Sam Walton: Made In America

by Sam Walton

If I’m going to fly around all over the country telling these folks they’re my partners, I sure owe it to them to at least hear them out when they’re upset about something.

Roy was probably the most overrated bird dog in history. He wasn’t much of a hunter at all; he would point rabbits, for example. But the associates and the customers got a kick out of visiting with him in the stores, and once we put his name and picture on our private label dog food, it sold tons. Another thing about Roy that was very unusual: he was a great tennis dog. He would go with me to the tennis court and lay there, and whenever the ball went out of the court, over the fence, or whatever, he would go chasing after it and bring it back to me.

So for the first time since I had begun retailing in 1945, I was beginning to back off from the business. I was getting slightly less involved in the day-to-day decisions and leaning a bit more on Ron Mayer and Ferold Arend—our two executive vice presidents. I was still chairman and CEO. Ferold, at age forty-five, ran merchandising, while Ron Mayer, who was only forty, ran finance and distribution. To handle the explosive growth, we were bringing on new people in the general office. Ron brought in a lot of people to handle data processing and finance and distribution. What happened then is the one period in Wal-Mart’s history that I am still the least comfortable talking about today.

As I look back on that period now, I realize I had split the company in half, setting up two factions which began to compete fiercely with one another. There was the old guard, including many of the store managers, remaining loyal to Ferold, and the new guard, many of whom owed their jobs to Ron. Pretty soon, everybody began to take sides, lining up behind either Ron or Ferold, who didn’t get along at all.

Then I said to myself, “Well, I’m getting pretty old, and we could probably work together. I’ll let him be chairman and CEO, and I’ll just enjoy myself, step back a little, and, of course, continue to visit stores.” So I became chairman of the Executive Committee. Ron became chairman and CEO of the company. Ferold became president.

Meanwhile, the house was dividing up against itself. A lot of the newer, younger guys were lining up on Ron’s side, and the older bunch who ran the stores were backing Ferold.

So finally I called him in one Saturday in June of 1976, thirty months after I had given up the chairman’s job, and just said simply, “Well, Ron, I thought I was ready to step out, but I see that really I wasn’t. I’ve been so involved that in a way it has put you under a real handicap.” I told him I wanted to come back in as chairman and CEO, and have him assume another job—vice chairman and chief financial officer, I believe.

As disappointed and unhappy as he was, Ron said, “Sam, I know you’re going to think that things are falling apart, and a lot of other people are going to think they’re falling apart, but you’ve got such a strong field organization here, and such loyalty from the associates and the managers in those stores out there, and such loyal customers, and the company is so sound in its operating philosophies, that I think you’ll just move right down the road.” I appreciated his expressing that confidence in us. I know he meant it, and I’ll never forget it.

What followed became known as “the exodus.” First, a whole group of senior managers who had been part of Ron’s team—our financial officer, our data processing manager, the guy who was running our distribution centers—all walked out behind him. You can imagine how Wall Street felt about that.

I hate to see rivalry develop within our company when it becomes a personal thing and our folks aren’t working together and supporting one another. Philosophically, we have always said, Submerge your own ambitions and help whoever you can in the company. Work together as a team.

i personally learned this the hard way

have another cheer I lead whenever I visit a store: our own Wal-Mart cheer. The associates did it for President and Mrs. Bush when they were here in Bentonville not long ago, and you could see by the look on their faces that they weren’t used to this kind of enthusiasm. For those of you who don’t know, it goes like this: Give Me a W! Give Me an A! Give Me an L! Give Me a Squiggly! (Here, everybody sort of does the twist.) Give Me an M! Give Me an A! Give Me an R! Give Me a T! What’s that spell? Wal-Mart! What’s that spell? Wal-Mart! Who’s number one? THE CUSTOMER! I know most companies don’t have cheers, and most board chairmen probably wouldn’t lead them even if they did.

At Wal-Mart, if you have some important business problem on your mind, you should be bringing it out in the open at a Friday morning session called the merchandising meeting or at the Saturday morning meeting, so we can all try to solve it together. But while we’re doing all this work, we like to have a good time. It’s sort of a “whistle while you work” philosophy,

don’t think that big mansions and flashy cars are what the Wal-Mart culture is supposed to be about. It’s great to have the money to fall back on, and I’m glad some of these folks have been able to take off and go fishing at a fairly early age. That’s fine with me. But if you get too caught up in that good life, it’s probably time to move on, simply because you lose touch with what your mind is supposed to be concentrating on: serving the customer.

But I’m going to say it again anyway: the secret of successful retailing is to give your customers what they want. And really, if you think about it from your point of view as a customer, you want everything: a wide assortment of good quality merchandise; the lowest possible prices; guaranteed satisfaction with what you buy; friendly, knowledgeable service; convenient hours; free parking; a pleasant shopping experience.

