RepMan

All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players

I was reminded of Shakespeare's classic words as I listened to an extraordinarily strong panel at yesterday's Ernst & Young's Strategic Growth Forum (note: we represent EY).

The panel was entitled, 'Navigating Through Challenge and Triumph: How top leaders do it.' The panelists were: Lynn Eisenhans, chairman, CEO and president of Sunoco, Margery Kraus, president and CEO of APCO (and incoming chair of the Council of PR Firms) and Shelly Lazarus, chairman, worldwide, Ogilvy & Mather.

The trio addressed a potpourri of topics, but the one that struck home was the discussion surrounding 'leader as actor.' Kraus and Lazarus, in particular, spoke about the need for leaders to consistently project positive verbal and non-verbal messages to their employees.

Kraus spoke about APCO's open-door policy and its importance to the firm's culture. One day, though, Kraus decided to keep her door closed for some time. When she finally opened it, there was a gaggle of employees milling about. The closed door had scared them and they were worried that something profoundly negative had just occurred. Instead, Kraus assured employees that the door had been closed only because she'd kept her windows open and was concerned her assistant would get chilly. Case closed. But, a classic example of the roles and responsibilities of leaders in times of crisis.

Far too many leaders hide behind closed doors. Far too many leaders wear their emotions on their sleeve. Far too many leaders over react to short-term setbacks instead of staying focused on long-term strategy.

Eisenhans, Kraus and Lazarus are classic examples of maintaining grace under pressure. In fact, their anecdotes and advice reminded me of another classic quote. This one is from Kipling: 'If you can keep your head when all those about you are losing theirs...then, my son, you'll be a man.'

Natural leaders instinctively know that a smile or an open door will send a critical signal anxious that employees desperately need to see.

We still have a long way to go before the economy bounces back. But, the better the CEO 'acts' and the more she or he keeps her/his head about them, the more reassured and productive the employees. And, the more productive the employees, the speedier the recovery.

Stickiness is so 1999

Remember what a big deal stickiness used to be? Dotcom executives loved using the word. First, they'd talk about eyeballs on their site. Then, they'd wax poetic about stickiness. 'Steve, guess how long the average visitor stays on www.fallenarches.com? Three minutes! That kills our competitors' numbers. Kills! Buries! Annihilates! We are so friggin' sticky!'

 When the dotcom bubble burst, it took those annoying executives and their eyeballs along for the ride. But, somehow the word stickiness survived.

In fact, stickiness is still considered by many as a key barometer in today's social media world.

Stickiness is used to describe the time a visitor spends on a website. Conventional wisdom holds that the stickier the site, the more enriching the end user experience (and the more successful the site).

Not so, says Sam Ford, Henry Jenkins and Joshua Green, who will join me for a webinar on the subject this Friday at 1p.m. EST (Register here for this free webinar, "Moving from "Sticky" to "Spreadable": The antidote to "Viral Marketing" and the Broadcast Mentality")

Messrs. Ford, Jenkins and Green are affiliated with M.I.T's highly-regarded Convergence Culture Consortium, whose mission is to provide some clarity and make some sense of the seismic digital changes happening all around us (note: Sam Ford also happens to be Peppercom's director of customer insights).

The trio believe web success is all about spreadability and not stickiness. Spreadability, they say, should be the watchword of the day. It's not about how long someone stays on a site but, rather, how they share (or spread) the information contained on it and with whom.

Spreadability is critical to success in social media. But, understanding how to create content that others will find spreadable isn't easy.

On Friday, Ford, Jenkins and Green will share best and worst practices, tips on how to create your own speadable content and explain why 'viral' may make sense in medical nomenclature, but shouldn't be included in your tech talk.

Just think: a Friday afternoon with Repman and three academics discussing spreadability on the web. Aside from another Phillies victory, what more could you possibly ask for?

Let's give it six months

We just marked Peppercom's 14th anniversary. We didn't do anything special to mark the occasion. In fact, we didn't even mention it on the firm's intranet or bring it up at our regular staff meeting. Fourteen is one of those in-between years.

