In July 2005, Mumbai was battered by unusually heavy monsoon rains. In just 12 hours, more
than 25 inches deluged India’s business capital. That, combined with record high tides, wreaked
widespread havoc, bringing the city to a virtual standstill. As the water rose waist-high in many
areas, people found themselves stranded at railway stations, in trains, and on roads and
sidewalks.
Among them were many of Mumbai’s dabbawalas, who deliver meals prepared in customers’
homes to their offices and then return the empty dabbas (metal lunchboxes) the same day.
Nevertheless, on the second day of the flooding, even before the city had limped back to life, the
dabbawalas were back on the job, wading through the water. They quickly became a symbol of
gritty resilience.
The 5,000 or so dabbawalas in the city have an astounding service record. Every working day
they transport more than 130,000 lunchboxes throughout Mumbai, the world’s fourth-most-
populous city. That entails conducting upwards of 260,000 transactions in six hours each day, six
days a week, 52 weeks a year (minus holidays), but mistakes are extremely rare. Amazingly, the
dabbawalas—semiliterate workers who largely manage themselves—have achieved that level of
performance at very low cost, in an ecofriendly way, without the use of any IT system or even
cell phones.
The dabbawala service is legendary for its reliability. Since it was founded, in 1890, it has
endured famines, wars, monsoons, Hindu-Muslim riots, and a series of terrorist attacks. It has
attracted worldwide attention and visits by Prince Charles, Richard Branson, and employees of
Federal Express, a company renowned for its own mastery of logistics.
How can a poorly educated, decentralized workforce perform so beautifully in an environment
that can charitably be described as unpredictable and challenging? The answers hold lessons not
only for companies seeking to expand in emerging markets but also for all developed-economy
enterprises whose ranks are dominated by unexceptional talent. Even firms that can afford to hire
stars typically depend on a cast of average people to support them. The dabbawalas’ success is
proof that with the right system in place, ordinary workers can achieve extraordinary results.
After hearing about the dabbawalas, I traveled to Mumbai to uncover what they might teach us
about managing a superior service organization. With the support of Harvard Business School’s
India Research Center (IRC), I reviewed the literature on the dabbawalas, interviewed workers
and supervisors in their organization, and accompanied them during a typical delivery day. I
analyzed their operation and its inner workings.
The dabbawalas have an overall system whose basic pillars—organization, management,
process, and culture—are perfectly aligned and mutually reinforcing. In the corporate world, it’s
uncommon for managers to strive for that kind of synergy. While most, if not all, pay attention to
some of the pillars, only a minority address all four. Culture, for example, often gets short shrift:
Too few managers seem to recognize that they should nurture their organizations as
communities—not just because they care about employees but because doing so will maximize
productivity and creativity and reduce risk. The takeaway: Managers shouldn’t think of
themselves merely as leaders or supervisors; they also need to be architects who design and fine-
tune systems that enable employees to perform at optimal levels.
To understand how to accomplish that, let’s explore the ways in which each of the dabbawalas’
pillars contributes to a system that is focused on achieving one simple goal: on-time delivery.
Organization: A Clockwork Design
A key to the dabbawalas’ operations is the Mumbai Suburban Railway, one of the most
extensive, complex, and heavily used urban commuter lines in the world. Its basic layout allows
delivery people with bicycles and handcarts to travel short distances between the stations and
customers’ homes and offices.
It is partly the railway system that creates demand in the first place. Crowded trains make
carrying dabbas difficult, and office workers don’t regularly eat out—because of the expense, a
preference for home-cooked food, and the poor quality of the few office cafeterias that exist. So
office employees have their lunches prepared at home and delivered by the dabbawalas after the
morning rush hour.
On any given day, a dabba changes hands several times. In the morning a worker picks it up
from the customer’s home and takes it (along with other dabbas) to the nearest train station,
where it is sorted and put onto a wooden crate according to its destination. It is then taken by
train to the station closest to its destination. There it is sorted again and assigned to another
