Raising the Bar
The Raising the Bar Programme
1. Where Performance Management becomes Raising the Bar
MODULE 1
A planned meeting with Coach introduces a completely different way of thinking about performance management
First Impressions
I arrived at 9 a.m. sharp, notebook in hand.
I didn’t normally write longhand, but tapping on a tablet felt impersonal.
This meeting felt different.
Anne, Coach’s PA, greeted me and led me into a prepared boardroom. A flipchart stood to the side with one word written neatly across the top:
WELCOME
On the screen was a simple welcome slide.
Coach stood, smiled, and extended his hand.
“Joe — welcome.”
The handshake was firm. The smile warm.
For the first time in weeks, I felt… important.
“I’m the Raising the Bar Coach,” he said. “But just call me Coach.”
Anne returned with fresh coffee and warm croissants.
Lunch, Coach added casually, had also been arranged.
This was clearly going to be a full day.
After a few warm-up questions about my journey in, Coach gestured for me to help myself to refreshments. His voice was calm, confident, and reassuring the voice of someone who was very practised in what he was doing.
He clicked to the next slide.
“My official role,” he said, “is to train and develop managers. That’s what I do. Usually one-to-one with newly appointed middle managers in large organisations, or senior managers in smaller, flatter ones like yours.”
He paused.
“So if I’ve been assigned to work with you
directly Joe, and you being a line manager… you must be pretty important to this organisation.”It echoed exactly what Ray had implied.
Coach clicked again.
“You can break my work into two parts,” he explained. “Management development focuses on the management team, workshops, seminars, for experienced managers, training courses for new ones.”
“Manager development, which is what we’re doing today, focuses on the individual manager. One-to-one coaching. Support. Hands-on development.”
He paused again.
“So, Joe, for the record, you’re starting a Manager Development Programme. And this is your first Manager Development Workshop.”
“Ok?”
I nodded.
Coach clicked to the next slide.
“Everything we discuss is confidential,” he said. “You can speak freely, about your team, your boss, your challenges and your worries. It stays between us. What is said in the room, stays in the room. For this to work, I need total honesty.”
He held eye contact.
“I can’t advise on what I don’t know, so I need you to be honest with me and tell me everything.”
I nodded, feeling the importance of it.
Reading the words about trust, it suddenly hit me: this was why communication with Alan had been so difficult.
It had never just been about me personally.
It had been about trust.
There wasn’t any. And I still didn’t know why.
“Can I take a photo of that slide?” I asked.
Coach smiled.
“You’ll get the full slide pack at the end of today.”
He topped up his coffee.
“Now,” he said, “tell me about yourself and your rise into management. How did you get here? Start with your education and previous jobs.”
Barry
I admitted I’d left school with no qualifications and landed in the sales and administration industry by accident.
But I liked the work and I liked the people.
And more than anything, I liked my first manager, Barry.
“What did you like most about Barry?” Coach asked.
“People said he was a hard taskmaster,” I replied. “But really, he just had high standards. If you made a mistake, he treated it as part of learning but not if you made the same mistake twice.”
Coach nodded.
“And when people didn’t meet his standards?”
“He told them. Politely at first. But if that didn’t work… let’s just say they didn’t last in the job long.”
I paused.
“What I admired most,” I continued, “was that he gave people a chance to learn. Sometimes he gave tough assignments, but you never feared failure, because you knew he’d support you.”
“Barry had promoted me to team leader when I was young and inexperienced.
It caused controversy, especially with older and more experienced colleagues.”
“Resentment?” Coach asked.
“Definitely,” I said. “Stepping away from the friendship circle with my work mates was a condition of the appointment. It was rough at first, but eventually they accepted me as a manager.”
“So why did you leave? Or want to leave?”
“There was a reorganisation. I got a new boss. We didn’t get on. He wasn’t a good manager and he knew I knew it. That’s when the problems started.”
“What was the main issue?”
