Ordering Systems - Part I
I was sitting at lunch the other day talking to an ex-lab rat who has moved on to greener pastures, and we got to talking about ordering systems and the current stinking mess that passes for such here at the Institute for Medical Advancement.
It strikes me that there are three basic models for institutional ordering. The first, which I deem the American model, is where each group is autonomous and responsible for its own ordering and budget. At least I’m assuming this is what happens from what I’ve picked up in conversations with American colleagues and from the questions on the surveys we fill in for the SAB. I imagine that in this model Jane Labrat approaches Joe Labtech and asks for a particular reagent, or maybe writes it down. Joe picks up the Sigma catalogue, gets a product number, types on his computer, and picks up the ‘phone or sends a fax directly to Sigma, who will then despatch the reagent directly to the lab.
Jane and Joe’s lab probably has its own account with Sigma, and a credit card that they use for one-off orders from suppliers. This is an incredibly flexible system, allowing for directed purchasing deals, discounts, freebies and a single point of contact if something goes wrong. In more recent times this model allows direct ordering over the World Wide Web. It only works where you have the economy of scale of American-sized research groups - half a dozen post-docs and an army of grad students.
Groups here in Rightpondia tend to be much smaller, and can lead to the second model, which I will call ‘Uncle Bob’. Bob is a grey-haired chap of around fifty, who has an office on the ground floor and he will nod or smile as you come to work each morning. No one remembers Bob’s real name, and it’s suspected that his rather elegant wife also calls him that. This system is typical of small institutes and university satellites in the UK. No groups in this system are truly autonomous; ultimately all ordering requests and deliveries go through Bob. When you require a reagent, you take a hand-written order form down to Bob’s office, whereupon Bob will put down the paper and coffee and promise to deal with it. Strangely, no one ever sees Bob at the computer or fax machine, but orders placed up to five thirty in the evening invariably arrive next day. Bob himself (or his apprentice, who is called ‘John’ or possibly ‘Neville’) brings the stuff to the lab, to your very bench.
Bob knows everyone in the institute by their first or chosen name. He asks after your children by name. He prescribes gels and potions for your spouse’s ailments. If there is a problem with an order he will pick up the ‘phone, dial from memory and sort it out there and then. He never, ever asks which order you are asking about - he knows.
Bob can do the Times crossword without a dictionary or thesaurus. Sometimes he is called ‘Mike’, but this is probably only if his real name is ‘Robert’. It is rumoured he was Special Forces in the war (which war is undefined) which probably explains how he can get 75% discounts on everything, and source BSE-free foetal calf serum when all the cell culture in the rest of the country has starved to death.
To be continued . . .
Posted on Wednesday, June 1st, 2005 at 3:13 am Categorized as:General You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
