The Devil and the RFP
by Dan Borgen and Mike Silverman

I worked through the night to hit tomorrow's deadline on a high-profile request for proposals (RFP). I was physically and mentally exhausted -- on the verge of sleep -- when a slick looking guy sporting a red felt fedora and a dark black goatee suddenly appeared in my office.

"Good day," he intoned. "I represent the Human Efficiency Leadership Liaison consulting group."

He offered me his card. Upon inspection it confirmed that he was, indeed, a consultant from HELL.

"I have come to help you improve upon your recent RFP efforts," he continued. "I have been informed that several key areas would benefit from my organization's assistance."

I rubbed my eyes and sipped some forgotten coffee, cold in its cup. "Such as?" I offered.

"Obfuscation, of course!" he replied. "Define scope hazily. Let the vendors bid however they see fit. That way you'll end up with nothing near what you actually require. Plus, users and technical staff will become frustrated, angry, depressed, and unproductive. Do you mind if I smoke?"

Just as I started to protest, an effluvium of magenta smoke oozed from his red felt fedora and filled my office in its mist. I wasn't sure I could believe my senses.

His voice rose in agitation as he continued. "Next, we need to discuss evaluation criteria -- another point that has clearly eluded you. You assembled a proposal evaluation team, comprised of representatives from key business units, working together toward a common goal based on a set of clearly defined criteria. Wrong, wrong, WRONG!"

I eloquently retorted, "Huh?"

"You see, if you were better versed in our firm's comprehensive CHAOS™ lifecycle methodology you would know that we recommend precisely the opposite tack. Our proven approach practically guarantees in-fighting among your proposal selection committee ...not to mention vendor protests. If you're lucky, you have a good chance of ending up with a vendor who is entirely wrong for the job. Even better, your whole organization could become hopelessly paralyzed and dysfunctional -- unable to select any vendor at all."

Just then, as he adjusted his fedora, I could have sworn I saw the root of a shiny red horn.

"Now, let's talk about defining a common format for proposal responses. Get real! You've forced the vendors to propose in a way that will allow comparisons on an "apples-to-apples" basis. These techniques you employ -- like forcing adherence to a pre-defined table of contents, keeping resumes down to a three page minimum, requiring references for every qualification listed -- have significant repercussions. They limit proposal size, expedite the evaluation process, and substantially reduce your chances for receiving endless pages of self-serving manure. Do you know what this MEANS?"

"Um..."

"It means," he interrupted, "that you have obliterated your opportunity for fruit-salad comparisons! By contrast, less precision in your requirements for vendor responses would really open things up for tree-killer vendor responses and give the truly mediocre a fighting chance."

"Oh."

As he uncrossed his legs I noticed a long bulge headed down the left leg of his trousers. Startled, I realized it was a tail that he was hiding.

"Finally," he lectured with increasing passion, "you've got the contract procurement requirements all wrong. Look at this: you've clearly delineated the rights and responsibilities of both parties and incorporated the winning proposal as an appendix to your standard contract. You FOOL! How is the vendor going to be able to control scope, charge you for unnecessary add-ons, and provide incompetent personnel through bait and switch tactics?"

"I thought...."

"YOU THINK TOO MUCH!" he screamed. "You and your kind make me furious!"

Perhaps it was anger that turned his skin to a burning shade of red. "You have much to learn," he cautioned as he burst into flames. "But, I must go now. I'm off to a convention of the American Bar Association. I love that crowd."

With that, he disappeared in a swirl of acrid smoke.

I felt someone nudging my shoulder as a familiar voice said, "Hey, wake up! You dreaming or something?"

Groggy, I raised my head from my desk and said, "I guess so. Sheesh! What a dream I had!"

"That so?" my colleague replied. "Well, I guess we better review that RFP one more time before it goes out. But first, let's open the window. It seems smoky in here."

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