Anytime I'd pass a Container Store, an old "Saturday Night Live" skit would pop into my head. You know the one I'm talking about, right? "
The Scotch Boutique," wherein nothing but tape products of the "sticky" variety are sold by proprietor Fred Willard and his
trusting, cheerful but increasingly skeptical staff. Or, as the case may be, not sold.
Well, I had just finished reading the depressing news in The New York Times a few weeks ago that
"curling up by the fire may be the next eco-crime" -- more about which another time -- when something
caught my eye. It was really just a subhed on the bottom of an otherwise rather conventional back-page retail ad trumpeting The Container Store's annual 30%-off "elfa" shelving sale: "What we stand for®," it read. Intrigued by a registration mark on something seemingly so
innocuous, I read more:
advertisement
advertisement
"We're thrilled to announce a new online community for our employees, our customers, our vendors and our nonprofit partners. Visit our enhanced blog at
standfor.containerstore.com to learn more about our unique, employee-first culture, tell us about your experiences and become an even bigger part of What We Stand For | Organization With Heart®.
Having had no experiences to write about, I knew it was time for a field trip to the store in suburban White
Plains, N.Y., which I undertook last Saturday. I was immediately greeted when I walked in. No, I wasn't looking for anything in particular, I said. I had passed by the store many times and finally
decided to check it out.
"You'd be surprised how many people have told me that," Michael said pleasantly. "If you have any questions, just ask anyone in a red apron."
And that was that. Phew.
In most stores, I'm one of those guys who will divert my eyes and kick into overdrive towards the water cooler if a salesperson appears to be drawing a bead on
me. But the Container Store immediately felt different. And so did I.
Maybe it was the cashier who was softly singing the chorus to "Is You Is Or Is You
Ain't My Baby?" as other checkers chatted amiably with customers and I perused the nearby rack of irresistible goodies like LED key rings, mini screw drivers and Fuzzy Fingers. I grabbed a staple-less stapler before moving on to the larger world of drawer organizers and bins,
brushes and drainers, boxes and wrapping paper, luggage and backpacks, hooks and cord clasps, shoe bins and garment bags and, of course, all manner of adjustable shelving and boxes for closets,
entertainment centers and home offices.
Along the way, I actually had a pleasant encounter with a man in a red apron about the relative merits of various trashcans with lids. I didn't buy, but I walked away guilt-free, feeling that he actually enjoyed imparting what he knew.
As I was checking out with
assorted items after an hour or so of slack-jawed wonderment about all the things I could do to better organize my life, I mentioned to the cashier that there seemed to be a very cheerful vibe to the
store.
"We try to keep it that way," she replied. "We try to have fun." She been employed at the store for three years, she said, and suggested that management must have a
hiring profile that targets upbeat workers. "Everybody's like this. There's no negativity," she said. "Of course, people are different. But we all try to stay positive."
Indeed, it doesn't just happen by accident. New employees reportedly receive more than of 260 hours of formal training during their first year, compared to an industry average of eight.
The Container Store has been on Fortune magazine's list of the "100 Best Companies To Work For" 11 years in a row. "One of our Foundation Principles™ is that one
great employee is equal to three good employees (in terms of business productivity), so why not hire only GREAT employees?" it says on its website.
Kip Tindell, the co-founder, chairman
and ceo of The Container Store, was an off-campus roommate of Whole Foods founder John Mackey at the University of Texas, Austin, in the Seventies, although they were not particularly close at the
time.
"Simultaneously, we hit upon the philosophy that I think will be the dominant philosophy in business in the 21st century," Mackey told Time magazine's Justin Fox
a few years ago. "It's this principle that the purpose of business is not primarily to maximize
shareholder value."
When Tindell expanded from Dallas to Houston back in the day, he was not happy with the results even though the store was doing triple the volume he had expected.
"It felt like somebody else's business," he tells Big Think. "We couldn't hire enough people, we didn't like the people we were
hiring."
At that point, he re-booted.
"Basically what we've done is we've agreed on a set of 'ends,' and we've liberated everyone in the company to choose
the means to those ends that they think is most appropriate, because life it too situational and retail is certainly too situational for anyone to think that they're smart enough to tell employees
how to behave in any given setting," he continues on Big Think.
My experience is that it's working. And although The Container Store is a private company, I've got to think that
shareholders think so, too. But if Tindell is to be believed, he's not going to be very happy about this story.
"I don't need to hear how great we are again; I want to know what
we're doing a thoroughly lousy job of," he says in a "Good
Morning America" piece, adding that some of its best-selling new items are suggested by employees and customers.
As of this weekend, I've got my thinking cap on.