There I was again, hitting the road in my old blue Fiat 124 — trusty, crusty, and barely holding together — heading toward the office. But that day wasn’t just any day. I was on my way to one of Mr. Müd’s infamous marketing training sessions — the kind that employees spoke about with a mix of awe and fear.
Mr. Müd, the proud Harvard Business School graduate (with a Harvard mug he cherished just as much as his degree), was the owner of the company where, at 28 years old, I had just landed my first manager role. He wasn’t a typical boss — more a scientifically driven pharmacist who happened to own a company, a tall, slim, hyper-intelligent gentleman who could easily have stepped out of a Dostoyevsky novel at one of those blue-blooded royal gatherings. And by some wonderful coincidence, he became my first real mentor.
I had been appointed head of the Pierre Fabre Sifar distributor business, tasked with setting up the strategy and building a team. No small job for a first-time manager.
Still driving, I felt my cheeks flush, remembering a certain incident from my early days at the company.
Coming from Bayer — a fortress of structure, process, and deeply rooted traditions — curiosity buzzed around me in my new local company. A Group Product Manager landing in a mid-sized local firm? It raised more than a few eyebrows. Especially in a company known for producing 70% of the top managers in the industry.
At Bayer, with a sales force averaging between 45 and 50 years old, I had learned one golden rule early: respect the field time above everything and adapt yourself to the reps’ routine — not the other way around.
Armed with that wisdom, I confidently walked into my peer, the pharma Marketing Manager’s office, a brilliant medical doctor and talented leader. Politely, I asked, “I need to do field research. Could you allocate one of those spare company cars that you have on your parking lot? I’ll go solo — no need to disturb the field force.”
He looked at me as if Marie Antoinette herself had just resurrected to suggest people eat cake when there is no bread. His eyes widened, his lips sagged — at least two kilometers south, or so it seemed to me.
Finally, he spoke, his voice almost vibrating through the heavy silence:
“Di… do you have any idea how many of our field force members have a car?”
It was my turn to freeze, my ears practically brushing my shoulders as I leaned forward.
Half, he said. Half didn’t even have cars.
That hit me like a brick. This wasn’t Bayer. This was a different world, with different rules.
Still, he smiled warmly and said, “Give me your field dates. Our area managers will accompany you.”
Fast-forward to today. I sat nervously in the newly decorated, cozy meeting room, waiting for Mr. Müd’s marketing session to begin. I already knew the legendary ending, thanks to the whispers that traveled faster than any memo.
The training was fantastic — but that is a story for another time.
Finally, Mr. Müd reached his last slides. His face turned deadly serious.
On the screen everybody could read clearly: “What is a car?”
He asked the room for a definition. Silence reigned.
“A car,” he said, “is a vehicle with four wheels. It takes you from one place to another — something you could also do by bus, train, plane, or even walking.”
Then came the next and final slide:
“So, what is the impact of a car on your market share?”
Answer:
“None.” He said.
Crystal clear. Don’t ask for a car unless you can prove it will grow your market share.
But the real takeaway — the one that carved itself into my brain forever — was this: whatever you do in business, it must have an ROI. A real return on investment. Definitely clear.
So, next time I even thought about asking for a car, I knew exactly what I had to do: convince Mr. Müd, not about my comfort, not about efficiency, but about how that car would boost the market share. Otherwise… better stick to my trusty, crusty Fiat and a good pair of walking shoes.
Driving home, I smiled — grateful for a place where every day shaped me into the manager I aspired to be.
For those looking to navigate the complexities of leadership and develop into the manager they aspire to be, Labyrinth of Management offers valuable insights and practical guidance for first-time managers.
For more stories, reflections, practical leadership tips, and to stay updated you can follow me on Instagram, X (Twitter), and Facebook.