“He was soft. The team walked all over him. Standards dropped and when I tried to raise them, people ran to him to complain and he backed them.”
I paused.
“Under Barry, I felt like a manager. Under the new manager? I felt like a glorified employee.”
Coach pointed back at the trust slide.
“There’s your root cause.”
And he was right.
We didn’t trust each other.
And without trust, nothing else works.
Coach stood, walked to the flipchart, uncapped a marker, and wrote in bold, deliberate strokes:
He turned back to me.
“Case in point?”
I nodded.
“When I was in middle management,” Coach said, “I watched very carefully whenever I appointed a new manager. If the poor performers left, fine. That was usually a positive sign.”
He smiled lightly.
“But if the good people left? That was a genuine red flag to me.”
He paused to let that land.
“And if no one left at all?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“That worried me too. It meant the new manager might just be maintaining the status quo
and I didn’t recruit managers to do that.” He smiled.
“So, any resignations since you started?”
“Yes,” I said. “Two.”
“Were you sorry to see them go?”
“Not at all. Definitely in the not-so-good camp.”
He tapped the flipchart with the end of the marker.
“There you go,” he said. “Confirmation you may be doing something right.”
Mentoring
“How did you get this job?” Coach asked.
I smiled.
“I was headhunted. Out of the blue.”
“I didn’t even know how they got my name. Later, I found out it was Barry. He knew I was unhappy and had quietly put my name forward.”
Coach turned to the flipchart, flipped the page, and wrote in bold block capitals:
Underneath, he added a short list:
He stepped aside so I could see the full list.
“Everyone knows mentors Train and coach.” he said. “But great mentors do more. They protect you. They open doors. They pass on their good values. Just like Barry did for you.”
I nodded slowly.
“But why did he do it?” I asked. “He didn’t have to.”
“He chose to,” Coach replied. “He risked his own reputation. He stuck his neck out because he believed in you.”
He paused for a moment, letting the truth land.
“That’s mentoring.”
Then he added something that stayed with me for a long time.
“Mentoring should be free. You don’t do it for money. You do it because you care enough about the person to give your time and energy.”
I had always known Barry was a good coach and trainer.
But in that moment, I realised something else.
He had been a mentor too.
And I had never fully recognised it until then.
Current picture
“OK, Joe,” Coach said. “Let’s begin. Take me through what you’ve taken on — everything you’ve seen, experienced, fixed, and struggled with. Don’t leave anything out.”
He held up his tablet.
“I’ll be taking notes while you talk. Sound OK?”
“Yes,” I said.
And then… I let it all out.
“I was appointed Sales Administration Manager three months ago,” I started.
“It’s a sales and admin support function. Once sales are achieved, we handle everything afterwards, contracts, delivery, customer queries.”
“So you’re customer-facing and cross-functional,” Coach said.
“Exactly. And when things go wrong, missing paperwork, late contracts, errors, it doesn’t just hit us. It hits other departments too. That’s why we’re seen as unreliable.”
Coach tapped quietly on his tablet.
“I manage a team of twenty. Some long-serving, some very new. I don’t have a deputy though I’ve been told I can recruit one.”
Coach raised an eyebrow at that.
I continued.
“The previous manager, John, didn’t manage performance. At all. Poor behaviour wasn’t challenged. Absence is a concern. Someone is off sick almost every week. I’ve got one person on long-term sick and Alan won’t authorise a temp. Told me to ‘cope.’”
I exhaled.
“And I’ve got two new employees, barely trained, under pressure, struggling.”
But the real problem I could not wait to talk to someone about.
“And then there’s Peter,” I said quietly.
“Long-serving. Uncooperative. Does what he wants. He’s undermined managers before me, used grievances to push back whenever anyone calls out his performance or behaviour.”
“Everyone avoids him when they can. He’s toxic. Negative. He drags others down.”
Coach stayed silent, typing like fury, encouraging me to continue.