Of all the notions I’ve heard about Wal-Mart, none has ever baffled me more than this idea that we are somehow the enemy of small-town America. Nothing could be further from the truth: Wal-Mart has actually kept quite a number of small towns from becoming practically extinct by offering low prices and saving literally billions of dollars for the people who live there, as well as by creating hundreds of thousands of jobs in our stores.

I was impressed with the giant Carrefours stores in Brazil, which got me started on a campaign to bring home a concept called Hypermart—giant stores with groceries and general merchandise under one roof.

If we ever get carried away with how important we are because we’re a great big $50 billion chain—instead of one store in Blytheville, Arkansas, or McComb, Mississippi, or Oak Ridge, Tennessee—then you probably can close the book on us. If we ever forget that looking a customer in the eye, and greeting him or her, and asking politely if we can be of help is just as important in every Wal-Mart today as it was in that little Ben Franklin in Newport, then we just ought to go into a different business because we’ll never survive in this one.

Staying humble

If you had to boil down the Wal-Mart system to one single idea, it would probably be communication, because it is one of the real keys to our success. We do it in so many ways, from the Saturday morning meeting to the very simple phone call, to our satellite system. The necessity for good communication in a big company like this is so vital it can’t be overstated. What good is figuring out a better way to sell beach towels if you aren’t going to tell everybody in your company about it?

talking to everyone involved first

For example, we’ve got this one rule I hope we never give up enforcing: our buyers here in Bentonville are required to return calls from the stores first, before they return the calls of vendors or anybody else, and they are required to get back to the stores by sundown of the day they get the call.

Then I got to the point: “I don’t think any other retail company in the world could do what I’m going to propose to you. It’s simple. It won’t cost us anything. And I believe it would just work magic, absolute magic on our customers, and our sales would escalate, and I think we’d just shoot past our Kmart friends in a year or two and probably Sears as well. I want you to take a pledge with me. I want you to promise that whenever you come within ten feet of a customer, you will look him in the eye, greet him, and ask him if you can help him. Now I know some of you are just naturally shy, and maybe don’t want to bother folks. But if you’ll go along with me on this, it would, I’m sure, help you become a leader. It would help your personality develop, you would become more outgoing, and in time you might become manager of that store, you might become a department manager, you might become a district manager, or whatever you choose to be in the company. It will do wonders for you. I guarantee it. Now, I want you to raise your right hand—and remember what we say at Wal-Mart, that a promise we make is a promise we keep—and I want you to repeat after me: From this day forward, I solemnly promise and declare that every time a customer comes within ten feet of me, I will smile, look him in the eye, and greet him. So help me Sam.”

an idea he had one Christmas

My favorite buyer program is one called Eat What You Cook. Once a quarter, every buyer has to go out to a different store and act as manager for a couple of days in the department he or she buys merchandise for. I guarantee you that after they’ve eaten what they cooked enough times, these buyers don’t load up too many Moon Pies to send to Wisconsin, or beach towels for Hiawatha, Kansas.

Our latest effort is a program called Yes We Can, Sam!—which, by the way, I did not name. Again, we invite hourly associates who have come up with money-saving ideas to attend our Saturday morning meeting. So far, we figure we’ve saved about $8 million a year off these ideas. And most of them are just common-sense kinds of things that nobody picks up on when we’re all thinking about how big we are. They’re the kinds of things that come from thinking small. One of my favorites came from an hourly associate in our traffic department who got to wondering why we were shipping all the fixtures we bought for our warehouses by common carrier when we own the largest private fleet of trucks in America.

In those days, I tried to operate on a 2 percent general office expense structure. In other words, 2 percent of sales should have been enough to carry our buying office, our general office expense, my salary, Bud’s salary—and after we started adding district managers or any other officers—their salaries too. Believe it or not, we haven’t changed that basic formula from five stores to two thousand stores.

If you’re not serving the customer, or supporting the folks who do, we don’t need you. When we’re thinking small, that’s another thing we’re always on the lookout for: big egos. You don’t have to have a small ego to work here, but you’d better know how to make it look small, or you might wind up in trouble.

good idea

The thing is, I am absolutely convinced that the only way we can improve one another’s quality of life, which is something very real to those of us who grew up in the Depression, is through what we call free enterprise—practiced correctly and morally.

You start with a given: free enterprise is the engine of our society; communism is pretty much down the drain and proven so; and there doesn’t appear to be anything else that can compare to a free society based on a market economy.

In the global economy, successful business is going to do just what Wal-Mart is always trying to do: give more and more responsibility for making decisions to the people who are actually on the firing line, those who deal with the customers every day.

But if American management is going to say to their workers that we’re all in this together, they’re going to have to stop this foolishness of paying themselves $3 million and $4 million bonuses every year and riding around everywhere in limos and corporate jets like they’re so much better than everybody else.

Democrats and RINOs included