But what stood out was his reminder that “people want to play in the fun sandbox.” That sustainable solutions to business and our world should be joyful. Think of the innovation that’s going on in this space, he challenged us. The amazing technology. System-changing ideas. Massive shifts in the status quo. The wondrous problems about to be solved. The human spirit and joy behind it all.

If those interested in sustainable development focus on the doom-and-gloom, the catastrophic problems looming ahead, who will want to play with us?

An excellent thing to remember when managing a brand. Collaboration, partnerships, and action happen when it’s exciting to be a part of something. It’s something I learned a long time ago during college when I worked for an environmental group. People want to be a part of something that’s working, that they feel is making a difference, and is solving something as opposed to bringing attention to a problem.

Same in business and the brands and leadership tactics we use to mobilize people. And not just in the creative, messaging-driven myopia that we often associate with branding and leading. Think of the left side of the brain, too. What can be measured can be managed, obviously. But data and demonstrable results also demonstrate momentum. Momentum begets engagement. Engagement: collaboration, partnerships, change.

And if you don’t have the data right away to demonstrate forward movement, turn to the right brainers for help. If you don’t have data, you’ve got a story. Work on your story from the very beginning. And then when you do gather the data? Aw yeah.

There is no bottom line anymore. It zigs, zags, and blurs.

Can we agree that there’s a category of enterprises that needs more concise branding?

Call it social entrepreneurship, call it social impact, call it sustainable development. That yet-to-be defined category (even beyond L3C) of enterprises that care less about its status as Profit or Non-Profit and more about the contribution it makes to our world.

That category that will look to any model for an example of how to bring an idea to a group of people – preferably a very large group of people – and get them to act. Maybe buy it, maybe volunteer, maybe invest.

That category of enterprises that look to create change no matter what it takes. Interested in investor returns? Fine. I’ll figure out how to make you a profit. Care about the mission before the margin? Fine. I’ll demonstrate that too.

I’ve been thinking about this category as forward-thinking people (not faceless entities hidden behind the soon-to-be ersatz veil of corporation) making decisions and innovating free from the simplistic and myopic constraints of maximizing returns for shareholders. Rather: people who wish to engage shareholders who care about realizing a return, and don’t have a preconceived notion of what return means.

People driven by a higher calling of value. Value redefined.

Afoot in this unbranded world is a movement to measure. Because it seems that no matter how much good we want to do in our world there’s a truism that won’t go away:

What can be measured can be managed.

And I’ll take it a step further: What can be managed can be grown.

And now let’s agree that if you’re interested in increasing the amount of change you’ll bring to bear in our world, growth is no longer an evil thing.

In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

If you want some gold today, you don’t settle in a quaint mountain town in the Rockies filled with scrappy boot strappers singing Colorado My Home Sweet Home in hopes of discovering a nice little vein you can claim.

Too many people have done that already.

To get some gold today, you gotta find it and figure out how to do operations in the furthest flung corners of the earth. In the Andes on the Chilean-Argentinean border. In the Kyrgyz Republic just north of the China border. Or maybe North of Cajamarca, Peru.

You blast and scrape gaping pits out of the ground. It leaves a bit of a mark: If your pit is the largest, it’s square footage will be four times the size of Manhattan’s.

After clear cutting and scarring roads through the terrain to get them there, you use those truly uncanny haul trucks that you see in environmental scare documentaries to move the raw earth you dig up. The shoulder of a six-foot man comes to its wheel hub. Your mine pit miniaturizes them like a model scene on the set of a Terminator movie.

You chunk, grind and mash your raw earth into a fine mud using machinery of the kind that could fill an entire chapter in a Robert Kennedy Jr. book.

Then you dump a bunch of cyanide over the mud to get the gold out. And the used cyanide has to go somewhere. Preferably not in the clean water lake behind the dam you’ve created for your grinding and mashing and mud-making operations. So you build another dam and try to convince everyone that pouring cyanide and sulfur dioxide in there —open to the atmosphere—actually makes it inert. That it’ll be okay for generations that come after the mine closes*.

If your mine is really kickin’, you’ll get seven ounces of gold for around every 30 tons of earth you process. More than likely you’ll get one or two ounces. Maybe.