“The previous manager who left suddenly,” I added. “Rumours say he had to apologise to Peter after a grievance outcome and it finished him. He just walked.”
Coach looked up sharply.
“And none of this was explained to you?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Alan just said the department needed turning around.”
He frowned. “Did you ask Alan directly about Peter?”
“I did. He brushed it off. Said Peter just needed managing ‘properly.’”
“And HR?”
“I asked Justin, our HR Manager, about the grievance. He said it was confidential and he was not allowed to give me any details.
When I said I didn’t want to make the same mistakes as the last manager, he still refused.”
I shook my head.
“I even asked for attendance records, so I could tackle the absence problem but he blocked that too. Said it was ‘data protection.’”
Coach raised his eyebrows.
“That’s not support,” he said. “Especially not from HR.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t understand it.”
He paused.
“You’ve taken on a lot, Joe — especially for your first real management role.”
“I know,” I replied. “I’m not afraid of the challenges. I want to turn the department around. I just can’t figure out Alan. The lack of training. The lack of support. The constant criticism. It’s like he doesn’t want me to succeed.”
I shook my head slowly.
“It feels like Alan and Justin are waiting for me to fail.”
Coach stood, pulled down a fresh flipchart sheet, and wrote one word in large clean strokes: Politics.
“Joe,” he said, turning back to me.
“You haven’t just inherited a struggling department. You’ve walked straight into a political situation.”
He tapped the pen on the paper and then explained what was meant by politics.
He then went on:
“There’s history between Ray and Alan.”
I frowned. “What kind of history?”
“Alan didn’t pick you,” Coach said plainly. “Ray did.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Alan had others in mind, including your bad apple.”
“Peter was being considered for my job?”
“Yes. Alan asked Ray to interview him. Ray refused, because of Peter’s he had not had positive feedback about him.”
I sat back, stunned.
“Joe,” Coach said gently, “there’s a very real possibility Alan doesn’t want you to succeed.
Because if you turn the department around, Ray gets the credit — and Alan loses face.”
“People protect their position,” he said. “They play games. They exaggerate mistakes. They push blame down and take credit for others success.”
I swallowed.
“So… I need to learn to play politics?”
Coach turned to me sharply.
“Absolutely not. Good managers manage politics.
Bad managers play politics.”
“But if you ignore politics, you’ll get blindsided.
If you start playing politics, people will see it and you’ll lose your integrity and any good reputation you have.”
“So you need to learn how to manage politics.”
He stepped closer.
“You’re in the big leagues now, Joe.
Play it straight and play it smart.”
I ran a hand through my hair.
“So let me get this right.
I’ve inherited a failing department… a bad apple who wanted my job… and a boss who doesn’t want me to succeed?”
“That’s about right,” Coach said calmly.
“For a first-time manager… isn’t that too much?”
“For an experienced one too,” he admitted. “But Barry’s reputation carries weight with Ray. Barry told him you had potential, if you had support.”
He gestured around the room.
“That’s why I’m here.”
It hit me hard.
If I failed, I wouldn’t just let Ray down.
I’d let Barry down too.
Coach broke the silence with a question.
“If you could wish one thing for your department, big picture, long term — what would it be?”
I thought for a moment.
“I wish the department was respected across the business. Right now… it’s embarrassing.”
Coach nodded, pleased.
“Good answer.”
He closed his notebook.
Performance Management Explained
“OK,” Coach said. “Let’s start by looking at why you’re here, what we will be covering today and my role.”
He stepped towards the screen.
“When you take on the role of manager, you automatically take responsibility for the performance and behaviour of your people. From day one, improving performance where needed becomes part of the job.”
He looked directly at me.
“Agree, Joe?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“I’m glad about that,” he replied. “Because managing performance is not optional. It is what managers are paid to do.”
He smiled.
“When you manage people, Joe, every manager needs to understand and become skilled in one thing.”
