An allegory about third-party suppliers
Once upon a time, there was a very rich King. The King had many palaces throughout his country, but some were old and crumbling. “Build me a new palace!” he told his advisers. “Make it impressive, and make it big, for my family has grown large, and they expect greatness of me.”
The King’s advisers started on this task immediately. For months, they searched the land to find the perfect location for the new palace. Eventually they found a tall mountain, surrounded by forests, rivers, and splendid views of the countryside.
The advisers could not build the palace on their own, of course. But a tribe of cavemen lived nearby, and the cavemen were known for their construction skills and beautiful craftsmanship. “We want you to build a palace for our King,” said the chief adviser. “It must be impressive, and it must be big, for the King intends to entertain his whole family there.”
The cavemen were honoured that the advisers had chosen them to build the King’s palace. The leader of the cavemen made a plan, and his caveman helpers drew many pictures of the palace’s interior. “It is good,” the advisers said when they saw the plans and drawings. “Now go and build it!”
And so the cavemen started work. They dug deep trenches and tunnels. They pulled down many trees to provide wood for the palace. They hauled beautiful marble from the finest quarries. They mined exquisite metals and jewels from the richest seams and lodes. The cavemen laboured day and night for many months to build the largest, most impressive palace they could imagine.
One day, the leader of the cavemen wiped the sweat from his brow and declared with a smile: “It is done!” The other cavemen gave a great cheer, and welcomed the King’s advisers back to inspect their work. The advisers took a long walk through the new palace. But when they came back out, they shook their heads and frowned.
“This isn’t right at all!” they said. “The televisions don’t work! The King’s grandchildren watch a lot of television, and this must be fixed before they move in!”
“What are televisions?” said the leader of the cavemen.
“Televisions?” the advisers said, with an air of surprise. “They are those black boxes with shiny screens that sit in the corners of all the rooms. When you switch them on, they show pictures from afar. Plays, tidings, and entertainment! Have you been living in a cave for the last fifty years?”
“Well, yes,” said the leader of the cavemen. “So the obsidian blocks with polished fronts aren’t sufficient? Our craftsmen spent many weeks carving them into the exact shapes we agreed upon. Here are the drawings you approved. See?”
“Ulp,” said the advisers.
The leader of the cavemen understood that the King would be disappointed. He called all his craftsmen together and told them what was wrong. “We understand!” said the craftsmen. “We will build these televisions properly now. We will rip out the walls to lay electric cables. We will install aerials to receive the signals, and we will give them video recorders, too!”
The cavemen started work again. They ripped out the palace walls to lay electrical wiring, and they bored holes for the aerial cables. They refined black tar to make plastic for the television casings, and they blew fine glass for the screens. The cavemen children, with their little fingers, constructed the tiny valves to go inside. For a whole month, they laboured day and night to make the best and most impressive televisions they could imagine.
After that month, the advisers returned. Once again, they took a long walk through the new palace. But when they came back out, they shook their heads and frowned.
“The televisions work, but the palace still isn’t right at all! None of the toilets work! The King’s grandchildren will need to relieve themselves, and this must be fixed before they move in!”
“What are toilets?” said the leader of the cavemen.
“Toilets?” the advisers said, with an air of amazement. “They are those white, curved seats in the bathrooms. You pee and poo in them. They wash away your waste with nary a whiff of embarrassment. Have you been living in a cave for the last hundred years?”
“Well, yes,” said the leader of the cavemen. “So the porcelain blocks with oval covers and decorative interior pools aren’t sufficient? Our craftsmen spent many weeks moulding them into the exact shapes we agreed upon. Here are the paintings you approved, see? And besides, couldn’t you have told us about this a whole month ago?”
“Uh-oh,” said the advisers.
The leader of the cavemen, while frustrated, understood that the King would be disappointed. He called all his craftsmen together again and explained what was wrong. “We understand!” said the craftsmen. “We will build these toilets properly now. We will rip up the floors to lay plumbing and sewage pipes. We will install toilet roll holders and air fresheners, too!”
Once again, the cavemen started work. They boiled down horse and mammoth carcases to make glue and long plastic pipes. They ripped up the palace floors to lay sewage ducts. The cavemen women, with their quilting skills, embroidered thousands of tiny sheets of silk to wrap around the newly installed toiled roll holders. For a whole month, the cavemen laboured day and night to make the best and most impressive toilets they could imagine.
