When the oil crisis struck in 1973, most companies were caught flat-footed. Shell wasn’t. They’d already spent two years thinking through how they’d need to adapt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Why? Because back in 1971, two senior Shell managers dared to ask a simple question: what would happen if oil prices swung dramatically?*<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The scenarios they built weren’t great forecasts. Their price estimates were set far too low. But it didn’t matter \u2014 and that’s the whole point. Whether oil tripled or quadrupled, the consequences rhymed: a wobbling economy, social tension and fuel theft, shifting mobility paradigms (remember car-free Sundays?), a push toward diversified supply chains, and new pricing policies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Shell had already reasoned through those consequences. So when the shock came, they weren’t panicking, but rather already in the execution mode.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thinking in scenarios is far more than playing out the single most likely outcome. It means:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That last point is the hard one. Asking “What if a pandemic shuts down the country?”, “What if kerosene is no longer available?”, or “What if the Rhine becomes unnavigable?” isn’t always welcome. It requires leaders willing to engage seriously with divergent futures \u2014 and, in doing so, to admit they don’t have 100% certainty about the years ahead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That admission is uncomfortable. It’s also exactly what let Shell move while everyone else was still reacting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n