So what on earth was the Daniels College of Business thinking? A world-ranked business school that’s built a reputation on ethics is going to deliver a class that teaches sustainable development by working in partnership with Newmont Mining. Really.

Then again, like other b-schools it could have looked at Honda Hybrid market development. WalMart eco-friendly fleet renovations. Replacing standard light bulbs with fluorescents in Sears stores. Where’s the fun in that? Or, more to the point, where’s the learning in that?

This class will work hands-on and on location in the mud, dust, extravagance, and chemicals that is the gold mining business. With a company that’s had their share of troubles. Not the least of which includes a few employees actually jailed in Indonesia under charges of polluting an area bay.

So what will Newmont teach us? Should we even bother? Can gold mining even be green? I suppose this could all be a PR stunt on Newmont’s part. Maybe partnering in such ways with third party organizations will bring them good press (if I was their PR consultant, that’s exactly what I’d advise they do).

Agree with former CEO Wayne Murdy’s accolades? Think all that glitter is gilded? Think Newmont—and the gold industry in general—is the evil corporate empire writ large?

————
* (This is a communications issue, by the way. This is exactly how to make it inert. Get geeky about cyanide and check out this article.)

We have new relationships, and that changes things. Discussions have shifted from theories about relocation operations to relocating people. People we now know.

Their lives will be turned upside down if the mine opens. For good (residents have high hopes for jobs and some have even higher hopes for big returns on their land), for bad (students reported hearing from mothers that a mine will bring people from totally different cultures to their tight-knit towns), and indifferent (a cook in the Newmont encampment told me that she’d be OK with a mine opening because they’ll finally put a bus route through her town).

A student in a rare moment of doubt tells me “Hard to believe all this is for gold. I mean, its not like it’s a critical resource for human survival.” I immediately thought of gaudy jewelry. Glitter.

Before you posit that gold is a luxury not worthy of the impact it takes to produce it, consider gold’s many uses. And gold (and its value) lasts. It might very well be…well…sustainable.

As one expert puts it: “gold is also nearly indestructible; it does not disappear through corrosion as iron does, does not vanish into smoke in a fire, and is not dissolved or ruined by water, including salt water.”

And as a Newmont exec put it: “Gold is the only thing of value that, for the most part, is still around. Very little gold disappears.” It’s reused and recycled.

I also considered that my knee jerk reaction to gold was ethnocentric. Certainly for many peoples around the world, it’s as central to their culture as food. Marriage ceremonies. Religion.

Plenty of controversy surrounding gold. But one thing’s not controversial: it sure ain’t going anywhere.

Seems to me the real question is, how will we decide to go about getting it?

The task is ungraspable. Items on an endless to-do list: Energy needs. Relocating multiple villages, maybe 10,000 people. Roads and access concerns. NGO buy-in. Still not sure if local Chiefs will give their approval (despite not having de facto governance, politicians and enterprises must have their buy-in). Locations of sustainable farm training facilities. Evaluation of available and competent labor. Evaluation of available and competent ex-pat labor.

Oh — and is there enough gold in the ore samples to be profitable.

What also struck me was the water needs. One Newmont engineer told me he’s struggling with a solution to re-routing rivers and streams for the water supply. You need a lot of water to mine gold. A fresh and plentiful water supply for two lakes: a clean one for the water needs of the processing operations, and another to mix with the used cyanide and sulfur dioxide in the destruction process.

It was time for a beer in Newmont’s temporary encampment. A small little oasis, oddly. Reliable electricity, running water. Air conditioning. A small bar. A far cry from the mud huts and lean-to shanties we toured all day. If this is what Newmont can build temporarily, their fully operational mine must be a wonder. (We’ll see that next week.)

The beer was good. Scott McLagan, the lead professor and the Director of the executive programs at Daniels, had just debriefed the student teams. They were wandering a bit—trying to find focus for their projects. A balance of academic requirements and delivering something of value for Newmont. Measuring sustainable development efforts and the development of a Ghanaian foundation.

Not exactly a multiple choice exam.

