The Asshole Survival Guide: My Latest Book
7 years ago
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Presentation available on creating a competitive and sustainable marketing strategy.
The Presentation
Jeff Snowden presents concepts in his new book The Promise and The Trust in a 60-minute presentation full of stories and examples. The presentation is valuable to general, marketing and brand managers and those that advise on brand marketing activities.
Background
After working in Atlanta with STB Media Group, ASI worldwide, Lazzari and Tillman Allen Greer, Jeff Snowden co-founded Snowden Tatarski in 2000. Since that time he has consulted businesses of all sizes on brand strategy, marketing and advertising.
Snowden has taught workshops, been a featured speaker and authored discussion papers on marketing, branding and advertising. He authored the marketing strategy book, Gin, Incense and Deacon Blues and has contributed to Kleepner’s advertising procedure, a popular college advertising textbook. Jeff is also a former commercial photographer and has two books of his photography published. He resides in Athens, Georgia with his wife Maura, a social worker, where the couple gardens compulsively and pretends they are still in college.
A brief of the presentation
In the beginning, there were ideas. Those ideas turned into businesses. One person milled grain. Another made cheese. And another shaped metal. And then, in time the crafts began to specialize. The blacksmith profession split and some blacksmiths specialized in horseshoes and other specialized in making things like swords.
Businesses were built with refined purposes. For many, the business was driven by passion. The craftsmen and smiths took pride in their work and the reputations they had made for selling quality goods. Bigger businesses were formed to serve bigger needs.
Even today, we tell the story of great and passionate entrepreneurs whose drive and purpose guide companies to greatness. We wax of their focus and vision. We tell of their passion for their employees and customers. We pry through their histories hoping to reveal that magic blueprint for unbridled success.
But then something happened. Businesses began to separate from those focused purposes. Instead of intensely living out a passion or purpose, companies tried to manufacture the appearance of purpose. Companies separated from being focused on products, customers and experiences and became more focused on the mirage of celebrity executives, Wall Street roller coaster rides and disconnected branding veneer meant to hide aimless, purposeless and insatiable companies.
Mission statements went from being aspirations to a bunch of corporate puffery. Organizations no longer had concrete reasons for being other than creating the perception of making money. Brands became synonyms for the orchestrated trickery meant to persuade consumers that our products, services and companies are really something more than they really are.
At the same time and possibly instigated by the beckoning complexity of the finance and IT portions of business, marketing departments began to intoxicate themselves with all manner of potions and elixir cure-alls. Psychographic segmentation, media mix modeling, buzz worthiness, executive blogs and a whole host of other marketing malarkey helped sooth otherwise aimless and fruitless efforts by allowing everyone to look really busy.
In truth, there are only two works that matter in marketing: Promise and Trust. Your company has something distinct and differentiating about it, otherwise it would not exist. It is a promise to consumers. Understanding that promise is crucial to the point that you should remove everything that is in the way of carrying out that promise and accentuate the things that are helping. This means products, systems, people and processes.
A whole lot of successful companies do this without even knowing it. The reason why they do is because they start with a focused purpose and keep it potent. They manage the interaction with the customers and keep a level of attentiveness and transparency that consumer’s feel they can support. In short, these companies prove to customers that every dollar spent on the company’s products will result in the benefits promised and expected, be they functional, emotional or experiential.
Consumers want to know their investment of time; energy and any other resources will have the intended result. They want and need to know that what you are offering is not fully duplicated elsewhere for less money, will be worth their investment and will deliver the desired result. This is where trust comes in. People want to know they are making a wise choice with their resources. All the little procedures we do under the marketing umbrella are (or at least should be) aimed at increasing the trust that customer resources are well placed.
The goal of marketing is to build trust in the promise of the offering. It is that simple. No amount of marketing tactics will ever overcome the need of companies to make a compelling promise that they can deliver and then help consumers believe that promise. Consumers have always been and continue to be interested in getting the desired result for their investment. Offerings that clearly offer and pitch such will be successful.
It all comes down to The Promise and The Trust.
What people are saying about the book.
Consumers yearn for authentic brands, services and products that deliver on their value promises from companies that can be trusted and are transparent to their customers. Jeff Snowden revisits the business of branding, boiling it down, like good southern home cooking, to a simple yet filling portion of Promise and Trust. His exposition is clear, concise, and chocked full of stories, metaphors, and real life narratives. He gives branding new life.
Thomas Leigh, Professor
Tanner Chair of Sales Management
Department of Marketing and Distribution
Terry College of Business
University of Georgia
Oh, does this subject and book hit a sweet spot in my business soul!
I have had the wonderful opportunity of introducing new products to the consumer world, and am presently doing that very thing. At the age of 66 the fires still burn, as does the passion of introductions. Jeff’s book hits on so many of our companies Core Values, with the heart of those values being the promise and the trust. This is a great insight to consumer products and their development, growth, success or failure. Jeff Snowden has such a unique way of business writing that provides common sense and down-home humor while being encouraging, but reminding us to never take ourselves to darn serious.
Tom Nall
Founder and Chief Executive Officer
Republic Tequila
Once again Jeff Snowden turns his bemused eye on the over-hyped and under-delivered world of current brand marketing and, in plain, compelling language champions the fundamentals that once drove great products and companies. His latest book is a simple plea for the enduring value of common sense and honest commitment in marketing... shared through a wry perspective that gently skewers the foibles and fantasies of so many “how-to” business tomes. Enjoy the read— you might even learn something!
Hayes Roth,
Chief Marketing Officer
Landor Associates
“Promise and trust are critical elements in differentiating your product in a land of killer competition. Without it you stand a chance of not surviving. A must read.”
Jack Trout
Author of Positioning and Differentiate or Die
Sunday, September 20, 2009
No amount of tweeting can save you now.
It’s feels like déjà vu all over again. I remember standing in that mediocre office in a drab North Atlanta office park and thinking to myself at what point would this client stop pretending to be a viable business and start trying to actually be one. “This website needs to make us look very big and very credible” he said through a grunt while moving the hard top to his Carrera from one side of the office to the other.
There could be no doubt everything I was involved with; all the photos, headlines, designs and this new fangled website thing (It was 1998) had a single aim- sell the company at a higher price. This company was not unlike many I was working with. There was energy in the air. Everyone was buying and expanding and visioning. There was only one problem- no one was actually making anything. The entire economy was virtual. It’s was taboo to point this out, of course. You wouldn’t want to say anything that might begin the inevitable avalanche of falling confidence.
The late 90s dot com era seems like a lifetime ago but it came back to me, in a sense, when I got an invite from the my local Chamber of Commerce indicating that their annual meeting would have some sort of Twitter theme. Now, I’m not too proud to admit it. I tweet. Perhaps it was my desire to find connection with the younger generation much like when I grew my hair out long despite being over the age of 30. Those poor souls who follow my tweets will probably complain to you that 90% of my dispatches are updates as to the growth and proliferation of my garden. But for you non-tweeter, let me explain the magic of twitter.
Imagine sending a quick e-mail to a select group of friends where the message will also reside on a page where people can see your other messages. Also, people can sign up to receive your messages and you can sign up to read other people’s messages. The messages must be 140 characters or less. Yes, that’s what this whole mesmerizing phenomenon really just comes down to. I know, you could have done much of that with e-mail and a website years ago. Now, that’s what twitter is in a functional sense, here’s what it is in a practical sense. Take the aforementioned technology and try to use it to either make yourself seem more attractive, hip, intellectual, popular or “plugged in” or try to use it to hock worthless junk either blatantly or in a seemingly innocuous message that is a bit like “Just got back from a jog. Time to make millions assembling products from home”.
I won’t lie. I have enjoyed keeping up with the tweets of a few folks. But here is my fear. There are at least a few businesses who believe the sheer magic of social networking tools (like twitter) are going to reverse the fortunes of an otherwise fundamentally flawed business. Even worse, there has been a meteoric rise of social networking “experts” who will promise you that you are just one tweet or face book update from windfall success. Where this gets really scary is the remarkably similar pattern all this has to virtual economies, bubbles and implosions of our recent past. Again, businesses are flocking in droves trying to find a quick cure-all rather than resolving fundamental problems of strategy.
When I lecture about this subject to groups, my favorite metaphor for economic transaction is the miller, the farmer and the blacksmith. Think of the very basics of transaction. Each of our medieval friends has some things the others need. The farmer grows grain but needs it milled. Both the miller and the blacksmith need grain to eat by way of the miller’s preparation. The miller and the farmer both need tools and parts from the blacksmith.
We know needs exist and the progression of an exchange is based in some pretty basic motivations. In the acquisition of that which is needed, the purchaser seeks reassurance that the expectation of that which they are acquiring will be fulfilled by that which they acquire. Put simply, if the farmer is exchanging two sacks of grain for a new plow, his intention is that the performance and ownership experience of the plow will be worth the exchange of his grain, time and energy. The deliverable of how a product, service or concept fulfills a set of needs is what a few of us in the marketing world call the promise. And it’s the promise where many companies fail strategically.
