There are moments in life when you question every career choice that brought you to this point. For me, that moment was during the post-ERP go-live review meeting at a manufacturing company, when the CFO and CIO—once sworn enemies—suddenly found a common enemy: me.
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Ah, the classic plot twist. Two arch-rivals uniting against a third party. Congratulations—you’re now the villain in their buddy-cop sequel.”
The meeting had already escalated into a chaotic battle of egos and accusations. But once the CEO entered and temporarily quelled the storm, the real fun began. Because nothing unites rivals like blaming the consultant.
The Setup: Post-Project Peace? Not a Chance
The meeting started innocently enough. The CEO entered, restored some order, and then turned to me for my expert opinion. Little did I know that his exit a few minutes later would leave me as the proverbial deer in a lion’s den.
CEO: “I trust you’ll work this out constructively. Let’s get it done.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Translation: I’m leaving before the shouting starts again. Also, if anyone asks, I was never here.”
As soon as the CEO walked out, the CFO and CIO turned toward me in perfect unison—like synchronized swimmers in a pool of passive-aggressive rage.
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Well done, genius. You just got left alone with the only two people in the building who hate each other more than they hate budget overruns. And guess what? Right now, they hate you more than both.”
Round 1: CFO’s Opening Salvo
CFO: “Let’s start with why this system doesn’t provide consolidated profit margin reports. You promised we’d get those out of the box!”
Me (calmly): “Yes, but during the requirements phase, it was decided that—”
CFO (interrupting): “I don’t want to hear about the requirements phase! You’re the expert. You should’ve known we’d need them!”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Ah yes, because consultants are born with a divine third eye that can see unspoken Excel wishes from three departments away.”
Me: “We can absolutely address that with a customization. It’s a simple—”
CFO: “Customization? After we spent millions? Isn’t this what we paid for in the first place?”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Right. You bought a microwave and are mad it didn’t come with a Netflix subscription.”
Round 2: CIO Joins the Fray
CIO (jumping in): “Don’t act like this is just a finance issue. Half the system doesn’t work because your team didn’t properly understand our IT landscape.”
Me: “Actually, we aligned with your IT team before implementation—”
CIO (cutting me off): “Aligned? You call that alignment? Your team didn’t even know our database version was outdated!”
Me: “That’s because your team didn’t tell us until after the installation began.”
CIO: “You’re the experts! You should’ve asked!”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Apparently, your job also includes guessing the database version through interpretive dance. Next time bring a crystal ball and a shaman.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Also, side note: love how ‘expert’ means ‘we’ll blame you for what we forgot to tell you.’ Truly, language evolves beautifully in ERP warfare.”
My Counterattack: The Art of Blame Redirection
With both of them coming at me like a corporate tag team, I realized it was time to channel my inner judo master—deflecting their accusations back onto them, gently, but with enough force to knock some reality into the room.
Me (to the CFO): “The profit margin issue could’ve been resolved earlier if your team had provided clear reporting requirements during the design phase. We repeatedly asked for inputs, but there were delays.”
CFO (stammering): “Well, we didn’t know what we needed until we saw the system.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Let me get this straight—you didn’t know what you wanted, but you’re upset I didn’t magically code it into existence anyway? Love that for us.”
Me: “That’s understandable, but it’s precisely why we suggested a workshop to identify potential gaps. Unfortunately, that was postponed three times.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Three times. That’s not a workshop—that’s a ghost story.”
Me (to the CIO): “As for the IT challenges, we flagged the outdated database issue during the first system audit. We recommended an upgrade, but your team decided to proceed without it due to budget constraints.”
CIO (visibly irritated): “We didn’t have time for upgrades!”
Me: “And that’s why some of the integrations are running slower than expected. Once the upgrade is complete, those issues will resolve.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“You envisioned a concert at Carnegie Hall, refused to rehearse, and now you’re surprised it sounds like a school recital.”
Round 3: The CFO and CIO’s United Front
Realizing they couldn’t outright blame me, the CFO and CIO shifted tactics and suddenly stood shoulder to shoulder—like they’d rehearsed it.
CFO: “Okay, but why weren’t these risks highlighted during your sales pitch?”
CIO: “Exactly! Your team made it sound like ERP would solve everything!”
Me (with a smile): “Our pitch emphasized that ERP is a tool—it’s only as good as the processes and data it supports. We also discussed the importance of change management.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Which clearly fell on ears so deaf, they probably thought ‘change management’ meant swapping the coffee vendor.”
CFO: “Change management? You mean training? We’ve already done that!”
Me: “Training is part of it, but real change management involves aligning teams, clarifying roles, and ensuring collaboration between departments.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“I mean, yes, if you consider printing one laminated process chart and sending a ‘Let’s do this!’ email as change management, then sure—job well done.”
The Final Blow: Turning the Tables
By now, I could tell they were running out of steam. So, I went for the kill.
Me: “Ultimately, the system reflects the business processes it’s built on. If there are gaps, they usually point to process misalignments or insufficient planning during implementation.”
CFO: “Are you saying this is our fault?”
Me: “Not at all. I’m saying it’s a shared responsibility. Successful ERP projects require close collaboration between the implementation team and the client’s stakeholders.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“And by ‘shared responsibility,’ I mean I did my part, now go yell at yourselves in the mirror.”
The Aftermath: A Fragile Truce
After several more minutes of low-grade grumbling, the CFO begrudgingly admitted that his team needed to clarify their reporting requirements. The CIO reluctantly agreed to schedule the long-postponed database upgrade.
As I packed up my laptop, The Cynic Upstairs stood, stretched, and cracked his knuckles like a retired warrior coming out of sabbatical.
The Cynic Upstairs:
“Congratulations. You survived the CFO-CIO crossfire without bleeding out. That’s got to be worth, what—a LinkedIn endorsement?”
Me: “Barely.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“You know they’ll blame you again next month, right? Probably during a birthday celebration or fire drill.”
Me: “Probably.”
I walked out of the meeting room like a veteran leaving a war zone—scarred, exhausted, and already mentally preparing for the next ambush disguised as a ‘review session.’
The Cynic Upstairs:
“ERP projects: come for the transformation, stay for the passive-aggressive showdowns.”
Me: “At least there was coffee.”
The Cynic Upstairs:
“That wasn’t coffee. That was survival juice.”
The battle may have ended, but the war? Oh, the war had only just begun.