I have a love-hate relationship with the Grateful Dead. Some love, after scores of concerts in the 1970s. Some hate, after too many versions of "Sugar Magnolia" and mainlining way too much talk from flower-child libertarians.

But you have to admire the Dead for their staying power, their loyal fans, their indie branding—and an Atlantic cover story by Joshua Green titled "Management Secrets of the Grateful Dead" got me thumbing right to it.

No, this has not become a bestselling business book yet—although it soon could be, Green notes wryly. His article's main focus is the Dead's donation of its huge archive of fan correspondence, recordings, press clips, stage sets, and more to the University of California at Santa Cruz. 

The archive is currently under protection in an anonymous warehouse, as "a precaution," Green writes, "against overzealous fans' plundering a hoard that many would regard as akin to Tutankhamen's treasure." But in March, the New York Historical Society will start exhibiting some of the golden loot. And U.C. Santa Cruz plans to build a new library to showcase the Dead Archive.

All of which will apparently make a growing cadre of Dead academics happy: ethnomusicologists, anthropologists, sociologists, cultural studies mavens.

Yet the "management secrets" extolled here are a disappointment and not particularly fresh, given two-decades-worth of New Age business engineering from the likes of Ben Cohen of Ben & Jerry's, Anita Roddick of The Body Shop, even the infamous John Mackey of Whole Foods.

"Oddly enough," Green writes, "the Dead's influence on the business world may turn out to be a significant part of its legacy."

I don't think this is odd at all. Hippies and Summer of Love rebels have always seemed like libertarians in the making to me—not all, obviously, but the late Jerry Rubin, author of DO IT!: Scenarios of the Revolution, was a stock broker by the early 1980s.

Then there are the publishers of management books, who have brought us such gems as Make It So: Leadership Lessons from Star Trek The Next Generation. It's clear to anyone who's familiar with this business self-help genre that management consultants will grasp at anything to make a buck. 

As Green quotes one business prof who hails the management acumen of the Dead—and who has coined the-oh-so-business-jargony "strategic improvisation" to characterize them—"[p]eople are just so tired of hearing about GE and Southwest Airlines."

No kidding. The thing is, baby boomers have been managers for quite awhile, so I'm not sure who's pinning the tail on what donkey.

Back in the early '90s, when I was an editor at a certain management magazine, the suits brought groovy types like Eric Utne to talk about creativity and regenerating yourself to improve our grumbling (crumbling?) morale. At one point, another consultant played shaman, cutting up bills with scissors in order to prove (I think) that money isn't everything.

Except that it is, if you want to keep an enterprise like the Grateful Dead afloat for decades. So what about the management secrets? Turns out they are the Dead's emphasis on customer loyalty, and their strategy of allowing fans to make bootleg concert tapes. By giving something away for free, they built the Dead brand and mythos, and got the fans paying for tickets and other goodies.

Yes, very savvy, very Deadish, and now very up-to-the-minute considering Chris Anderson's bestseller Free: The Future of a Radical Price.

But if Management Secrets of the Grateful Dead shows up on Amazon soon, I want more than a re-hash of Free or what John Perry Barlow said in 1994. Here are some tips for Dead Head managers I'd like to see, already framed as convenient "steps" or "action plans" for would-be writers:

Step 1: Play Endless Drum Solos

In a world of constant information acceleration, it's easy to keep customers in the dark. But the confusion makes them suspicious, too.

So try the Dead's improvisational-riff trick: Hook your fans with the equivalent of "Tennessee Jed," then start banging those drums when they're lulled and willing to follow. At that point, you can do a Mickey Hart, shaking exotic instruments like structured investment vehicles and credit default swaps.

Just keep drumming it in: "zero interest, no money down," "SIV," "ponzi scheme." It's soporific. Even for those who hate drum solos—think journalists—their attention will be distracted by other thoughts.

Step 2: Distribute Hashish to Your Customer Base

We all know about advertising "opium." So why not cut to the chase and give customers free samples of hash, packaged attractively with your company logo? This will loosen inhibitions and encourage that "buying on the periphery" that so many cutting-edge players are talking about.

Caution: LSD might be the drug of choice for true Dead Heads—and getting acid for free might increase the good buying vibes—but hallucinations are tricky. Tough to measure their impact on a spread sheet.

Step 3: Maximize Tribalism

Tribes are the market segments of the new millennium. Individual buying power rises exponentially in a collective space. A shared core set of beliefs like peace, love, lust can be plugged into the core values of any company.

Can't imagine re-branding Bank of America as a gathering place for ecstatic connection? Picture ATMs as mini-Dead concerts. "American Beauty" plays in the background, but think virally, too. Undercover performers hand out flowers and dance "spontaneously"—and gather everyone present into group hugs and joint-passing. You better believe action at the ATMs will spike.

 Step 4: Cultivate an "If You Got a Warrant, I Guess You're Gonna Come in" Attitude

It's time for CEOs to get their mojo back. No more guilty sob stories in front of judges and congressional panels. With "Truckin'," you can frame yourself as an everyman or everywoman outlaw, claiming some populist cred:

Sometimes the lights all shining on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it's occurred to me what a long, strange trip it's been.

Imagine how Andrew Fastow, former CFO at Enron, might have changed his play if he'd been humming that, letting loose a little bit of inner freak. As it stands, he's not set for release from jail until the end of 2011.

Step 5: Remember It's Only Rock 'n' Roll

This is the equivalent of KISS—Keep It Simple, Stupid—and despite all the improvising and fancy rhythm instruments, the music of the Dead is roots music. It's easy to riff on, helping to build a brand image that feels creative and always renewing, even when it's not.

It's hard to see Björk, for example, as a management guru. That's got about as much bounce as Management Secrets of Yoko Ono. The same could be said for the arty cool of David Bryne and Talking Heads—although as Gen X and Y managers climb the rungs, the approach may change.

By Dead Head management standards, one funk-rocker who should appeal to entrepreneurs of all stripes is George Clinton of Parliament Funkadelic. Management Secrets from the Mothership—talk about your "strategic improvisation." Talk about your guerilla marketing slogans—and one nation under a groove, dancing themselves into a collective reverie.

For that, I'd pay good money.