In my book The Promise and The Trust, I outline the things that distinguish good promises from bad. Good promises are differentiated in that they don’t simply promise something you can already get elsewhere. Good promise appreciate the whole value and experience of that which is to be acquired vs. that which is used as payment. The rise of CarMax proved that the too often gut wrenching experience of buying a car from a traditional dealer is a factor beyond the mere price. Good promises also resonate with actual needs instead of seeking to solve needs that don’t really exist at a commercially viable level. Finally, good promise are those in which it is believable that the organization making the promise can fulfill what is claimed. GM can claim they’re driving the American Revolution all they want. We still know they’re making a ton of cars in Mexico.
Until a company understands and can articulate a solid promise, no amount of any marketing tactic is going to help. It’s does not matter if they are featured in “100 great places to work” or if they have a new I-phone game, without a good promise it is all window dressing. With a good promise, the trust-building can be relatively easy. BMW’s advertising is by no means groundbreaking. They don’t send me tweets or connect with me on linked-in. I imagine their press coverage might be nice but I hardly have read it. Yet the position of a car, which is truly thrilling to drive, is firm in my and so many other minds. Their promise is solid and enduring and it has paid off. For comparison, what do you supposed GM’s promise is. Yeah, they don’t know either.
After a company’s promise is firm all the other activities intending to build credibility that the promise will be fulfilled begin to occur. This is the tactical side of marketing rather than the strategic and it is where most people in marketing concentrate their thinking. Things like websites, newspapers ads, radio spots, infomercials, sponsorships, news articles and yes, twitter- all aim to build trust that a promise will be fulfilled. However, without a solid promise in which to build confidence, all of these tactics are futile. Think about it, what exactly are you asking people to trust? That you are really, really, really cool or important or successful? Look at most ads- that’s exactly what they are asking consumers to do. When you boil it down, the reason most companies give for why you should give them money, time and attention is that they are cool, important or successful. Nothing about how they meet needs- just that they are more awesome than everyone else. Hardly compelling.
Instead, trust should be built by explaining how you are meeting needs, indentifying with consumers and getting the individual or organization endorsement needed to allay consumer’s mistrust of claims. Take note, I’m am not saying do one of these things. Your marketing should do all of these things. The goal is to tell a story as to why you can be trusted to fulfill consumer’s particular needs.
The world of commerce is at an important crossroads. The shrinking of incomes and credit is making people a bit more tight-fisted with their resources than they were in the past. This could mean great things for the companies that are clear about their promise and do the kinds of things that help people trust that promise. However, this next era in our economy might spell disaster for the aimless, untrustworthy and hapless huckster who cannot muster a sales pitch beyond “hey everyone, look how cool and zany I am”.
The phenomenon of social networking is about to exit its honeymoon and people will begin to ask if it really did all the things that were promised. I suspect, much like the remnants of the dot com era, some of the applications will be around for a while albeit in a more realistic commercial use. Meanwhile, the peddlers of marketing cure-alls will move on to some other bubble and the rest of us will sift through the remains looking for the lessons.
Perhaps if we all stop and think rationally, we might be able to see some of the telltale signs that ignoring the strategic in favor of the tactical has already begun to erode value and confidence. Perhaps we might look back just a few short years and remember the lessons from an economy that also had no real products but plenty of empty promises. If so, we should really start to warn each other. Let’s tell people to focus of fulfilling needs and keeping promises. Let’s spur business to think about what they really do and get them to tell everyone else about it in a compelling way that encourages trust.
Of course, they’ll need to do it in 140 characters or less.
There could be no doubt everything I was involved with; all the photos, headlines, designs and this new fangled website thing (It was 1998) had a single aim- sell the company at a higher price. This company was not unlike many I was working with. There was energy in the air. Everyone was buying and expanding and visioning. There was only one problem- no one was actually making anything. The entire economy was virtual. It’s was taboo to point this out, of course. You wouldn’t want to say anything that might begin the inevitable avalanche of falling confidence.
The late 90s dot com era seems like a lifetime ago but it came back to me, in a sense, when I got an invite from the my local Chamber of Commerce indicating that their annual meeting would have some sort of Twitter theme. Now, I’m not too proud to admit it. I tweet. Perhaps it was my desire to find connection with the younger generation much like when I grew my hair out long despite being over the age of 30. Those poor souls who follow my tweets will probably complain to you that 90% of my dispatches are updates as to the growth and proliferation of my garden. But for you non-tweeter, let me explain the magic of twitter.
Imagine sending a quick e-mail to a select group of friends where the message will also reside on a page where people can see your other messages. Also, people can sign up to receive your messages and you can sign up to read other people’s messages. The messages must be 140 characters or less. Yes, that’s what this whole mesmerizing phenomenon really just comes down to. I know, you could have done much of that with e-mail and a website years ago. Now, that’s what twitter is in a functional sense, here’s what it is in a practical sense. Take the aforementioned technology and try to use it to either make yourself seem more attractive, hip, intellectual, popular or “plugged in” or try to use it to hock worthless junk either blatantly or in a seemingly innocuous message that is a bit like “Just got back from a jog. Time to make millions assembling products from home”.
I won’t lie. I have enjoyed keeping up with the tweets of a few folks. But here is my fear. There are at least a few businesses who believe the sheer magic of social networking tools (like twitter) are going to reverse the fortunes of an otherwise fundamentally flawed business. Even worse, there has been a meteoric rise of social networking “experts” who will promise you that you are just one tweet or face book update from windfall success. Where this gets really scary is the remarkably similar pattern all this has to virtual economies, bubbles and implosions of our recent past. Again, businesses are flocking in droves trying to find a quick cure-all rather than resolving fundamental problems of strategy.
When I lecture about this subject to groups, my favorite metaphor for economic transaction is the miller, the farmer and the blacksmith. Think of the very basics of transaction. Each of our medieval friends has some things the others need. The farmer grows grain but needs it milled. Both the miller and the blacksmith need grain to eat by way of the miller’s preparation. The miller and the farmer both need tools and parts from the blacksmith.
We know needs exist and the progression of an exchange is based in some pretty basic motivations. In the acquisition of that which is needed, the purchaser seeks reassurance that the expectation of that which they are acquiring will be fulfilled by that which they acquire. Put simply, if the farmer is exchanging two sacks of grain for a new plow, his intention is that the performance and ownership experience of the plow will be worth the exchange of his grain, time and energy. The deliverable of how a product, service or concept fulfills a set of needs is what a few of us in the marketing world call the promise. And it’s the promise where many companies fail strategically.
In my book The Promise and The Trust, I outline the things that distinguish good promises from bad. Good promises are differentiated in that they don’t simply promise something you can already get elsewhere. Good promise appreciate the whole value and experience of that which is to be acquired vs. that which is used as payment. The rise of CarMax proved that the too often gut wrenching experience of buying a car from a traditional dealer is a factor beyond the mere price. Good promises also resonate with actual needs instead of seeking to solve needs that don’t really exist at a commercially viable level. Finally, good promise are those in which it is believable that the organization making the promise can fulfill what is claimed. GM can claim they’re driving the American Revolution all they want. We still know they’re making a ton of cars in Mexico.
Until a company understands and can articulate a solid promise, no amount of any marketing tactic is going to help. It’s does not matter if they are featured in “100 great places to work” or if they have a new I-phone game, without a good promise it is all window dressing. With a good promise, the trust-building can be relatively easy. BMW’s advertising is by no means groundbreaking. They don’t send me tweets or connect with me on linked-in. I imagine their press coverage might be nice but I hardly have read it. Yet the position of a car, which is truly thrilling to drive, is firm in my and so many other minds. Their promise is solid and enduring and it has paid off. For comparison, what do you supposed GM’s promise is. Yeah, they don’t know either.
After a company’s promise is firm all the other activities intending to build credibility that the promise will be fulfilled begin to occur. This is the tactical side of marketing rather than the strategic and it is where most people in marketing concentrate their thinking. Things like websites, newspapers ads, radio spots, infomercials, sponsorships, news articles and yes, twitter- all aim to build trust that a promise will be fulfilled. However, without a solid promise in which to build confidence, all of these tactics are futile. Think about it, what exactly are you asking people to trust? That you are really, really, really cool or important or successful? Look at most ads- that’s exactly what they are asking consumers to do. When you boil it down, the reason most companies give for why you should give them money, time and attention is that they are cool, important or successful. Nothing about how they meet needs- just that they are more awesome than everyone else. Hardly compelling.
Instead, trust should be built by explaining how you are meeting needs, indentifying with consumers and getting the individual or organization endorsement needed to allay consumer’s mistrust of claims. Take note, I’m am not saying do one of these things. Your marketing should do all of these things. The goal is to tell a story as to why you can be trusted to fulfill consumer’s particular needs.
The world of commerce is at an important crossroads. The shrinking of incomes and credit is making people a bit more tight-fisted with their resources than they were in the past. This could mean great things for the companies that are clear about their promise and do the kinds of things that help people trust that promise. However, this next era in our economy might spell disaster for the aimless, untrustworthy and hapless huckster who cannot muster a sales pitch beyond “hey everyone, look how cool and zany I am”.