He clicked the remote. A single phrase filled the screen.
“But tell me,” he asked, “what comes to mind when you see those words?”
I didn’t even have to think.
“Disciplinary,” I said. “Performance plans. Warnings. Dismissals.”
Coach nodded slowly.“Exactly. That’s how most people see it.
Performance management has become associated with punishment, conflict and fallout. It has developed a bad reputation.”
He paused.
“But it actually means a lot more than that.”
He clicked again.
“That,” he said, tapping the screen, “is what performance management really means.”
He pointed to the first highlighted word.
“When we talk about standards, we are talking about the standards managers use to manage employees against.”
“Things like company values. Operating
standards. Attendance. Behaviour standards. The level people are expected to work at.”
“Tools are the practical things managers use to manage, improve and reward performance.”
“Job descriptions. Targets. KPIs. Goals. Reviews. Notes and records.
“And procedures are the formal frameworks managers need to follow.”
“Induction procedures. Review processes. Annual appraisals. Informal improvement processes. Formal performance procedures. Disciplinary and Grievance procedures.”
He turned back towards me.
“That is why performance management is far bigger than most people realise.”
He paused briefly.
“It is not just about dealing with poor performers.”
“It is the complete process of managing people properly.”
I nodded slowly.
“In reality, performance management sits behind almost everything a manager does.”
He began counting on his fingers.
“Every standard you set.”
“Every expectation you clarify.”
“Every goal you set.”
“Every piece of feedback you give.”
“Every review, appraisal or difficult conversation you hold.”
”It all comes under the umbrella of performance management.”
He paused.
“When you really understand performance management, Joe, you realise it is not a separate management task.”
“It is management.”
I looked back at the slide.
Put like that, it suddenly sounded obvious.
But until that moment, I had never truly thought about it that way before.
Coach could see from my expression that something had clicked.
“The problem with performance management training,” he continued, “is that there is simply too much to cover properly.”
He walked slowly back towards the projected slide.
“Most organisations end up giving managers training on odd parts only. Usually appraisals. Sometimes disciplinaries. Maybe grievance handling if they are lucky.”
He shrugged.
“But performance management is much bigger than that.”
He tapped the slide behind him.
“Standards. Objectives. Reviews. Difficult conversations. Motivation. Documentation. Absence. Development. Behaviour. Formal procedures. Politics. Communication.”
He looked directly at me.
“No odd course can fully prepare someone for all of that.”
“Which is why most managers learn performance management the hard way.”
“By doing it.”
“By making mistakes.”
“By dealing with situations as they arise and learning along the way.”
He smiled slightly.
“The problem is, Joe, some mistakes in management can become very expensive lessons.”
Raising the Bar
“So where does Raising the Bar come in?” I asked.
Coach turned back to the screen.
The words Performance Management were still displayed.
He picked up the remote.
One click.
The slide cleared. A new heading appeared.
“Raising the Bar,” Coach said, pointing at the screen, “is the modern interpretation of performance management.”
“It shifts the mindset. It doesn’t sound formal, administrative or punitive. It sounds constructive. Practical. And, most importantly, objective rather than personal.”
I nodded.
I could immediately see the difference.
“Traditionally,” Coach continued, “performance management has often been treated as a collection of separate procedures. Appraisals over here. Discipline over there. reviews somewhere else.”
He shook his head.
“But RTB brings everything together and links it into one clear framework.”
He held up his hands, almost framing the idea in the air.
“Everything joins up. Nothing is ad hoc anymore. No more patchwork approach to managing performance.”
He looked directly at me.
“From this point on, I want you to stop thinking in terms of traditional performance management. Start thinking in terms of Raising the Bar.”
“Every tool.”
“Every process.”
“Every conversation.”
“They all fall under this framework.”
“Can you do that?”
“Easily,” I said. “It makes total sense.”
Coach smiled.
The Bar
“Good. Then let me show you what we mean when we refer to The Bar.”
