He knows every customer.
He can tell which machine has which problem just by the noise it makes.
He knows which supplier you can still call at four on a Friday. And which one you had better not try.
And, of course, that one spreadsheet nobody else understands.
He has been there for 30 years.
He might genuinely be the best employee in the business.
There is just one problem:
A rather large part of the business is also in his head.
On Monday, he retires.
That rarely comes as a surprise.
His date of birth was not a secret.
Yet the knowledge handover surprisingly often begins around the time somebody is deciding who will make the farewell speech.
“Franz will show you everything.”
Franz shows.
The other person takes notes.
And both of them know:
This is not everything.
It could not possibly be.
After 30 years, knowledge is not just knowledge.
It is experience. A feel for people. A sense that something is not quite right.
And much of it is so obvious to Franz that he no longer realises he knows it.
That is where it gets interesting.
Why are you calling that particular person?
Why are you checking this order again?
How do you already know that will not work?
And why is none of this written down?
Then come the best answers:
“We always do it that way.”
“You just know.”
“It is not written down.”
Right.
The most dangerous knowledge
is the knowledge nobody
knows is knowledge.
A simple test.
Which employee immediately makes you think:
If he is not here tomorrow,
we have a problem.
That is where I would start.
Not with a 180-page process manual.
With a few sensible questions:
What does only he know?
Which decisions does he make from experience?
Which exceptions does he know?
Which customers, suppliers and connections does he hold in his head?
And which of those does the business still need when he is not there?
We used to put it all in folders.
Interviews. Minutes. Process manuals.
In the end, there was a great deal of documented knowledge.
And sometimes a very nice folder nobody ever opened again.
We can do better now.
Conversations, documents, emails and existing knowledge can be brought together. Connections become visible. Knowledge becomes easier to find.
And, most importantly:
You can ask questions.
Not:
“Which folder is that in?”
But:
“What have we done in this situation before?”
That is quite a difference.
This is not about digitising Franz.
Quite the opposite.
It is about not letting 30 years of experience simply disappear.
Businesses invest heavily in machines, buildings, software and brands.
They are maintained. Insured. Protected.
And sometimes one of the most valuable things in the business simply walks out of the door on a Friday afternoon.
With a bouquet and a gift hamper.
Perhaps we should start a little earlier.
And sometimes, after 30 years, Franz just wants three weeks on holiday without anyone calling him.
That would make a change.
Your best employee can be irreplaceable.
As a person.
NOT AS A SYSTEM.