The phenomenon of social networking is about to exit its honeymoon and people will begin to ask if it really did all the things that were promised. I suspect, much like the remnants of the dot com era, some of the applications will be around for a while albeit in a more realistic commercial use. Meanwhile, the peddlers of marketing cure-alls will move on to some other bubble and the rest of us will sift through the remains looking for the lessons.
Perhaps if we all stop and think rationally, we might be able to see some of the telltale signs that ignoring the strategic in favor of the tactical has already begun to erode value and confidence. Perhaps we might look back just a few short years and remember the lessons from an economy that also had no real products but plenty of empty promises. If so, we should really start to warn each other. Let’s tell people to focus of fulfilling needs and keeping promises. Let’s spur business to think about what they really do and get them to tell everyone else about it in a compelling way that encourages trust.
Of course, they’ll need to do it in 140 characters or less.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The only two words that matter in marketing.
In the beginning, there were ideas. Those ideas turned into businesses. One person milled grain. Another made cheese. And another shaped metal. And then, in time the crafts began to specialize. The blacksmith profession split and some blacksmiths specialized in horseshoes and other specialized in making things like swords.
Businesses were built with refined purposes. For many, the business was driven by passion. The craftsmen and smiths took pride in their work and the reputations they had made for selling quality goods. Bigger businesses were formed to serve bigger needs.
Even today, we tell the story of great and passionate entrepreneurs whose drive and purpose guide companies to greatness. We wax of their focus and vision. We tell of their passion for their employees and customers. We pry through their histories hoping to reveal that magic blueprint for unbridled success.
But then something happened. Businesses began to separate from those focused purposes. Instead of intensely living out a passion or purpose, companies tried to manufacture the appearance of purpose. Companies separated from being focused on products, customers and experiences and became more focused on the mirage of celebrity executives, Wall Street roller coaster rides and disconnected branding veneer meant to hide aimless, purposeless and insatiable companies.
Mission statements went from being aspirations to a bunch of corporate puffery. Organizations no longer had concrete reasons for being other than creating the perception of making money. Brands became synonyms for the orchestrated trickery meant to persuade consumers that our products, services and companies are really something more than they really are.
At the same time and possibly instigated by the beckoning complexity of the finance and IT portions of business, marketing departments began to intoxicate themselves with all manner of potions and elixir cure-alls. Psychographic segmentation, media mix modeling, buzz worthiness, executive blogs and a whole host of other marketing malarkey helped sooth otherwise aimless and fruitless efforts by allowing everyone to look really busy.
In truth, there are only two words that matter in marketing: Promise and Trust. Your company has something distinct and differentiating about it, otherwise it would not exist. It is a promise to consumers. Understanding that promise is crucial to the point that you should remove everything that is in the way of carrying out that promise and accentuate the things that are helping. This means products, systems, people and processes.
A whole lot of successful companies do this without even knowing it. The reason why they do is because they start with a focused purpose and keep it potent. They manage the interaction with the customers and keep a level of attentiveness and transparency that consumer’s feel they can support. In short, these companies prove to customers that every dollar spent on the company’s products will result in the benefits promised and expected, be they functional, emotional or experiential.
Consumers want to know their investment of time; energy and any other resources will have the intended result. They want and need to know that what you are offering is not fully duplicated elsewhere for less money, will be worth their investment and will deliver the desired result. This is where trust comes in. People want to know they are making a wise choice with their resources. All the little procedures we do under the marketing umbrella are (or at least should be) aimed at increasing the trust that customer resources are well placed.
The goal of marketing is to build trust in the promise of the offering. It is that simple. No amount of marketing tactics will ever overcome the need of companies to make a compelling promise that they can deliver and then help consumers believe that promise. Consumers have always been and continue to be interested in getting the desired result for their investment. Offerings that clearly offer and pitch such will be successful.
The above material is part of a my forthcoming book and an accompanying presentation I am giving to marketers, marketing organizations and students. The presentation discusses the two crucial and often overlooked words in marketing in a 45-minute talk full of stories and examples. It is valuable to brand and general managers and those that advise on brand marketing activities. If you are interested in having me come talk to your staff, club or class email me at jeff@sn-ta.com
Businesses were built with refined purposes. For many, the business was driven by passion. The craftsmen and smiths took pride in their work and the reputations they had made for selling quality goods. Bigger businesses were formed to serve bigger needs.
Even today, we tell the story of great and passionate entrepreneurs whose drive and purpose guide companies to greatness. We wax of their focus and vision. We tell of their passion for their employees and customers. We pry through their histories hoping to reveal that magic blueprint for unbridled success.
But then something happened. Businesses began to separate from those focused purposes. Instead of intensely living out a passion or purpose, companies tried to manufacture the appearance of purpose. Companies separated from being focused on products, customers and experiences and became more focused on the mirage of celebrity executives, Wall Street roller coaster rides and disconnected branding veneer meant to hide aimless, purposeless and insatiable companies.
Mission statements went from being aspirations to a bunch of corporate puffery. Organizations no longer had concrete reasons for being other than creating the perception of making money. Brands became synonyms for the orchestrated trickery meant to persuade consumers that our products, services and companies are really something more than they really are.
At the same time and possibly instigated by the beckoning complexity of the finance and IT portions of business, marketing departments began to intoxicate themselves with all manner of potions and elixir cure-alls. Psychographic segmentation, media mix modeling, buzz worthiness, executive blogs and a whole host of other marketing malarkey helped sooth otherwise aimless and fruitless efforts by allowing everyone to look really busy.
In truth, there are only two words that matter in marketing: Promise and Trust. Your company has something distinct and differentiating about it, otherwise it would not exist. It is a promise to consumers. Understanding that promise is crucial to the point that you should remove everything that is in the way of carrying out that promise and accentuate the things that are helping. This means products, systems, people and processes.
A whole lot of successful companies do this without even knowing it. The reason why they do is because they start with a focused purpose and keep it potent. They manage the interaction with the customers and keep a level of attentiveness and transparency that consumer’s feel they can support. In short, these companies prove to customers that every dollar spent on the company’s products will result in the benefits promised and expected, be they functional, emotional or experiential.
Consumers want to know their investment of time; energy and any other resources will have the intended result. They want and need to know that what you are offering is not fully duplicated elsewhere for less money, will be worth their investment and will deliver the desired result. This is where trust comes in. People want to know they are making a wise choice with their resources. All the little procedures we do under the marketing umbrella are (or at least should be) aimed at increasing the trust that customer resources are well placed.
The goal of marketing is to build trust in the promise of the offering. It is that simple. No amount of marketing tactics will ever overcome the need of companies to make a compelling promise that they can deliver and then help consumers believe that promise. Consumers have always been and continue to be interested in getting the desired result for their investment. Offerings that clearly offer and pitch such will be successful.
The above material is part of a my forthcoming book and an accompanying presentation I am giving to marketers, marketing organizations and students. The presentation discusses the two crucial and often overlooked words in marketing in a 45-minute talk full of stories and examples. It is valuable to brand and general managers and those that advise on brand marketing activities. If you are interested in having me come talk to your staff, club or class email me at jeff@sn-ta.com
Sunday, April 19, 2009
What’s at the bottom of cocktail cove?
Outside Atlanta, on Lake Lanier, sits a special little cove with a notorious reputation that could make Charlie Sheen blush. Cocktail Cove has hardly any road access, so it became a destination for crazy hillbillies, dot-com millionaires and the girls who seek them out. The bands of boozers would tie their boats together, knock back boxed wine and wander boat-to-boat, helping contribute to Georgia’s population of children in State custody.
You could call Cocktail Cove picturesque, just as you could call a retaining pond picturesque right after its construction is completed. Lanier’s water bears striking resemblance to the water in a port-o-potty (it does smell better), and the beaches were stuffed so full of shirtless rebels that it looks like a Jimmy Buffett concert at a prison. The only thing that really elevated the level of the place were the yachts, houseboats and cigarette boats all tied together, despite the occasional over-served partier ending up in the water.
Cocktail Cove was legendary in its heyday, but the drought drained Lanier so much that Georgia almost declared war on Tennessee in the course of an attempt to siphon water out of the Tennessee River. Lanier’s water dropped so low that many boats sat stranded on docks up dry streams. The water receded, and secrets were discovered. The farmsteads that lay underneath Lanier began to poke chimneys above the water. The trees that had laid for decades under the water lay bare on sand. And beneath Cocktail Cove lay a mountain of garbage that would make Wall-E commit suicide.
The never-ending party had created a mountain of beer cans, full garbage bags, grills, boat equipment, chicken bones, prophylactics, and pretty much any other piece of garbage you would expect to come from decades of partying. It looked like someone had put twelve full dumpsters in a blender and dumped the result in a pile 10 feet tall and 40 feet across.
I might be the only person who looked at what was beneath Cocktail Cove and thought about corporate management.