He clicked the slide.
He paused.
“But here’s the problem, Joe.”
“Most organisations create job descriptions, file them away and then rarely use them properly again.”
He looked directly at me.
“They become administrative documents instead of performance management tools.”
“Let me ask you something.”
“Do you have a copy of your own job description?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I was given one when I got the job.”
“Where is it now?”
I hesitated.
“To be honest, I’ve no idea. Somewhere in a drawer. I’ve got an electronic copy filed away as well, but I haven’t looked at it since I started.”
Coach smiled.
“Case in point.”
He turned back to the screen.
“That is exactly what happens in most organisations.”
“The document that should define performance standards becomes forgotten paperwork.”
He paused again.
“Raising the Bar does something completely different.”
“It puts the job description at the very centre of performance management.”
I nodded slowly.
“The reason is simple.”
“If the role defines what good performance looks like, then the job description becomes The Bar.”
“So the job description stops being paperwork and becomes the foundation of the whole process?”
“Exactly,” Coach replied.
“And once you have a clarified Bar, identifying gaps between what should be achieved and what is being achieved becomes much easier.”
"And how do you close the gap and raise the Bar?"
He clicked to the next slide.
“The Bar,” Coach said, “is simply the required standard of performance. The minimum level someone needs to operate at to do the job properly, meet expectations, and earn their pay.”
“It’s the job description,” I said.
“Exactly,” he replied. “The job description defines what good performance looks like.”
“This,” Coach explained, “is the Bar–Gap Cycle.”
“A practical people performance management cycle designed to help managers manage performance in a structured, fair, and consistent way.”
He pointed towards the slide.
“It works because almost every people situation
starts with the same two questions.”
He tapped the screen.
“What is the required standard?”
“The Bar.”
He paused.
“And where is the person currently performing against that standard?”
“The Gap.”
Coach nodded.
“Once you understand those two things, the managing performance becomes much clearer.”
“Clarify The Bar.”
“Identify the Gap.”
“Close the Gap.”
“Review the Gap.”
“Repeat where necessary.”
He stepped back.
The Job Description defines the standard. The Bar–Gap Cycle drives improvement. Together they form the engine of The Raising the Bar Way.
The Annual Review
Pointing at the screen the reason this works so well is because the same cycle can be applied in all performance situations.”
“What do you mean in all situation? I asked.
“Let me explain, do you have an annual appraisal process?” Coach asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “Appraisals are due in a few months and I have to carry them out.”
I hesitated.
“To be honest, I am worried about them. I have never conducted an employee appraisal before and I still do not know the team particularly well.”
“I am hoping HR will help me through it.”
Coach nodded calmly.
“Were any goals or objectives set last year for you to review?”
“I do not think so,” I admitted. “At the moment, I can only really assess people against the targets and KPIs they were given.”
“Well, at least that gives you something to work with,” Coach replied.
“Were any reviews carried out during the year?”
“I have not done any,” I said. “And I am fairly certain the previous manager did not either.”
Coach smiled knowingly.
“And that,” he said, “is how many organisations approach performance management.”
“One annual appraisal.”
“No proper follow-through.”
“No meaningful goals.”
“No regular reviews.”
He changed the slide.
Annual Review
“The Bar–Gap approach changes that.”
He pointed towards the screen.
“When appraisal time comes, you assess employees against The Bar.”
“The job description.”
“You identify the Gaps between current
performance and the required standard.”
“Then you agree development goals, create plans to close the Gap, and review progress properly throughout the year.”
He paused.
“That is what turns an appraisal from a yearly paperwork exercise into a perpetual performance improvement process.”
He looked directly at me.
“And for you, Joe, the appraisals coming up, is actually an opportunity.”
“A chance to restart the process properly.”
My mind was reeling, maybe the upcoming appraisals were not as big an issue as I had been thinking.
