An email I sent to our staff last  night:
Dear BIDMC,
Stick with me through some  background that might seem irrelevant.  Then, I hope you like where it  leads!
A few weeks ago, I heard a talk by Roy Spence, the author  of 
It's Not What  You Sell, It's What  You Stand For: Why Every Extraordinary Business Is  Driven by Purpose.  As suggested by the book's title, his proposition is that truly  excellent organizations are those characterized by a common sense of  purpose.  This is different from having a mission statement or corporate  objective, which state a business direction.  It is more about having a  desire to change the world for the better.
An example Roy gave  was Southwest Airlines, who purpose is to give people the freedom to  fly.  You could probably quote the tag line:  “You are now free to move  about the country.” I listened as he talked about the airline’s  actualization of this sense of purpose.  One example occurred when the  entire airline industry decided to start charging for baggage.   Southwest was advised by its financial people that doing the same would  save millions of dollars and make millions of dollars.  The company  decided, though, that charging people for luggage would conflict with  its purpose and so -- contrary to all advice -- not only decided not to  charge for luggage but to begin a now famous 
Bags Fly Free advertising campaign.  “We love bags!”  proclaimed actual baggage handlers on the tarmac.
Sure enough,  the company did not save or make millions of dollars from this decision.   It made billions of dollars, as the public responded by shifting gobs  of business from other carriers.
I hadn’t thought about this much  until today, when I got on an American Airlines flight and noticed  virtually every passenger board a full flight with a “rollerboard” style  suitcase to put in the overhead bins.  They were all trying to avoid  the $25 fee for checking their bags.
The tension was palpable  among the passengers and the flight attendants. Passenger who boarded  later peered ahead in the aisle wondering when the next open spot would  be for their bags.  Flight attendants were alternating between repacking  each overhead bin to maximize its carrying capacity and hurrying  passengers along so we could have an “on-time departure.”
The  result:  Airline employees were devoting all of their emotional energy  to the baggage.  If you had questions about anything else, they could  not make eye contact because they were scanning the bins for empty  spaces.
Another result:  Passengers’ relative comfort with the  flight had already been diminished, and we hadn’t even taken off yet.   Categories were created between the “have’s” and “have not’s”.  Those of  us who arrived earlier (because of “priority access”) felt the calm  superiority of secure overhead bag placement, while those who arrived  after felt like they had missed something.  One person actually asked me  how I had managed to get on board before her.
To think, this all  started with a different sense of purpose.  For Southwest’s staff,  everything is about wanting to give us the freedom to fly, and because  of that, the airline’s customers never have a doubt.
I realized  that I’d be hard-pressed to know American Airlines’ purpose.  I opened  up the magazine in the seat pocket to see if I could find it.  There is a  letter from the CEO which says something about “all my AA colleagues  all over the world who put their hearts and souls into taking you  wheresoever you want to go in the world.”  At first blush, you might say  that is the same thing Southwest says, but it is not quite the same.   The AA line is about their doing something for you, not your doing  something for yourself.  It is not liberating: It is creating a  dependence.
Let’s switch to medicine and hospitals now.  As you  all know, at BIDMC, we have a long-standing purpose.  It is not a  business objective in our strategic plan or mission statement, but it is  deeply held: “To treat patients and their families as we would want  members of our own family treated.” Achieving this purpose is a full  time endeavor for all of us who work here -- including those involved in  research and teaching as well as clinical care.
In the last  eight years, we have accomplished a financial turn-around,  successfully  implemented a strategic plan and gained market share,  dramatically  enhanced patient quality and safety, come together as a  community  during economic hard times to save jobs and to protect our most  vulnerable staff members, and begun an  approach to process improvement  (Lean) that is highly respectful of one  another.
And, through it  all, we took great care of patients and their families.
Notwithstanding  these great successes, we have begun to learn that we cannot satisfy  our purpose if we make all the decisions for patients and their  families. In the ICUs and elsewhere we have established patient and  family advisory councils that bring in the wisdom of our clients in  logistics, space planning, and even clinical protocols.  Several months  ago, I wrote about one such effort in our ICUs that actually received 
international  recognition.
Of all the lessons we have learned here at  BIDMC, this may be the  hardest.  It is very different from the training  received by doctors,  and even that received by many nurses.  Beyond  being respectful,  empathetic, and compassionate, it requires us to be  ever modest about  our knowledge and in our demeanor.
This kind  of approach is most successful when it is a partnership, where  dependence in one direction is transformed into bidirectional  interdependence.  I'm not writing today to provide lots of details, but  to give you a heads up:  Over the coming months, look for an expansion  in our engagement with these advisory councils and other outreach to our  patients and their families.  We also plan to work with the Institute  for Healthcare Improvement to encourage and enhance the activities of  patient-run organizations in Boston and beyond.
If we can learn  to be full partners with our patients in carrying out our purpose, the  sky’s the limit.
Thanks, as always, for your involvement,  support, ideas, passion, and encouragement.
Sincerely,
Paul