There is an old saying that often gets used in economic development to describe large, positive economic events: “a rising tide lifts all boats.” And it’s true. A strong economy or economic force lifts plenty of ventures. If a large manufacturing facility comes to a small town, it creates ripples that lift the entire town’s economy. A strong economy can lift all businesses, even those with less than watertight strategies.
Thanks to Cocktail Cove, I have a new saying to describe what happens when the boom years depart and you must confront the decisions made in better times. A rising tide may lift all boats, but a receding tide shows all the crap you threw overboard when you thought no one was looking.
As a country, we enjoyed a mighty party for a number of years. We grilled and drank and tied our yachts together. We partied in Cocktail Cove until the wee hours. But now the tide has gone out, and we’re left to deal with all the garbage we thought we could hide under the waves.
I have seen more than a few good businesses go down in this recession. I have seen some companies blind-sided by bad luck. But I have also seen companies convinced by their performance in a strong economy that they were invincible try to act on impractical and poorly conceived plans based on premises that no longer exist and probably never did. The water is gone, and all those great party plans are scuttled among years worth of garbage.
So what’s at the bottom of Cocktail Cove? Here’s what you’ll find and where you’ll find it.
Poor decisions that go unchecked by the market.
I remember once advising someone to reverse a dumb idea because it was sapping the equity from their other brands. The field sales organization knew it. The dealers knew it. Most of the customers I talked to knew it. But sales remained steady, so they thought it must have been a good idea. Never mind that the market was as robust as they had seen in decades. Never mind that the company had launched a new product and customers were eager for it even though they felt they had to hold their noses to buy it. Never mind that his brand led its category and the new brand was not even associated with the line of products. Never mind any of this because when the tide is up, who cares what you throw overboard.
But what happens when the tide goes out? A ferocious and well-armed competitor is preparing to foray into the market in a serious and capable way. The first organization will still have its pants around its ankles, trying to explain its strategy. Without being checked for bad decision-making by the market, the organization is sounding the all-clear and venturing down a terrible path.
In a less buoyed market, dumb decisions are checked more quickly and easily, and in a market when people are buying everything indiscriminately, it is tough to discern what is good strategy from what merely appears good on the surface. It was in the robust economic cycle that the camera shop I once worked ventured into selling custom framing and cell phones. In case you’re wondering, it eventually went bankrupt. Twice.
Impractical and impossible schemes.
The art of brand consultation became high art during strong economic years. Sadly, much of the consultation turned out to be worthless junk, and nobody cared because they were still making money. Believe me, GM cares now that they stupidly built one car and put four names on it, but when they were flush with cash, they were convinced they wrote the rules of marketing.
The activities associated with the high times continue to linger even after the tide goes out. It’s like a guy who shows up at the garbage pile where Cocktail Cove was and still wants to party. The utter tomfoolery of Atlanta’s dot-com scene was the finest example of this. Marketing numbskulls who made calendars with nude women holding microchips and idiots who commissioned paintings and then took out ads to brag about it continued to preach their failed marketing viewpoints to any business that would listen. The use of arrogance and pomposity as a marketing strategy lingered well after the bubble burst in a hangover that would rival anything anyone ever experienced at Cocktail Cove.
What’s really buried at Cocktail Cove is reality.
The thing that bothers me most is that what’s beneath Cocktail Cove is always there, even if you don’t see it. I think it’s rare that businesses don’t understand their fundamentals, but they become convinced that good times will never end.
If you look at what happened to real estate in 2008, you’ll see financial instruments developed with the assumption that real estate would never lose value. I told a friend I was concerned about what would happen when the proverbial music turned off and there weren’t enough chairs for everyone only to be rebuffed for “not getting it.” In truth, the scariest (and dumbest) thing to do when the tide is in is make plans as if it will never go out again.
While I write this, it has rained in Athens for more than a week. The state climatologist has said the soil is saturated and most reservoirs are at full pool. Even Lanier is starting to fill up. The water is starting to rise in Cocktail Cove. Before long, there will be yachts tied together, girls in bikinis and spray tans sunning themselves, and guys wearing chains with little golden anchors on them. Companies will chase after the unattainable and, more likely, undesirable. Consultants will peddle whatever fad they can with the same fever in which they peddled the last fad, now at the bottom of the cove.
What a party it will be. It will go on all weekend and then all summer; some will party like it will never end. They will laugh at those of us that stick to sound business fundamentals, saying we don’t have the vision or the guts to be successful. And even though the people who said that just before the last tide went out are on their fourth job selling condos in Buckhead, the water’s up and this gaggle will not be swayed into thinking things could ever change. So let’s get ready for the next party. Bring the little lights shaped like chili peppers, and I’ll give you my vaunted recipe for Texas-style margaritas, but I won’t pretend the party never ends. I know what’s at the bottom.
You could call Cocktail Cove picturesque, just as you could call a retaining pond picturesque right after its construction is completed. Lanier’s water bears striking resemblance to the water in a port-o-potty (it does smell better), and the beaches were stuffed so full of shirtless rebels that it looks like a Jimmy Buffett concert at a prison. The only thing that really elevated the level of the place were the yachts, houseboats and cigarette boats all tied together, despite the occasional over-served partier ending up in the water.
Cocktail Cove was legendary in its heyday, but the drought drained Lanier so much that Georgia almost declared war on Tennessee in the course of an attempt to siphon water out of the Tennessee River. Lanier’s water dropped so low that many boats sat stranded on docks up dry streams. The water receded, and secrets were discovered. The farmsteads that lay underneath Lanier began to poke chimneys above the water. The trees that had laid for decades under the water lay bare on sand. And beneath Cocktail Cove lay a mountain of garbage that would make Wall-E commit suicide.
The never-ending party had created a mountain of beer cans, full garbage bags, grills, boat equipment, chicken bones, prophylactics, and pretty much any other piece of garbage you would expect to come from decades of partying. It looked like someone had put twelve full dumpsters in a blender and dumped the result in a pile 10 feet tall and 40 feet across.
I might be the only person who looked at what was beneath Cocktail Cove and thought about corporate management.
There is an old saying that often gets used in economic development to describe large, positive economic events: “a rising tide lifts all boats.” And it’s true. A strong economy or economic force lifts plenty of ventures. If a large manufacturing facility comes to a small town, it creates ripples that lift the entire town’s economy. A strong economy can lift all businesses, even those with less than watertight strategies.
Thanks to Cocktail Cove, I have a new saying to describe what happens when the boom years depart and you must confront the decisions made in better times. A rising tide may lift all boats, but a receding tide shows all the crap you threw overboard when you thought no one was looking.
As a country, we enjoyed a mighty party for a number of years. We grilled and drank and tied our yachts together. We partied in Cocktail Cove until the wee hours. But now the tide has gone out, and we’re left to deal with all the garbage we thought we could hide under the waves.
I have seen more than a few good businesses go down in this recession. I have seen some companies blind-sided by bad luck. But I have also seen companies convinced by their performance in a strong economy that they were invincible try to act on impractical and poorly conceived plans based on premises that no longer exist and probably never did. The water is gone, and all those great party plans are scuttled among years worth of garbage.
So what’s at the bottom of Cocktail Cove? Here’s what you’ll find and where you’ll find it.
Poor decisions that go unchecked by the market.
I remember once advising someone to reverse a dumb idea because it was sapping the equity from their other brands. The field sales organization knew it. The dealers knew it. Most of the customers I talked to knew it. But sales remained steady, so they thought it must have been a good idea. Never mind that the market was as robust as they had seen in decades. Never mind that the company had launched a new product and customers were eager for it even though they felt they had to hold their noses to buy it. Never mind that his brand led its category and the new brand was not even associated with the line of products. Never mind any of this because when the tide is up, who cares what you throw overboard.
But what happens when the tide goes out? A ferocious and well-armed competitor is preparing to foray into the market in a serious and capable way. The first organization will still have its pants around its ankles, trying to explain its strategy. Without being checked for bad decision-making by the market, the organization is sounding the all-clear and venturing down a terrible path.
In a less buoyed market, dumb decisions are checked more quickly and easily, and in a market when people are buying everything indiscriminately, it is tough to discern what is good strategy from what merely appears good on the surface. It was in the robust economic cycle that the camera shop I once worked ventured into selling custom framing and cell phones. In case you’re wondering, it eventually went bankrupt. Twice.
Impractical and impossible schemes.
The art of brand consultation became high art during strong economic years. Sadly, much of the consultation turned out to be worthless junk, and nobody cared because they were still making money. Believe me, GM cares now that they stupidly built one car and put four names on it, but when they were flush with cash, they were convinced they wrote the rules of marketing.
The activities associated with the high times continue to linger even after the tide goes out. It’s like a guy who shows up at the garbage pile where Cocktail Cove was and still wants to party. The utter tomfoolery of Atlanta’s dot-com scene was the finest example of this. Marketing numbskulls who made calendars with nude women holding microchips and idiots who commissioned paintings and then took out ads to brag about it continued to preach their failed marketing viewpoints to any business that would listen. The use of arrogance and pomposity as a marketing strategy lingered well after the bubble burst in a hangover that would rival anything anyone ever experienced at Cocktail Cove.
