Life As A Business Analyst – A Comic Relief

Here is where I need to put a little disclaimer.  While the following write-up is inspired by things that I see and do during my nine-to-five job, all the characters and events are fictional and by no mean resemble to anyone or anything in particular.  That means to say, if you think that I am poking fun at you, it is purely your imagination!

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Job titles often mean little.  When people ask me what I do for a living, I would tell them that I write to pay the bills.  On one side, I have a bunch of buyers representing a corporation who have the money and think they know what they want.  On the other side, I have a bunch of producers who have the skills and able to procure and create what they think the buyers want.  Think, is the keyword here.  It is near to impossible to transform thoughts into words.  Or collective thoughts into words that everyone can interpret in the same way (think about religion).  The buyers are busy talking.  The producers are busy crafting.  As for me, my job is to articulate the requirements in black-and-white so that the producers produce what the buyers want.  Or think they want.

All good requirements begin with something visionary, something bombastic.  Why?  It is simple.  Within a corporation, resource is limited.  In order to convince the shareholders to fund your great idea, it has to stand out from your peers.  It has to be inspiring.  If you can relate to the following illustrative story, you have worked in a corporation for far too long.

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It begins with a one-liner that I have crafted after a brainstorming session with the buyers that represent our corporation.  It says: To equip our top team with vehicles of prestige and unparalleled power.  The buyers seem happy with that.  It is a bit vague, but who am I to complain?  I take this document to the engineers of our corporation and immediately, they frown.  One asks, “What do you mean by unparalleled power?  Can you be more specific?”.  Very well, I haven’t given much thought.  I know nuts about cars of unparalleled power.  If we start to ask the buyers about the required down force and aerodynamic development, the average damping of vibration after bumps, the type of engine (V8, V10, or V12), and maximum power and torque, I am sure we will lose them.  What shall we do?  I know we can’t afford a Bugatti Veyron.  What about a Ferrari?  With the end goal in mind, the engineers and I do a bit of reverse-engineering.  The requirement now says: To equip our top team with vehicles of prestige and unparalleled power in excess of 600 horsepower.  The engineers seem happy that they do not need to produce a car that is impossible to make.  The buyers would be happy not to read too much into the technical details.  In a strange way, our buyers can visualize horses better than engine design.

The next day, we present our ideas to the buyers.  They love the Ferrari.  Out of nowhere, one buyer talks about how the bumpy road is near his home.  More chip in on the terrible road condition in some selective areas I have not even heard of.  The meeting turns into a pandemonium.  I attempt to quiet the crowd and offer, “Well, it is a Ferrari.  Just go over the speed humps slowly.  Or take a different route!”.

One buyer attempts to wear the hat of an engineer (uh-oh) and asks, “Can’t we modify the car and attach a set of bigger wheels?”  “Like a custom build design?” I asked.  What about aesthetic?  Will it even work?  The engineer replies, “We can custom build anything“.  All the buyers nod with delight and as the presentation is drawing to an end, another buyer asks, “How many can fit into a Ferrari?”

Good question, how many do you need?  It has been a long meeting and no one wants to think anymore.  “There are some pretty powerful SUVs,” I offer.  But no, they love the Ferrari, with custom big wheels.  “Can’t we have an extension that fits as many as we want?”  I look at the engineers and here comes the standard reply, “We can custom build anything“.  The meeting ends with a refined requirement that says: To equip our top team with vehicles of prestige and unparalleled power in excess of 600 horsepower that can handle all road conditions and fits a group.  In my mind, I think of a limo, an elongated version of a beautiful Ferrari.

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After some intense prototyping exercise, our engineers come up with the following design.

And the buyers are shocked by what they see.

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A few months later, before we roll out our final product to our top team, I have received an urgent call from the legal and compliance department informing me that we have a non-compliance issue.  How so, I ask.  You are missing a few stickers at the back of the trailer, the caller replies.  By law, we have to display how many passengers at most we carry inside the trailer.  That is odd.  So I make a visit to the engineers and investigate what has gone wrong.

“You have not specified what is inside the trailer and we assume that we are carrying a bunch of monkeys.  We don’t need a sticker for that,” an engineer explains.  “Why would we do that?!  Just doesn’t make sense!”  “Since our buyers have no clue how big or what the group is, we called up Ferrari and asked if their engines are powerful enough to satisfy our needs.”  “And they replied?”  “They said: Our prancing horse can pull a zoo of monkeys with no sweat!”

“Since when we take requirement from our suppliers?!”, I ask in desperation.  The engineer shrugs, “Since the day we define what unparalleled power is?”.  “And by the way”, he continues, “we have to put a 60 kph sticker at the back of the car by law because of the trailer.”  “That is an awfully slow car with an imposed limit of 60 kph,” I protest.  He shrugs again and says,”We ask for power, not speed, yes?”