by Sean Sherwood – I watched Gallipoli the other night, a great old war movie plucked from my dad’s collection (trailer above). Those who’ve seen it know the film’s most famous line – “What are your legs? Steel Springs!” – and those who haven’t would be bored by a description. I mention it because I couldn’t help but think about the current state of our restaurant industry when I heard it…

World War I lessons in highschool was where most of us learned the word “attrition”. Battle lines stretching across Europe would become the last remembrance of “red rover” style warfare, and would only tremor with the passing of thousands of lives. Looking back at the pictures or watching old movies, we can’t help but sip our lattes incredulously and ask ourselves “how did they go on?”

But they did. They trudged on. Some gloriously so: the fire, the vigour and the rakish grins leaving a wake as they took on forgotten locations, previous failures and up and coming destinations. Some are oblivious, as they climb out of the trench, bayonette firmly attached, screaming a war cry and clutching a crumpled picture of their high school sweetheart. The swell of pride, the fraternity of your mates and the adrenaline that comes with being so afraid and so determined all at once…it’s a heady cocktail, and it goes down quick.

Others have a plan, they’ve seen the fight, watched a good man die in their arms and have a family that needs them to come home in one piece. They’re watching, learning, picking the spots and keeping the team tight around them. They know the war won’t end because they killed one enemy soldier, or captured one enemy trench. They also know that there aren’t any acceptable losses anymore. It’s time to fight smart.

The casualties are piling up, and while some just represent the thinning of the herd, there are some that died too young, too bright and too full of promise. Losing the critically acclaimed Aurora Bistro was a kick in the junk for this city. It could have served as a wake up call, but the hits have kept coming. Parkside opted to dodge the bullet with a quick re-brand as L’Altro Buca (the success of which has confirmed Andrey and Chris’ craftiness), and Gastropod followed with it’s own re-brand to Maenam (which appears to be doing equally well). Deuce has recently gone up for sale, and a recent shuffle at Mon Bella has me expecting it to follow suit shortly. While providing an endless amount of entertainment on the blogosphere, Plan B in Yaletown selling to Shakin’-not-Stirred was still a loss of a great room and an excellent location.

The sense that each new soldier who goes over that wall is destined for a dirtnap is starting to fill my mind. I can’t shake it, and it’s almost getting so bad that I can’t watch it anymore. What do they need to learn? How can they make it in this economy?

As a consultant to a lot of independents, and a barstool therapist at many others, I’ve seen the harbingers of success and spied the red warning flags of impending collapse, and they’re all easy to avoid. I even wish I’d had this list when I was starting my own ventures, although like all good advice it is often unsolicited, and unappreciated.

First off, build your team. Your team needs to be vested. It must have something at stake, and it must have very similar goals to your own. If your team is full of stars, you better have excellent communication and clear roles. If you have a minor issue with your partners to begin with even when it’s all optimism and roses, you’ll be devastated to see what happens when it’s not.

Have an agreement. Partnership agreements are like pre-nups, and with a survival rate of restaurants being lower than the divorce rate, it’s hopelessly naïve to think you won’t need it cause you’re all such good mates. Imagine that you’re breaking up with your worst ex and structure a deal that ensures a fair dispersal and exit plan. If it turns out your partner is a philandering coke addict or all of a sudden goes vegan, at least you’ll have a structure to sort out your issues.

Write a business plan. No, not the hokey business plan that you cut and pasted together from the ones you got off the internet. Do one from scratch, with all the partners contributing, so that everyone is clear on the goals and direction, and with clearly laid out plans for achieving them. This is where the fighting is supposed to start and finish. Most failed businesses either didn’t have a plan or had a bad one. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had a client tell me the plan was (and why do they all point at their head?) all right there. Usually a couple of quick, pointed questions uncovers all of the little things that they hadn’t quite “nailed down yet”. As a pro golfer told me once: “The time for working stuff out is at the driving range. Once you’re on the course, every shot counts”.

Have a budget. Again, most people hack away at this because they don’t like to do it. If you don’t have a budget, I guarantee you will spend 50% more than you thought you would. You also need an operational budget, with a break even point clearly calculated and contingencies for repairs, maintenance and unforeseen screw-ups (of which there will be several). On top of that, have 50% more money than you think you’ll need. Under-capitalization kills most businesses in their first year of operations.

Be a professional. We all think we’re a professional, but the restaurant trade is famous for the kind of spazz behaviour that would make Donald Trump look like the Fonz. Your staff don’t interpret that as passion. They interpret it as a lack of control, and they’ll typically be scanning craigslist later on that night.

Be clear. Clarity of concept, direction, and market translates not only to your guests, but also to your staff, who will work their hardest and feel the most successful if you give them the opportunity. Too many times I’ve seen, heard, and read that “our service will be the best in the city” or “our food quality will stand out” as the defining elements of the principal’s vision. Be the best at something, and define it for the marketplace. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s difficult, but this is the flag your staff will salute, and your flag will stand for something that your guests can define.

Be Happy. Notice how I didn’t preface that with “don’t worry”? You decided to do this because it makes you happy. It fulfills you and it’s a noble purpose. If that stops, you need to find out why. If doing your own paperwork makes you want to stab yourself in the eye, delegate it and eat the added cost. You doing what makes you great in this business will more than pay for it. Your staff will thank you, and your peace of mind will allow you to focus on the relevant challenges your business is facing.

Remember that above all, you were meant to do this and you’re probably quite good at it. Find your joys and serve your guests. They are why we do this and why we enjoy it so much. It’s a rough and nasty business, and the good guys don’t necessarily win. I’m sure many more of you will go over that wall, and many more of you should, but take a good look at that picture in your hand before you go, and remember that they need you to come home.