At the end of this month, the advisers returned. As they had done twice before, they took a long walk through the new palace. But just as before, when they came back out, they shook their heads and frowned.
“The televisions work, and the toilets are fine, but the palace still isn’t right at all! Where are the windows? The King’s grandchildren love to watch the sunset before bedtime, and they rise from their beds at sunrise. How can they maintain their daily cycle without windows! You must fix this before they move in!”
“What are windows?” said the leader of the cavemen.
“Windows?” the advisers said, tearing their hair out in anger. “They are sheets of crystal or coloured glass that cover holes in the walls. They keep bad weather out and keep warm air in. In winter they reveal snowy wonderlands, and in summer they guide the sun’s radiant passage. Have you been living in a cave for the last thousand years?”
“You’re shitting me, right?” said the leader of the cavemen. “The walls are a hundred feet underground. We hollowed out this mountain to build you the biggest, most impressive palace we could imagine. To place a window in the highest chamber, we’d have to dig through solid rock for weeks, and even then sun’s light would be dimmed to the brightness of a candle when it reached inside. And besides, you first saw the palace two months ago. Could you not have said something then?”
“You built the palace…underground?” said the advisers.
“Where else?” said the leader of the cavemen.
“But we never agreed on that!” said the advisers. They pulled out the plans for the palace and read through them, line by line. The pulled out the drawings for the palace and scrutinized every pencil stroke. But neither the plans nor the drawings said anything about where the palace should be built. They only described the rooms, the corridors, and the interior decorations.
“This is awful!” said the advisers. “We wanted you to build the palace above ground!”
“But you approved the plans,” the leader of the cavemen said. “You agreed to every word in them. How could you have possibly not noticed the absence of such a fundamental requirement? How can we interpret your wishes if you don’t express them to us?”
“That’s not the point!” said the advisers. “The point is that we need you to rebuild the palace above ground before the King and his family can move in!”
The leader of the cavemen sat down and thought about what to do. He mulled over brutally murdering the advisers, and then slaughtering all of the King’s family, but he decided against this. He was, after all, a modern caveman, and he considered himself above such forms of simple revenge.
However, he wasn’t sure that his craftsmen were quite so sophisticated. They had been labouring day and night for many months to finish the palace. They were demoralized. Twice already he had told them that their work had not been good enough, and that they had to redouble their efforts. If he asked them a third time, would they turn around and savagely rip off his arms and legs?
After a while, he came to a conclusion. He would encourage the craftsmen to work more on the palace by paying them “overtime”. He would also try to convince the advisers of the benefits of an underground palace, and to persuade them that the King’s grandchildren could live without windows. After all, he thought, the exercise of climbing up five hundred stairs every morning to see the sunrise would do them good.
Eventually, the King did move in to the palace. He had got bored with the objections of his advisers, and he wanted a change of scenery, no matter how often they told him it wasn’t finished. He brought his children and his grandchildren with them. They, in turn brought their husbands and wives, and many of their friends to admire the beautiful underground structure. “How wonderful!” they all said. “This is surely the largest and most impressive palace we have ever seen!”
They stood in awe of the shiny televisions, and they marvelled at the gleaming toilets. They didn’t even mind having to climb down five hundred steps to get inside. They lavished many gifts on the King, and they praised his advisers for their wisdom in bringing the palace to completion.
But soon enough the King’s children and grandchildren had to return to their own towns and villages. They had their own houses to manage, crops to tend, and animals to feed. When they needed to visit the King, they would occasionally revisit the great underground palace. And then, away from the fanfare of the opening party, they found that climbing the five hundred stairs was quite a great effort. The toilets, while beautiful and shiny, were cold, and silk toilet paper feels slippery and discomforting on one’s butt. And they were so busy that they never had time to watch the televisions anyway.
Nevertheless, the country continued to flourish and prosper. The King was pleased that his new palace was a success, and he fondly remembered how his family had enjoyed the opening party. So one day he called his advisers to him, and said: “Build me another palace!”
Moral of the story:
Caveman build. Oog.