“There’s no book for this stuff,” Scott told me. “Newmont is doing completely new things in Africa. Sustainability on this scale, and this integrated, is totally new.”

The African earth isn’t the only ground Newmont’s breaking. They’re working with a model of sustainability similar to what Daniels teaches. A nice alignment with the Newmont approach of juggling multiple systems. But charts and theories are eaten alive by the doing.

“Learning happens at the extremes,” Scott continued. “Think about it: Newmont’s business model is as complex and capital intensive as they come. Most of their workforce is overseas in multiple and remote locations. They arrive in the sticks of Ghana like an alien race. They promise new wealth creation, but a huge environmental impact.

“And they’ll have to move people who have lived here for generations. How do you value sustenance farming land? By the market value? That’d be next to nothing. And what happens when a financial wind fall comes to someone who’s never known financial management?”

I point out that that doesn’t even touch the environmental stuff. Like diverting streams.

“Or government stuff,” he says, practically brushing off green as if it’s the easiest part. “Newmont wants to be invited back. Where do they draw the line between good citizenship—building a public bathroom or a school is a rounding error in their corporate budget. But is that their job? Their duty to the shareholders?”

I look over my beer and around the bar. No students. They’re at work in their teams to tackle just these issues. Trying to find focus to their deliverables.

It’s very real to them. They’re on a deadline. A bit extreme.

Today we visited the Elima Slave castle. Stood in the dungeons. Walked through the gate that led to the ships. This place was only the beginning of the atrocities. It’s futile to describe the emotions. Multilayered, complex, sickening.

A thought struck me on the bus back to the hotel. It isn’t exaggerating to suggest that we find ourselves facing a new world. A world with unexampled challenges, a totally opaque future. But with the same undying hope that we just can’t seem to shake.

As an agent of defining this new world, capitalism is facing the same question that faced settlers of that other new world that was built on the backs of exploited people.

Today, we ask ourselves to learn. We ask ourselves, “now that we can do anything, how will we choose to do it?”

When you’re anxious to go on a tour of an African mine site, sitting in a florescent lit room listening to presentations makes you a little jumpy and inattentive. Even so, when Jay Bastian started talking about the mowing operations at his mine, my ears perked up.

In a way, Randy Barnes and Jay Bastian’s relationship is a micro-reflection of Newmont Mining. Randy is the External Affairs Manager at Ahafo. Jay Bastian is the General Manager. Randy, citizenship and social affairs. Jay, operations. Randy, keep the peace. Jay, make the profits.

A few years ago, former Newmont CEO Wayne Murdy approached Scott McLagan — lead professor on this trip and director of Daniels’ executive programs — to help him change the culture at Newmont.

“We’re really good at operations,” Scott will tell you Wayne said. “We know what we’re doing behind the fence line. But I need our people to be spending more than half their time thinking outside the fence line.”

Academics call this focusing on your social license to operate. Newmont calls it profitability.

Newmont engaged Daniels to deliver custom corporate programs on team building, ethics, and sustainability. Multi-week programs, delivered multiple times over the course of several years for all management-level employees flown to Denver from around the world.

Daniels will have you believe that these programs contributed to Newmont’s cultural turnaround. A turnaround that resulted in Newmont’s media placements moving from arrests and water contamination in Indonesia to being placed on the Dow Jones Sustainability Index (the first and only mining company with such a listing).

As they say in PR, that’s much better ink.

It’s a turnaround that began by placing Newmont’s Environmental and Social Responsibility managers at the decision making table with operations. They’d have to work hard to align values. A risky proposition for a company (in an industry) that’s always been all about operations.

Jump back to Ahafo. Jay tells our group that it would easier and cheaper to not hire so many people at the Ahafo mine. They employ less people, he said, for much larger operations and more production at their Nevada, U.S. site.

“I could do mowing operations cheaper, faster, and at a higher quality with a tractor than I could hiring a dozen guys with machetes.”

Randy interrupts to remind us that it’s a payoff against being a good corporate citizen. A valued member of the community.

Jay looks at Randy as if to say “That’s nice. Can we get back to operations?”

I wonder how many Newmont shareholders, way back in the comfy environs of the west, have had the same sentiment.