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Who owns operational improvement when everyone is billable?

Printed team resourcing plan with most weeks fully booked and an empty row at the bottom

Most growing digital businesses have a spreadsheet somewhere that tells them how busy everyone is.

It has names down the side, weeks across the top and the cells change colour once someone is comfortably over 75%. Useful as it is, it rarely has a row for improving how the business runs, so that work never gets booked anywhere.

At fifteen people that doesn't matter too much. The founder, or one of the first senior hires, fixes things as they go. A messy handover gets tidied up over lunch, and the proposal template gets rewritten on a Sunday afternoon because it had been irritating someone for months.

Improvement happens all the time, but nobody calls it that, and its cost is invisible because the person doing it isn't being measured on billable hours.

Somewhere between thirty and sixty people that arrangement starts to wear thin. The founder is selling, hiring or running the finance side. That early senior hire now leads three client accounts and is booked at 90% most weeks. Revenue is up and the team is the strongest it has been, but the habits built at fifteen people are now responsible for three times the work.

Where the hours go

In a business that sells people's time, every hour has an obvious home. Client work gets billed and new business gets forecast, and even internal admin has a code. Improving how the business runs, whether that's how work gets scoped or how teams hand over to each other, usually has no home at all, so it competes for whatever is left.

Nobody is choosing badly when this happens. A missed client deadline has a consequence everyone can see by Friday. A weak scoping process costs a few hours on every project for a year, and by the time anyone adds it up it has been blamed on the brief or the timeline.

So improvement gets picked up by whoever cares most about it. Often that's a delivery lead or an operations manager, sometimes a senior developer with strong views about how releases should work.

They do good work for a quarter, frequently in their own time, and then a large project arrives and the work stops without anyone deciding it should. Twelve months later someone else takes on a slightly different version of the same problem, using slightly different language, and starts again from roughly the same place.

I've written before about delivery improvement ownership inside agency teams, where it tends to fall to whoever has the most energy that quarter. Client services and operations teams lose improvement work in much the same way.

Why it can't sit solely with the team

The people closest to the friction usually know what needs to change. They rarely have the authority to trade billable time for it. A project manager can see that the business would benefit from two days spent rebuilding how it estimates, but they can't decide that a client deliverable moves back a week to make room for that. That call belongs to whoever holds the commercial picture, which in most growing businesses means a director or the leadership team.

When a director takes improvement on as part of their own job, improvement time starts appearing in the resourcing plan with a name next to it. Decisions about client work versus process work then get made in the same meeting as other commercial calls, by someone who can actually make them.

What protected time looks like

In the businesses I've watched do this well, the commitment is fairly small: a session every week or two where improvement is the only agenda item, owned by one person at leadership level. They rarely work on more than two changes at once.

One studio I worked with, around forty people and comfortably profitable, had a utilisation target of 85% and no internal code for process work at all. Lowering the target to 80% for four senior people, and naming what those hours were for, freed up roughly fifteen hours a fortnight. Within two quarters their estimates were consistently closer to actuals, and the directors were no longer the default escalation point for every scoping question.

That session is usually the first thing cancelled in a busy quarter, which is exactly when operational problems cost the most. A delivery health check is often where I start with this, working out where the problems actually sit before agreeing with leadership who leads on improvement and how much time it realistically gets allocated.

It doesn't finish

Improvement in a growing business has no end date. A scoping process built for thirty people starts creaking well before fifty. The businesses that cope with growth best make improvement a standing part of how leadership spends its week, and keep it there through the busy months.

If it goes well, the leadership role will get less noisy. Teams start adjusting things without waiting to be asked, and the fortnightly session becomes a short check on progress.

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