What’s really buried at Cocktail Cove is reality.
The thing that bothers me most is that what’s beneath Cocktail Cove is always there, even if you don’t see it. I think it’s rare that businesses don’t understand their fundamentals, but they become convinced that good times will never end.
If you look at what happened to real estate in 2008, you’ll see financial instruments developed with the assumption that real estate would never lose value. I told a friend I was concerned about what would happen when the proverbial music turned off and there weren’t enough chairs for everyone only to be rebuffed for “not getting it.” In truth, the scariest (and dumbest) thing to do when the tide is in is make plans as if it will never go out again.
While I write this, it has rained in Athens for more than a week. The state climatologist has said the soil is saturated and most reservoirs are at full pool. Even Lanier is starting to fill up. The water is starting to rise in Cocktail Cove. Before long, there will be yachts tied together, girls in bikinis and spray tans sunning themselves, and guys wearing chains with little golden anchors on them. Companies will chase after the unattainable and, more likely, undesirable. Consultants will peddle whatever fad they can with the same fever in which they peddled the last fad, now at the bottom of the cove.
What a party it will be. It will go on all weekend and then all summer; some will party like it will never end. They will laugh at those of us that stick to sound business fundamentals, saying we don’t have the vision or the guts to be successful. And even though the people who said that just before the last tide went out are on their fourth job selling condos in Buckhead, the water’s up and this gaggle will not be swayed into thinking things could ever change. So let’s get ready for the next party. Bring the little lights shaped like chili peppers, and I’ll give you my vaunted recipe for Texas-style margaritas, but I won’t pretend the party never ends. I know what’s at the bottom.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Taddie's Time Capsule.
The first time capsule ceremony I went to was absolutely stupid.
I was attending Berkeley Lake Elementary, a little school poised on a lake that was once a water-accessible-only retreat of Atlanta's well-to-do. Actually a very scenic place, it felt cheapened by us burying an elementary school yearbook, school spirit T-shirt and some reading textbooks. I guess, even at that young age, I didn't see the point. By the time the time capsule would be opened, plenty of those yearbooks would still be in prime condition sitting unopened in people's attics and garages. The T-shirts would have near duplicates worn ironically by Vassar dropouts living in the Lower East Side. And, thanks to spectacular education funding, the textbooks are still being used, though stickers now adorn them to correct their politics.
I got a new appreciation for the idea of a time capsule after my great aunt died. Taddie's house is what Shakespeare's house might have looked like if he were a meth addict. Taddie saved everything and it made for a pretty decent treasure find these many years later. We found 19th century antiques, several very old books and a complete season of Wheel of Fortune on videotape (talk about time capsule!). Taddie had been in a nursing home for several years and her house was a wreck. A tree had hit the roof and water poured in to soak the newspapers. The mountains of clothes held humidity and let off a scent something like burning yogurt.
As we cleaned through the house, I noticed the hatch to the attic. I had dismissed the attic at first, thinking that surely nothing of value would be in the attic. Too cliché. Boy, was I wrong. My father-in-law and I ventured up to find many of the family treasures resting as they had for decades. Large oil paintings of family patriarchs. Silver that my ancestors had hidden from the meddling Yanks during "The Great Unpleasantness". Many pieces of antique furniture. And then we saw the steamer trunks.
A rat scared the crap out of me when I opened the first trunk. It was full of clothes, personal items and a few letters. Apparently, after a family member had passed, their prized possessions, at least those that could fit in the trunk, were loaded up and drug into the attic for storage. Several of these trunks rested in the attic, each filled with the things that accompanied the lives of my ancestors. While searching through one particular trunk, we found a family member's small vial of brownish liquid. My father-in-law opened it thinking the scent of Great Grandma's perfume might bring back memories for my grandparents. But it was not perfume. It was bourbon, meaning the only memories it brought back were mine of college and even those were sufficiently cloudy.
So today, we have another time capsule of sorts. In business (and in business writing, in particular) it's easy to play Monday morning quarterback. We writers and theorists love to recall spectacular blunders and strategic stumbles while we infer causation of that enterprise's demise. Doing it in reverse is another story. Far fewer theorists are willing to make predictions with the same confidence they have in judging past efforts. So I am going to try it. I'm going to make a prediction and you'll get to judge whether or not I am right. I'm going to throw something in this time capsule and the payoff will be your awe over my prediction or the enjoyment you may get from my absolutely false prediction.
Around summer 2007, Chrysler was purchased by Cerberus Capital Management LP. I know the idea of a company being taken private is all the rage as of this writing and, with important exceptions, I think this will be a good thing for Chrysler.
One plus is that Chrysler will not have to continue to make moronic decisions that boost quarterly results at the expense of long term growth, as per the instructions of stock analysts, fund managers and other assorted know-it-alls. One negative is that they traded in one set of bankers for another and, like all bankers, they expect to get paid in the timeline they demand.
This brings up plenty of questions concerning the future of Chrysler. Changes in the economy raise new and troubling questions for how Chrysler might find the funds, markets and customers to support its proposed turnaround. The perverse and often baffling nature of automotive marketing means Chrysler could be walking into the perfect storm, its finest hour or, most likely, both.
So what do I want to throw in this little time capsule? Well, I have some predictions. Current Chrysler LLC President says the turnaround should be complete by about 2013. So make a bookmark or put it on you calendar. Like sand through the hourglass, only time will tell us the fate of Chrysler. So, here we go:
1) If Chrysler thins out competing models, the existing models will sell better over time.
Chrysler execs are claiming that they no longer want to cannibalize their models. What I would like to know is why they decided to do that in the first place. And they weren't the only ones. It seemed like for a period of several years, GM would make one car, only to change its bumpers, jack it up and put a new grill on it to make whichever brand you wanted. This is what happens when you let accountants and analysts make your marketing decisions.
2) If Chrysler properly manages their portfolio of brands, they will gain share against competitors in the brand's respective market.
Why did Daimler Chrysler ever make a two-wheel drive...Jeep? It's not worth answering. By chasing the grocery-getter market they allowed the entrance of Hummer and Land Rover. People who wanted a real 4x4 did not want to drive the soccer practice special. Jeep failed to own this position, so eventually they were supplanted by more focused competitors. The Chrysler brass says they want to align and focus their brands. If they do it right, they will do well.
3) If Chrysler can get away from doing the things car companies and dealers have always done, they will benefit.
Okay, I must disclaim that Chrysler has been mum on this subject, save for their plans to thin the dealer network by a third. And I like the idea of thinning the dealerships because there are too many. When Toyota launched Lexus, part of the strategy was to limit dealerships to avoid over-saturation and enhance the elusive appeal of the car. It worked.
My opinion is that Chrysler needs to get away from door buster sales, inflatable gorillas and the guy in Atlanta who says, "All I do is discount Dodges". The dealers have cheapened the brands with their snake oil sales pitches. This once perennial brand has lost credibility due to price offs, infinite financing and campy dealer advertisements. In fact, when thinning the dealer organizations, I would start with anyone who features their kids in the ads as first on the chopping block. It's high time Chrysler grabs its wonky dealers by the horns. Hit it! (Bass line)
Chrysler has a great opportunity right now to stop being so much of a car company. For so long, Chrysler has competed on attributes and financial incentives. As if the company itself believes that no one really wants a Chrysler, they just want features and don't care about the brand. This attitude has become a self-fulfilling prophecy and the car category, which once thrived on brand differentiation, is now a wasteland of super brands that don't really stand for anything.
This new economy has a mandate. Get smarter about your marketing. To make money is not as easy as it used to be and it will not get much easier in the near future. As attributes become commodities, companies will be forced to think about what their brand means to consumers. Chrysler seems to be doing that right now. When we dig up these ideas years from now will they smell old, outdated and offensive, like the three-year-old pasta in Taddie's fridge? Or will they have seasoned and mellowed like Great Grandmama's bourbon stash? Will the concepts I have put forth just become matter of fact? Will many businesses be thinking more deeply about their interaction with consumers?
I was attending Berkeley Lake Elementary, a little school poised on a lake that was once a water-accessible-only retreat of Atlanta's well-to-do. Actually a very scenic place, it felt cheapened by us burying an elementary school yearbook, school spirit T-shirt and some reading textbooks. I guess, even at that young age, I didn't see the point. By the time the time capsule would be opened, plenty of those yearbooks would still be in prime condition sitting unopened in people's attics and garages. The T-shirts would have near duplicates worn ironically by Vassar dropouts living in the Lower East Side. And, thanks to spectacular education funding, the textbooks are still being used, though stickers now adorn them to correct their politics.
I got a new appreciation for the idea of a time capsule after my great aunt died. Taddie's house is what Shakespeare's house might have looked like if he were a meth addict. Taddie saved everything and it made for a pretty decent treasure find these many years later. We found 19th century antiques, several very old books and a complete season of Wheel of Fortune on videotape (talk about time capsule!). Taddie had been in a nursing home for several years and her house was a wreck. A tree had hit the roof and water poured in to soak the newspapers. The mountains of clothes held humidity and let off a scent something like burning yogurt.