New Employee Induction
“Do you have any new employees?” Coach asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “Two of them. Both are struggling.”
“They are coming towards the end of their probation period and I need to make a decision.”
I hesitated.
“One will probably make it.”
“The other… I thin, I am going to have to let him go.”
Coach nodded thoughtfully.
“Were they given any induction goals when they started?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“A clear list of what they needed to achieve by the end of the induction period.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Were proper reviews carried out during the induction period?”
“Do you mean probation? I asked.
“Yes I do, but probation sounds negative, I prefer to use the term induction..
Never thought of it that way, but it did make sense.
“No formal reviews have been done but I have given them feedback.” I said.
“Did you record the details in any way. Times dates etc?
“No I haven’t” I said awkwardly. .
Coach leaned back slightly.
“Then it would be difficult to say they have gone through a fair induction process, wouldn’t it?”
I nodded slowly.
“Yes,” I admitted. “It feels unprofessional.”
“Do not beat yourself up about it,” Coach said calmly. “Very few organisations run a proper induction process.”
“Most new employees are simply given the job, with no direction, progress reviews. And then become shocked and angry when told they have not passed their induction and asked to leave.
“No induction goals.”
“No proper training plans.”
“No structured reviews.”
“No real end-of-induction appraisal.”
Is very unprofessional and grossly unfair.
He changed the slide.
New Employee Induction
“But now you have a process to follow.”
He pointed towards the screen.
“If you decide one of the new employees has not achieved the standard, you can extend the induction. “You can formally extend the induction period.”
“Restart the process properly.”
“Clarify The Bar.”
“Identify the Gaps.”
“Set clear induction goals.”
“Put training and support plans in place.”
“Review progress properly.”
He smiled slightly.
“That allows you to make a fair and professional decision based on evidence, not instinct and personal opinion alone.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“I wish I had known all this when I first appointed them.”
Coach nodded.
“Most frontline managers say exactly the same thing.”
Early Intervention
“You said you had a bad apple in the team?” Coach asked.
“Yes, one that is causing me a lot of problems. I replied.
“Is the employee currently on any formal warning or procedure?”
“No. The previous manager just let him get away with things.”
Coach nodded slowly.
“And that is where many managers go wrong.”
“They either ignore performance problems completely…”
“Or jump straight into formal action far too quickly.”
He changed the slide.
Early Intervention
“This cycle is about early correction.”
“Supportive intervention.”
“Not punishment.”
He pointed towards the screen.
“You still follow the same process.”
“Clarify The Bar.”
“Identify the Gap.”
“Agree improvement goals.”
“Put support and review plans in place.”
He folded his arms.
“The aim is to help employees improve before problems become formal.”
“And many performance issues can be corrected at this stage, if managers deal with them early enough.”
He looked directly towards me.
“Most poor performers are never actually shown the Gap clearly.”
“They are often left underperforming for months… sometimes forever.”
I nodded quietly.
That sounded painfully familiar.
“Managers are not always avoiding problems because they lack courage,” Coach continued calmly.
“Many simply do not know where to start.”
“They are unsure what to say, what standard to work to, or how to structure conversations properly.”
He tapped the slide lightly.
“That is why the Early Intervention Cycle matters.”
“It gives managers a practical process to work to.”
“Clarity.”
“Structure.”
“Direction.”
“And the confidence to act before problems become formal.”
Formal Intervention
“And if the employee still does not improve?” I asked.
Coach clicked the remote.
A new slide appeared.
Formal Intervention
“This is where the process becomes formal,” Coach said.
“But notice something important.”
He pointed towards the screen.
“The approach itself does not change.”
“You still clarify The Bar.”
“You still identify the Gap.”
“You still set goals.”
“You still review progress.”
“The difference is that formal procedures, timescales, warnings, and consequences are now introduced.”
He folded his arms.
“What protects managers at this stage is structure.”
“A fair process.”
“Clear expectations.”
“Documented reviews.”
