an executive safe behind the portrait of the founder. In it are three envelopes — you’ll know when to use them. The combination is XX-YY-ZZ. Good luck. — the former CEO”. Seemed a little ominous, but he had things to do.

Within the first quarter, it was obvious that he was in over his head. There were rumblings in the financial papers, his #2 was threatening to quit, there was a threat of a strike, his Board was asking pointed questions, and his stock was in the doldrums. He opened the safe. The envelopes were neatly labeled “#1 — Use this FIRST”; “#2 — Use this SECOND”; and “#3 — Use this THIRD”.

He opened the first envelope. Inside was an older piece of paper, with a single sentence written in an older hand, as if the author had passed penmanship in the 1800’s. The script on the outside of the envelope actually looked a lot like the former CEO’s, but this little note in its antique hand said, “Blame the Previous Administration.”

The next morning, he called his team together to produce a multimedia presentation showing in great detail how much the previous management team had managed to make things an absolute cock-up, and how he was going to sweep out the rubbish and set things right. He made a speech to that effect on the evening news, gave interviews to the financial press, and talked privately on the topic with portfolio administrators. He got his labor force under control by showing how previous intransigence had thwarted advances in workers’ well-being.

He was a little weirded-out about the prior administration telling him to blame the prior administration, but he couldn’t deny the results. He actually appeared on the cover of Forbes, and Inc. magazine had him as an “up-and-comer” for next year. TV networks idolized him, his stock went up, and he could suggest that the Board of Directors do things that they promptly did. His management team started to step up and do what needed to be done.

Of course, six months later, the cracks began to show. There was so much success that everyone wanted to take credit for it — his underlings, the workers, the Board of Directors, his R&D group, the overseas subsidiaries, his “sales partners”….and success started getting shredded between these groups. Every meeting he had, there was a “gotcha” moment where one group tried to make him say some magic words that would harm a rival group.

Two months after that, the cracks were destroying the company. Groups were set against groups, the Board was in revolt, the overseas thought they ran the place, the Financial Press had gone unrelentingly negative, the SEC was investigating….

So he opened the second envelope. Inside, again, was an older piece of paper….with the same peculiarities of script as the first envelope. Again, the note wasted no words. It said, tersely, “Execute a Reorganization.”

As before, took his oracle’s guidance to his heart and performed it with every bit of zeal he could. He brought the overseas into the center, and decentralized all the formerly core IT, accounting, and administrative, functions. He expanded the Board, and created multiple classes of stock. He spun off a noisy division that required too much effort to make money, and made two major acquisitions of companies that would provide “synergy”.

That one lasted eight months before it became obvious that everyone hated it. He now was dodging subpoenas before congress and the SEC, had demonstrations where he was actually burned in effigy, his parking place needed security, and his wife and family were living in an undisclosed location.

Knowing full well that this was his final interaction with the oracle in the safe, he retrieved the envelope and slit it open on his desk. The customary piece of paper fluttered out and landed on his blotter, face down. It felt like there was a huge weight upon his chest, he could hear his heartbeat in his temples, and his vision narrowed down to only see the scrap.

When he flipped it over, it said, “Prepare three envelopes….”