As we cleaned through the house, I noticed the hatch to the attic. I had dismissed the attic at first, thinking that surely nothing of value would be in the attic. Too cliché. Boy, was I wrong. My father-in-law and I ventured up to find many of the family treasures resting as they had for decades. Large oil paintings of family patriarchs. Silver that my ancestors had hidden from the meddling Yanks during "The Great Unpleasantness". Many pieces of antique furniture. And then we saw the steamer trunks.
A rat scared the crap out of me when I opened the first trunk. It was full of clothes, personal items and a few letters. Apparently, after a family member had passed, their prized possessions, at least those that could fit in the trunk, were loaded up and drug into the attic for storage. Several of these trunks rested in the attic, each filled with the things that accompanied the lives of my ancestors. While searching through one particular trunk, we found a family member's small vial of brownish liquid. My father-in-law opened it thinking the scent of Great Grandma's perfume might bring back memories for my grandparents. But it was not perfume. It was bourbon, meaning the only memories it brought back were mine of college and even those were sufficiently cloudy.
So today, we have another time capsule of sorts. In business (and in business writing, in particular) it's easy to play Monday morning quarterback. We writers and theorists love to recall spectacular blunders and strategic stumbles while we infer causation of that enterprise's demise. Doing it in reverse is another story. Far fewer theorists are willing to make predictions with the same confidence they have in judging past efforts. So I am going to try it. I'm going to make a prediction and you'll get to judge whether or not I am right. I'm going to throw something in this time capsule and the payoff will be your awe over my prediction or the enjoyment you may get from my absolutely false prediction.
Around summer 2007, Chrysler was purchased by Cerberus Capital Management LP. I know the idea of a company being taken private is all the rage as of this writing and, with important exceptions, I think this will be a good thing for Chrysler.
One plus is that Chrysler will not have to continue to make moronic decisions that boost quarterly results at the expense of long term growth, as per the instructions of stock analysts, fund managers and other assorted know-it-alls. One negative is that they traded in one set of bankers for another and, like all bankers, they expect to get paid in the timeline they demand.
This brings up plenty of questions concerning the future of Chrysler. Changes in the economy raise new and troubling questions for how Chrysler might find the funds, markets and customers to support its proposed turnaround. The perverse and often baffling nature of automotive marketing means Chrysler could be walking into the perfect storm, its finest hour or, most likely, both.
So what do I want to throw in this little time capsule? Well, I have some predictions. Current Chrysler LLC President says the turnaround should be complete by about 2013. So make a bookmark or put it on you calendar. Like sand through the hourglass, only time will tell us the fate of Chrysler. So, here we go:
1) If Chrysler thins out competing models, the existing models will sell better over time.
Chrysler execs are claiming that they no longer want to cannibalize their models. What I would like to know is why they decided to do that in the first place. And they weren't the only ones. It seemed like for a period of several years, GM would make one car, only to change its bumpers, jack it up and put a new grill on it to make whichever brand you wanted. This is what happens when you let accountants and analysts make your marketing decisions.
2) If Chrysler properly manages their portfolio of brands, they will gain share against competitors in the brand's respective market.
Why did Daimler Chrysler ever make a two-wheel drive...Jeep? It's not worth answering. By chasing the grocery-getter market they allowed the entrance of Hummer and Land Rover. People who wanted a real 4x4 did not want to drive the soccer practice special. Jeep failed to own this position, so eventually they were supplanted by more focused competitors. The Chrysler brass says they want to align and focus their brands. If they do it right, they will do well.
3) If Chrysler can get away from doing the things car companies and dealers have always done, they will benefit.
Okay, I must disclaim that Chrysler has been mum on this subject, save for their plans to thin the dealer network by a third. And I like the idea of thinning the dealerships because there are too many. When Toyota launched Lexus, part of the strategy was to limit dealerships to avoid over-saturation and enhance the elusive appeal of the car. It worked.
My opinion is that Chrysler needs to get away from door buster sales, inflatable gorillas and the guy in Atlanta who says, "All I do is discount Dodges". The dealers have cheapened the brands with their snake oil sales pitches. This once perennial brand has lost credibility due to price offs, infinite financing and campy dealer advertisements. In fact, when thinning the dealer organizations, I would start with anyone who features their kids in the ads as first on the chopping block. It's high time Chrysler grabs its wonky dealers by the horns. Hit it! (Bass line)
Chrysler has a great opportunity right now to stop being so much of a car company. For so long, Chrysler has competed on attributes and financial incentives. As if the company itself believes that no one really wants a Chrysler, they just want features and don't care about the brand. This attitude has become a self-fulfilling prophecy and the car category, which once thrived on brand differentiation, is now a wasteland of super brands that don't really stand for anything.
This new economy has a mandate. Get smarter about your marketing. To make money is not as easy as it used to be and it will not get much easier in the near future. As attributes become commodities, companies will be forced to think about what their brand means to consumers. Chrysler seems to be doing that right now. When we dig up these ideas years from now will they smell old, outdated and offensive, like the three-year-old pasta in Taddie's fridge? Or will they have seasoned and mellowed like Great Grandmama's bourbon stash? Will the concepts I have put forth just become matter of fact? Will many businesses be thinking more deeply about their interaction with consumers?
Monday, February 16, 2009
Looking Good.
We arrived in nearly total darkness, which didn't really matter because we didn't know where we were anyway. I had heard rumors of the Army training crags on Mount Yonah and Richard and I decided to check it out for ourselves. And so, with a thin rack of climbing gear and sub-standard camping supplies, we hopped in his pickup truck and drove to the desolate gravel road outside of Helen, Georgia.
The mountain campsite looked like BarterTown from "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome". Drunken country kids lit moonshine as they spit it out of their mouths. There was a loud Charlie Daniels Band sing-along. I'm pretty sure at least two fights broke out.
The next morning we got directions and started the walk up to the climbing routes. After a brief period of getting lost, we walked out onto a small rock shelf that served as the base of the face. I looked up the chunky routes and realized that these were far easier than the scant faces of California featured in all the rock climbing books we had been reading. We roped in, shuffled up the routes and were bored in no time.
I complained about my boredom to one of the regulars who informed me of a few more challenging routes just at the end of the face. "Foxy Lady" had a difficulty of about 5.8 and was a tiptoe up some acorn-like protrusions until you reached a narrow crack that walked you up the finish. It was harder than I expected, but it was nice to complete. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I set my sights on the adjacent climb, "Afternoon Delight," for the next day.
"Afternoon Delight" was an awkward climb pretty much the whole way up. I started by shimmying up a massive plate of disjoined granite to where I could stand on top. "I don't see where I'm supposed to go," I yelled down to Richard, who was belaying my line.
"Go up," he responded.
I have never seen a better belayer than Richard. His knowledge of the technical aspects of the climb combines perfectly with an ability to instill confidence. He also has a cunning ability to know the proper moment to yell, "Quit being such a bitch".
He was right. I was being a bitch. I was bitching about the fact that I could not see where the next move was.
All I could see was the slightest banana shaped indentation about collarbone high. And this situation only called for one move and I didn't want to do it. A mantel is where you pull up and over a hold and then quickly shift your arm to palm down over the hold. Think about getting out of the pool, without the stairs or the ladder.
The cherry on top of this maneuver was that the next hold, a body's length above the banana, was a little dime-sized extrusion. "Put your face into it," Richard yelled. He was right. Unless I could get my body weight directly over the banana, I would slip out and down. I pulled up and stuck my face right against the rock. In the same movement I shifted my arm and hauled my feet up into the banana. Without using any handholds, I stood up. Before I peeled away from the ledge and sailed down, I reached up and dug my fingernails into the tiny little hold. I was stable.
I looked up for the next move. Again, nothing. I thought I might sit a while and ponder but the hot sun made my hands and climbing shoes greasy. I was sliding off my holds.
"Those cracks to your right, start traversing straight right," he said.
I looked and saw what he was talking about. Three rungs of thin cracks made their way like a ladder just off to my right. I tiptoed over and did three pull-mantel-no-handed stand ups to the top. I should have been ready to celebrate. I felt like vomiting.
Had I been there by myself like Stallone in "Cliffhanger", I would have failed. Had I a belayer who didn't give me direction and encouragement, I may have quit at the banana.
Good belaying is about communication, understanding and mutual success. When you are the lead climber, your belayer tells you where the route goes and helps beef up your confidence. If you are the following climber, the lead climber belays you up the same route and tells you where most of the issues are in a closer sense.
Plenty of companies sure could use someone belaying them like Richard. They need a better view of the path ahead rather than just what lies directly in front of them. They need that safety line of someone who is at least tied into their same fate. They need someone to tell them to quit being such a bitch. Yet many companies try to go it alone without a rope and we see their bloodied corpses on the rocks below.
