Business is a power struggle. Say I've got $100 in discretionary spending money. The first struggle is about what: I can spend that money on food, wine, clothes, books, theatre tickets, whatever. The next struggle is about which: peas or leeks? Bordeaux or Malbec? Levis or Diesel? The last struggle, usually invisible to me, is about who: who gets how much of the $100 when it's divvied up, for example among the retailer, distributor, and manufacturer, or between worker, manager, and investor?

When it comes to change, leaders and management thinkers are unanimous about two things. First, change is hard. On that, everyone agrees, from Machiavelli

A funny thing's happening to manufacturing in the United States: It's still happening. Last year, for the first time this century, total U.S. manufacturing employment grew; it will grow again this year. Profits hit records last year, after tanking in 2008. GM and Chrysler have given taxpayers handsome returns on the public investments that saved them. BMW's Greenville, South Carolina, factory is the company's second biggest and a major exporter.

There's a stream of strategy literature-using the word "literature" loosely-about three time horizons: short, medium, and (you guessed it) long. The strategic idea is that you should work on all three simultaneously, sort of like a gardener who selects plants so that something is in bloom all season long. It was developed in McKinsey's "alchemy of growth" research at the turn of the century. While not the most daring concept in the history of ideas, it's shrewd and a potentially valuable antidote to the kind of herky-jerky investment rhythms that budget-driven planning produces. I've been thinking about it in a different context: as a framework for developing a great working relationship between a person and his boss.

I recently heard the extraordinary story of the long, slow turnaround of Cummins Engines. Headquartered in tiny Columbus, Indiana, Cummins is one of those pride-of-America manufacturers who've had it tough for eons.

If you were to name this century's standout CEO in the consumer packaged goods industry, whom would you choose? Odds are you'd pick-me, too-Procter and Gamble's A. G. Lafley, who led the company from 2000 to 2009, during which time sales doubled and profits rose fourfold, an awesome performance by any standard.

I am tired of business people talking about how they make tough choices. The ersatz heroism is bad enough: See him there, the beleaguered executive, his spreadsheets drenched with sweat as he tosses and turns, making tough choices. Then there's the one-upmanship: "You think your choices are tough..." And - the sprinkles on the ice cream - since many tough choices involve layoffs, they are actually far tougher on someone else than on the decider.

Necessity is the mother of invention, goes the saying. But not so. A considerable body of research over many years has shown that pressure is an almost sure-fire way to shut down creativity. As a more accurate saying puts it: "Keep your ear to the ground, your nose to the grindstone, and your shoulder to the wheel. Now try to work in that position."

Branding confuses me. This is probably not smart to admit, since I’m a chief marketing officer, but it’s true. “Who’s in charge of brand in your organization?” someone recently asked me.

It’s spring, and what’s more fun than baseball’s opening day? Taking potshots at CEO pay. This is the time when proxy statements come out, CEO pay is disclosed (well, sort of disclosed, as we shall see), and bemoaned.