Bigger, Better, Faster

On a crisp February day in downtown Houston, I had an encounter with a giant dancing chicken. It was 6:30 in the morning, and I had just made my way into the Houston Convention Center to deliver a presentation to Sam's Club and Wal-Mart. The cavernous room was nothing more than a giant indoor stadium -- you could easily have parked two or three 747 jets inside the arena. From my vantage point backstage, I saw 3,000 color-coded store managers: a blue group, a red group, and a green group, each representing a geographic region. All of these people were ringing cowbells, clapping, and cheering.

"We'd better talk about anything we need to now," said Kathleen, the wonderful person responsible for shepherding me around. "It's going to get pretty rowdy in a few minutes, and you won't be able to yell over the noise." That's when I noticed the giant chicken over in the corner, practicing its dance steps and warming up. Not far away, a rather grungy-looking rock band was setting up shop. They looked as though they had come straight from last night's gig.

"Do you want to go over your PowerPoint slides now?" the AV guy asked me. I looked out at the 3,000 color-coded store managers, glanced over at the dancing chicken, and sized up the rock band. "No, let's skip the graphics," I yelled over the noise. It didn't seem like a PowerPoint moment.

Then, at 6:45, the rock band hit the floor -- bang! -- and the place went nuts. Thousands of cowbells clanged. The band's lead singer, unshaven, wearing sunglasses and a Jaggeresque black-and-silver jumpsuit, ran around in the crowd while his buddies blasted out chords on fully cranked guitars. (Their amps went to 11.) Out came the dancing chicken, huge and proud, swinging its tail to the greater glory of discount stores. Two, three, four songs went by -- each louder than the last -- and it all culminated in the Wal-Mart rock song.

At precisely 7:00, the band stopped, and the chicken waddled off backstage (or wherever it is that giant chickens go when they're not dancing in front of 3,000 blue, red, and green store managers). Up on stage jumped three Sam's Club executives to lead a rousing rendition of the Sam's Club cheer.

"Give me an S."
"S!"
"Give me an A."
"A!" . . . building up to a crescendo of ringing cowbells, stomping feet, and a cheering crowd.

I felt completely intimidated. How was I supposed to deliver a serious message about enduring great companies in the wake of a giant dancing chicken at 7 o'clock in the morning? But to my amazement, when it was my turn to speak and I raised the serious question of what it would take for them to build an even better company, the whole room became surprisingly attentive.

Here is what I learned from that experience: It is entirely possible for a company to grow to 1.4 million people and retain much of the vibrant culture and sense of purpose created by its entrepreneurial founder. I must admit, I hadn't thought that that was possible. By the time most companies reach $10 billion or $20 billion in revenue, they have long ago lost the entrepreneurial zeal that fueled them in the first place. By $50 billion, they have gone fully corporate, and their very success has made them complacent, dull, and slow. The usual story is that what was once a fast company -- in its attitude, its values, its spirit, and its execution -- eventually succumbs to inertia and spirals into a doom loop of mediocrity.

Yet if anything, Wal-Mart is gaining momentum. This fast company is becoming a faster company. Wal-Mart grows a Fortune 100 corporation each year. The company's culture is as strong as ever. And Wal-Mart has yet to reach the larger world outside of the United States. Here is the most startling fact of all: If Wal-Mart were to maintain its average growth rate from the past 10 years, it would become the world's first $1 trillion company within a decade.

Will Wal-Mart really become the first $1 trillion company? The odds are certainly against it. It would mean being a single corporation with more than 5 million employees -- nearly half the total number of men and women in the U.S. Armed Forces during World War II and more people than are currently employed by the U.S. federal government. It would mean having annual revenues that are roughly on scale with the GDP of the UK; substantially in excess of the GDP of such countries as Australia, Canada, and Spain; nearly 10% of the entire U.S. economy; and equal to the government budgets of all 50 U.S. states combined. I remain skeptical about whether any company -- including Wal-Mart -- can reach this size without being crushed under its own weight.