After a few trips up and down the mountain, I have seen what makes a good company belayer. So spit in your hands, pull up your tights and chalk up. Let's go climbing.
First, start with a good rope.
Or maybe a good thread, to be exact. The lifeline that customers often offer and so many companies refuse is the line of communication. Customers want to be involved or, at the very least, acknowledged. With today's technology, it's easier to get in, and stay in, touch with customers.
And there's something else to consider. The relationship between belayer and climber is not one of formal register. Consumers want to have a brand as a friend and, therefore, should be treated like friends. The more corporate hogwash you throw at them the less they'll want to hold the line for you.
Make sure you have a bonfire at the summit.
I'm always surprised how rarely companies engage their customers in any formal discussion about products and brands. The common attitude is that the company is somehow above the customer and, therefore, whatever the company dictates, the customer should do.
This is a lot like thinking the lead climber is somehow in charge just because he or she goes first. In truth, the lead climber and belayer both play essential roles. Having a dismissive attitude as the lead climber may prevent the belayer from telling you about the falcon's nest you're about to stick your hand in.
I suggest all companies use a customer council to ask questions, get insight and charge up your biggest fans. Considering how much money gets spent trying to build a stronger connection with clients, this should be a no-brainer.
Share the beta.
In climbing terms, beta is advance information concerning the climb. Even a beginning climber learns early on the benefits of sharing the beta. For starters, sharing beta with the other climbers you like means they will also share beta with you and you will all know more.
But perhaps the most important part about sharing beta is that each time you convey it, it begins to resonate more with you. Think about it. Every time you recite some directions or retell a story, you get better at it. Sing your company's beta to your coworkers and colleagues and you might actually start remembering it on the climb.
Looking good. Just ignore those bees.
Having the right partners and treating them like partners can keep you from falling in this business. A good belayer can really help you see beyond just your site. A great belayer can give you the needed information and confidence that you're going where the route is intended.
And let's not forget, at times we all need someone to tell us to quit being such a bitch
The mountain campsite looked like BarterTown from "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome". Drunken country kids lit moonshine as they spit it out of their mouths. There was a loud Charlie Daniels Band sing-along. I'm pretty sure at least two fights broke out.
The next morning we got directions and started the walk up to the climbing routes. After a brief period of getting lost, we walked out onto a small rock shelf that served as the base of the face. I looked up the chunky routes and realized that these were far easier than the scant faces of California featured in all the rock climbing books we had been reading. We roped in, shuffled up the routes and were bored in no time.
I complained about my boredom to one of the regulars who informed me of a few more challenging routes just at the end of the face. "Foxy Lady" had a difficulty of about 5.8 and was a tiptoe up some acorn-like protrusions until you reached a narrow crack that walked you up the finish. It was harder than I expected, but it was nice to complete. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I set my sights on the adjacent climb, "Afternoon Delight," for the next day.
"Afternoon Delight" was an awkward climb pretty much the whole way up. I started by shimmying up a massive plate of disjoined granite to where I could stand on top. "I don't see where I'm supposed to go," I yelled down to Richard, who was belaying my line.
"Go up," he responded.
I have never seen a better belayer than Richard. His knowledge of the technical aspects of the climb combines perfectly with an ability to instill confidence. He also has a cunning ability to know the proper moment to yell, "Quit being such a bitch".
He was right. I was being a bitch. I was bitching about the fact that I could not see where the next move was.
All I could see was the slightest banana shaped indentation about collarbone high. And this situation only called for one move and I didn't want to do it. A mantel is where you pull up and over a hold and then quickly shift your arm to palm down over the hold. Think about getting out of the pool, without the stairs or the ladder.
The cherry on top of this maneuver was that the next hold, a body's length above the banana, was a little dime-sized extrusion. "Put your face into it," Richard yelled. He was right. Unless I could get my body weight directly over the banana, I would slip out and down. I pulled up and stuck my face right against the rock. In the same movement I shifted my arm and hauled my feet up into the banana. Without using any handholds, I stood up. Before I peeled away from the ledge and sailed down, I reached up and dug my fingernails into the tiny little hold. I was stable.
I looked up for the next move. Again, nothing. I thought I might sit a while and ponder but the hot sun made my hands and climbing shoes greasy. I was sliding off my holds.
"Those cracks to your right, start traversing straight right," he said.
I looked and saw what he was talking about. Three rungs of thin cracks made their way like a ladder just off to my right. I tiptoed over and did three pull-mantel-no-handed stand ups to the top. I should have been ready to celebrate. I felt like vomiting.
Had I been there by myself like Stallone in "Cliffhanger", I would have failed. Had I a belayer who didn't give me direction and encouragement, I may have quit at the banana.
Good belaying is about communication, understanding and mutual success. When you are the lead climber, your belayer tells you where the route goes and helps beef up your confidence. If you are the following climber, the lead climber belays you up the same route and tells you where most of the issues are in a closer sense.
Plenty of companies sure could use someone belaying them like Richard. They need a better view of the path ahead rather than just what lies directly in front of them. They need that safety line of someone who is at least tied into their same fate. They need someone to tell them to quit being such a bitch. Yet many companies try to go it alone without a rope and we see their bloodied corpses on the rocks below.
After a few trips up and down the mountain, I have seen what makes a good company belayer. So spit in your hands, pull up your tights and chalk up. Let's go climbing.
First, start with a good rope.
Or maybe a good thread, to be exact. The lifeline that customers often offer and so many companies refuse is the line of communication. Customers want to be involved or, at the very least, acknowledged. With today's technology, it's easier to get in, and stay in, touch with customers.
And there's something else to consider. The relationship between belayer and climber is not one of formal register. Consumers want to have a brand as a friend and, therefore, should be treated like friends. The more corporate hogwash you throw at them the less they'll want to hold the line for you.
Make sure you have a bonfire at the summit.
I'm always surprised how rarely companies engage their customers in any formal discussion about products and brands. The common attitude is that the company is somehow above the customer and, therefore, whatever the company dictates, the customer should do.
This is a lot like thinking the lead climber is somehow in charge just because he or she goes first. In truth, the lead climber and belayer both play essential roles. Having a dismissive attitude as the lead climber may prevent the belayer from telling you about the falcon's nest you're about to stick your hand in.
I suggest all companies use a customer council to ask questions, get insight and charge up your biggest fans. Considering how much money gets spent trying to build a stronger connection with clients, this should be a no-brainer.
Share the beta.
In climbing terms, beta is advance information concerning the climb. Even a beginning climber learns early on the benefits of sharing the beta. For starters, sharing beta with the other climbers you like means they will also share beta with you and you will all know more.
But perhaps the most important part about sharing beta is that each time you convey it, it begins to resonate more with you. Think about it. Every time you recite some directions or retell a story, you get better at it. Sing your company's beta to your coworkers and colleagues and you might actually start remembering it on the climb.
Looking good. Just ignore those bees.
Having the right partners and treating them like partners can keep you from falling in this business. A good belayer can really help you see beyond just your site. A great belayer can give you the needed information and confidence that you're going where the route is intended.
And let's not forget, at times we all need someone to tell us to quit being such a bitch
Friday, January 16, 2009
My New Running Shoes.
My birthday was approaching and I am the very definition of the guy who has everything. For Christmas I got a keyboard to accompany my electric and acoustic guitars, bass guitar, violin, banjo, ukulele and bagpipes. I play a lot of musical instruments; my parents refused to pay for cable when I was a kid.
So I really had to search my mind for what I wanted this year. Though my wife Maura is an excellent gift buyer, even she was at a loss for what to get me. Since exercise had become our new thing, I started thinking of what could make the grind of 6 a.m. workouts just a bit easier. And then I realized there was something I had needed for a while: new running shoes.
In the past I would just go to the mall and pick out a pair in my old size. Now, however, I'm a bit pickier and slightly more accustomed to being handled, so we went to the New Balance store for a custom fit.
The guys in the store winced in pain when they saw my existing running shoes. They were a size tight and way too narrow. Having been a wrestler and a rock climber, I had always believed that shoes should be tight enough to break something. Think about it: when you are using your feet to pose on a rocky ledge or on the neck of some idiot from Norcross High, you don't want your feet to slip around inside the shoe.
The New Balance guy had me stand on a machine which measured my feet and made a recommendation. I was in no position to disagree with the shoe he suggested and the only real decision to make was the color. But this was harder than it sounds.
Throughout college, everyone wore grey New Balance running shoes (that is, when they weren't wearing their redneck work boots). And not necessarily for running. Just 'cause. And I'm not sure what the reasoning was. Perhaps because the grey 991s were amongst the more expensive shoes on the market and rich never goes out of style. Maybe it was because they were so understated, what with other manufacturers putting out shoes in electric blue with florescent mucous-colored accents. Even as I started to make the sounds of "Gggrrreee..." I stopped with an abrupt, "I'll take the blue ones". Maura asked me in the car why I choose blue over the old stalwart. "Because I don't want to be stuck in college". She knew exactly what I was saying, but the truth is we're all stuck in college.