“Evidence that support and opportunities to improve were provided.”
He looked directly at me.
“Employees may not always like the process, Joe, but they should never be confused by it.”
“They should understand the standard required, where they are falling short, what support is available, and what happens if improvement does not take place.”
He paused.
“That is what makes the process fair a d reasonable.”
“And professionally defendable.”
I nodded.
For the first time, performance management no longer felt random.
It felt structured.
Practical and professional.
Coach smiled.
“And that, Joe, is why RTB works.”
“One clear track.”
“One consistent approach.”
“Just to finish, Joe, there are two other situations where the Bar–Gap approach should be used.”
He changed the slide
Talent Management
“The process is exactly the same,” Coach explained. “But in this case, The Bar becomes the role the employee is aiming to move into.”
He pointed towards the screen.
“The future role.”
“The future standard.”
“The future expectations.”
“You assess where the employee currently sits against that next-level role.”
“The Gap becomes the difference between current performance and future-role expectations.”
He smiled slightly.
“That allows managers to develop talent using clear standards rather than subjective opinion.”
“Clear development goals and plans.”
“Clear progress reviews.”
“And finally.”
He changed the slide again.
Reward Management
“In this situation,” Coach continued, “The Bar becomes the level of achievement required to receive reward.”
“Targets.”
“KPIs.”
“Performance standards.”
“Objectives achieved.”
“The process is still exactly the same.”
“Clarify the standard required to earn the reward.”
“Measure performance against it.”
“Identify the Gap.”
“Review the results.”
He folded his arms.
“That is what makes reward more objective and fair.”
“Same process.”
“Does all this make sense, Joe?”
“Complete sense,” I replied. “It is much easier to think in terms of gaps rather than simply underperformance.”
My mind was already beginning to think in Gap terms.
Coach clicked the slide.
A series of tracks, routes, and pathways connected together into what looked like a complete people management system.
Coach noticed my expression and smiled.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
I nodded.
"It certainly looks it."
He walked towards the screen.
"What you've been looking at this morning are the individual parts."
"The Annual Review Cycle."
"The New Employee Cycle."
"The Early Intervention Cycle."
"The Formal Intervention Cycle."
He paused.
"This slide shows how they all connect together."
I studied the diagram more closely.
For the first time, I could see the whole picture.
This wasn't a collection of separate procedures.
It was one complete performance management system.
One route. One framework. One way of thinking.
Coach tapped the screen.
"This is The Raising the Bar Track."
"The complete employee journey."
"Every employee is somewhere on the track."
"New employees enter through induction."
"Most employees spend their time in the Annual Review Cycle."
"Some move into development and talent programmes."
"Some require early intervention."
"A small number require formal intervention."
He looked towards me.
"But every route follows the same principle."
"The Bar." "The Gap." "The Plan." "The Review."
I nodded slowly.
Coach smiled.
“So before we break for lunch and stretch our legs, let me give you a quick summary you can come back to later.”
1. Performance Management Is Bigger Than Most Managers Realise
“Joe, performance management isn’t something managers do occasionally — it’s how managers manage.”
2. Raising the Bar Is a More Practical Way of Thinking
“People resist being managed. Few people resist being helped to improve.”
3. The Job Description Becomes the Bar
“If people don’t know what good looks like, they can’t be expected to achieve it.”
4. The Gap Is the Difference Between Required and Actual Performance
“You can’t close a gap until you can clearly see it.”
5. The Same Process Applies Across Different Situations
“Different people. Different situations. Same management process.”
Coach smiled and capped his pen.
“Well, Joe,” he said, stepping away from the screen, “I think that’s enough Raising the Bar for one morning.”
He glanced at the clock.
“Lunch.”
He smiled warmly.
“I think we’ve deserved it.”
Important Reading
[APPENDICES NOTE]
See Appendices 1–8 for email exchanges between Barry, Ray, Coach and Alan related to this chapter.