Maybe not college per se, but there is a period in life where your sense of style begins to crystallize and you will use that point of reference to craft your style from there out. It's why my grandpa wears shirts with suspiciously large collars. He also wears velour jumpsuits. It's why you always see that group of people who look like they're dressed to go on a hike. That was the campus style in the early 1990s, and they've been on the trail wherever they go ever since. Your style gets locked in and, even though you may try to fight against it, it's difficult. And you may emerge looking a little odd. We've all seen that guy who tries to dress like a pro skateboarder or the mom who thinks she's a backup dancer for Britney Spears. It's just sad.
Why do we get locked in? It's comfortable, like grandpa's jumpsuit. And since our peers seem to be doing it we figure it can't be all that far from fashionable.
Businesses have their college years. They shed the old duds from high school and start looking fresh and successful. Like all of us, almost every business can point to that period known as "the days" and at least something from "the days" has persisted. And there's nothing wrong with remembering the past. Heck, sometimes our old style becomes retro fashionable, renewing our vitality while garnering us the credential of an originator. The problem is when we need to break with the past but are unaware or simply don't know how.
Some giant businesses were the big man on campus back in their day. Sears might have been the biggest. Talk about good looks and likeability. But today Sears is a shadow of its former self. What happened after graduation?
From a strategic standpoint, Sears failed to age gracefully. The "get it all here" approach was successful so long as boutique and specialty shops stayed at bay. But them Home Depot came and took their tools. Best Buy took their TVs. Bed Bath & Beyond came and took the softer side of Sears. And everyone else came and looted clothes, tires and financial services. Yes, if you didn't know, you used to be able to buy financial services at Sears.
What should have happened? Sears really has great customer service. If you haven't shopped there (and they still exist when you read this book) you should really go. The people are polite and know what they are talking about. The cornerstone brands (Die Hard, Kenmore, Craftsman) have really great quality. Sears really does provide a great shopping experience.
But they don't leverage that experience. They don't say, "Come to Sears because we know what we're selling and you will get great quality". They say what they have always said, which is, "We have a bunch of stuff...come buy it". Their failure, metaphorically, was not getting a new color shoe. What worked in the past was successful in the past. It is no longer the past.
So how does this happen? I believe it is simply a function of great strategies and their lifespan. I believe that when a truly great strategy is conceived, the proponents of this strategy go about selling it up and down the organization. If they are successful in getting buy-in and the whole company exudes the same strategy, assuming the strategy is good, I would expect wild success.
But then time happens. And though great strategies, like great styles, can have an inhuman lifespan, they are never immortal. The progenitors of the strategy retire to the palm coast. And everyone left has been taught that the way we succeed is by following Ol' Man So-n-So's time-tested and time-worn strategy.
The people now in charge do not necessarily attempt to birth new ideas. They were raised through the company ranks by following someone else's progeny. And if they disagreed or had critiques, they probably did not last to be in charge of much. I'm not saying this is always the case. I'm not saying this is the case with your company; that's a question only you can answer. What I'm saying is that maybe you should ask the question of whether or not you're wearing yesterday's clothes.
In other words: Have we evolved how we market our product in the right way or are we using yesterday's strategy to address the requirements of tomorrow's market?
This is normally the part where I list some bullet points or conversation starters, but that's not what I'm going to do. This kind of inquiry is far too complex and subjective for a few mere questions. Instead, I implore you to ask a few tough questions of your own with the goal being to understand the root of your company's competitive strategy. No matter what you find, I think you'll at least find value in having a better perspective of where you are now as an organization and where you are headed.
This is an important issue for most companies. The world of competitive marketing is changing. Strategies and tactics need updating. The way companies view and interact with consumers will always be changing. Time is running. And right now it might have on blue running shoes.
So I really had to search my mind for what I wanted this year. Though my wife Maura is an excellent gift buyer, even she was at a loss for what to get me. Since exercise had become our new thing, I started thinking of what could make the grind of 6 a.m. workouts just a bit easier. And then I realized there was something I had needed for a while: new running shoes.
In the past I would just go to the mall and pick out a pair in my old size. Now, however, I'm a bit pickier and slightly more accustomed to being handled, so we went to the New Balance store for a custom fit.
The guys in the store winced in pain when they saw my existing running shoes. They were a size tight and way too narrow. Having been a wrestler and a rock climber, I had always believed that shoes should be tight enough to break something. Think about it: when you are using your feet to pose on a rocky ledge or on the neck of some idiot from Norcross High, you don't want your feet to slip around inside the shoe.
The New Balance guy had me stand on a machine which measured my feet and made a recommendation. I was in no position to disagree with the shoe he suggested and the only real decision to make was the color. But this was harder than it sounds.
Throughout college, everyone wore grey New Balance running shoes (that is, when they weren't wearing their redneck work boots). And not necessarily for running. Just 'cause. And I'm not sure what the reasoning was. Perhaps because the grey 991s were amongst the more expensive shoes on the market and rich never goes out of style. Maybe it was because they were so understated, what with other manufacturers putting out shoes in electric blue with florescent mucous-colored accents. Even as I started to make the sounds of "Gggrrreee..." I stopped with an abrupt, "I'll take the blue ones". Maura asked me in the car why I choose blue over the old stalwart. "Because I don't want to be stuck in college". She knew exactly what I was saying, but the truth is we're all stuck in college.
Maybe not college per se, but there is a period in life where your sense of style begins to crystallize and you will use that point of reference to craft your style from there out. It's why my grandpa wears shirts with suspiciously large collars. He also wears velour jumpsuits. It's why you always see that group of people who look like they're dressed to go on a hike. That was the campus style in the early 1990s, and they've been on the trail wherever they go ever since. Your style gets locked in and, even though you may try to fight against it, it's difficult. And you may emerge looking a little odd. We've all seen that guy who tries to dress like a pro skateboarder or the mom who thinks she's a backup dancer for Britney Spears. It's just sad.
Why do we get locked in? It's comfortable, like grandpa's jumpsuit. And since our peers seem to be doing it we figure it can't be all that far from fashionable.
Businesses have their college years. They shed the old duds from high school and start looking fresh and successful. Like all of us, almost every business can point to that period known as "the days" and at least something from "the days" has persisted. And there's nothing wrong with remembering the past. Heck, sometimes our old style becomes retro fashionable, renewing our vitality while garnering us the credential of an originator. The problem is when we need to break with the past but are unaware or simply don't know how.
Some giant businesses were the big man on campus back in their day. Sears might have been the biggest. Talk about good looks and likeability. But today Sears is a shadow of its former self. What happened after graduation?
From a strategic standpoint, Sears failed to age gracefully. The "get it all here" approach was successful so long as boutique and specialty shops stayed at bay. But them Home Depot came and took their tools. Best Buy took their TVs. Bed Bath & Beyond came and took the softer side of Sears. And everyone else came and looted clothes, tires and financial services. Yes, if you didn't know, you used to be able to buy financial services at Sears.
What should have happened? Sears really has great customer service. If you haven't shopped there (and they still exist when you read this book) you should really go. The people are polite and know what they are talking about. The cornerstone brands (Die Hard, Kenmore, Craftsman) have really great quality. Sears really does provide a great shopping experience.
But they don't leverage that experience. They don't say, "Come to Sears because we know what we're selling and you will get great quality". They say what they have always said, which is, "We have a bunch of stuff...come buy it". Their failure, metaphorically, was not getting a new color shoe. What worked in the past was successful in the past. It is no longer the past.
So how does this happen? I believe it is simply a function of great strategies and their lifespan. I believe that when a truly great strategy is conceived, the proponents of this strategy go about selling it up and down the organization. If they are successful in getting buy-in and the whole company exudes the same strategy, assuming the strategy is good, I would expect wild success.
But then time happens. And though great strategies, like great styles, can have an inhuman lifespan, they are never immortal. The progenitors of the strategy retire to the palm coast. And everyone left has been taught that the way we succeed is by following Ol' Man So-n-So's time-tested and time-worn strategy.
The people now in charge do not necessarily attempt to birth new ideas. They were raised through the company ranks by following someone else's progeny. And if they disagreed or had critiques, they probably did not last to be in charge of much. I'm not saying this is always the case. I'm not saying this is the case with your company; that's a question only you can answer. What I'm saying is that maybe you should ask the question of whether or not you're wearing yesterday's clothes.
In other words: Have we evolved how we market our product in the right way or are we using yesterday's strategy to address the requirements of tomorrow's market?
This is normally the part where I list some bullet points or conversation starters, but that's not what I'm going to do. This kind of inquiry is far too complex and subjective for a few mere questions. Instead, I implore you to ask a few tough questions of your own with the goal being to understand the root of your company's competitive strategy. No matter what you find, I think you'll at least find value in having a better perspective of where you are now as an organization and where you are headed.
This is an important issue for most companies. The world of competitive marketing is changing. Strategies and tactics need updating. The way companies view and interact with consumers will always be changing. Time is running. And right now it might have on blue running shoes.
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