I hadn't given the 14th anniversary much thought until I read Malcolm Gladwell's latest book, 'What the dog saw.' Truth be told, it isn't a book but, rather, a compilation of Gladwell's short stories and essays. Some are quite good. Some aren't. It's illuminating, but it's certainly no 'Outliers.'

One chapter, entitled 'Late bloomers,' got my attention. In it, Gladwell attempts to explain why Picasso was successful at an early age while Cezanne didn't break through until he was well into his 50s. The author cites numerous other dichotomies as well: Keats and Byron vs. Twain and Frost, for example.

Gladwell got me thinking. Why did Ed and I become successful? After all, when we started the firm, we didn't think Peppercom would last more than six months. So, I took a quick dive into my favorite subject: me.

I jumped off to early successes at St. Francis Grammar School, but hit a serious trough in high school. Northeastern set me straight and headed me in the right direction. But, I experienced a series of career ups and downs before running into Edward Aloysius Moed and launching Peppercom at the age of 41.

Did I finally succeed because I needed to experience failure first? Did Ed succeed earlier in life because he was Picasso to my Cezanne? It's scary to think of Ed as the Picasso of PR. Does that make Jerry Schwartz the van Gogh of our field? Is Richard Edelman the Brahms of public relations?

Defining how, why and when someone succeeds fascinates me. In 'Outliers,' Gladwell addresses what he calls the '10,000 hour rule' to explain how such disparate people and groups as Bill Gates, Steve Jobs and the Beatles succeeded so early in life.

Success means different things to different people. I'd be hard pressed to describe it myself. But, I'm flattered to think others believe I'm successful. More importantly, though, I'm grateful that writers like Gladwell can shed light on the subject.

You see, too many young people are too caught up with becoming a success by a certain age. The beauty of Gladwell's late bloomers chapter is its truth: lots of people find success late in life.

So, here's a note to students, interns, junior account executives and a certain master's student in history: be patient. If you're good and you're persistent and, like me, you're a little bit lucky, you WILL find success. Worst case scenario: you'll find your own version of Ed Moed. And, trust me, that's not all bad.

What works in Jacksonville may not in Jakarta

As if marketers don't have enough to worry about, a new blog series run by PepperDigital and Upstream Asia says successful social media campaigns need to resonate with the unique wants and needs of every culture and subculture around the world.

Bottom-line: a one size fits all strategy won't fly. The McDonald's online campaign that drives consumers to stores in Clarksville will probably be a turn-off in Copenhagen (although the Mickey D fish sticks will probably still be big sellers above the Arctic Circle).

The series tracks the rise of subcultures across the globe who, while they may be separated by several oceans, share a common affinity for, say, obscure Norwegian rock music. At the same time, though, those very same affinity groups will have wildly diverging tastes in other areas. So, while savvy marketers may be able to engage with a wide mix of, say, Vietnamese, American and Tanzanian fans of the Norwegian grunge band Lars and the Golden Geese, they need to tread lightly when introducing a second topic to the same group.

The same 'new norm' holds true within borders as well. The discussion that might build buzz in Paris’ fifth arrondissement could be found objectionable in Les cites of Marseilles.

It's a mixed-up world in which we live. This new series proves the old adage that marketers need to walk before they run, especially when it comes to engaging in social media. The land rush mentality to embrace social media we've seen by many U.S. organizations will fail miserably if they extend across borders without taking the time to stop and listen. Listening is, in fact, the single best piece of advice suggested by the series.

'Think global, act local,' is a smart admonition for any traditional marketer seeking to extend its brand beyond its borders. Based upon this new series, it holds doubly true for social media and should be extended to included subcultures and affinity groups.

In the pink

I just joined 175 other cyclists for the 220-mile Tour de Pink cancer charity ride. It was a great event for a critically important cause. I won't wax poetic about what it all meant to me but, to answer one person's question: 'Yes, it was worth all the pain and agony and, yes, I would do it again in a heartbeat.’ So, here are some random thoughts and shoutouts about my epic adventure:

- Helmets off to Matt Purdue (pictured here along with erstwhile Peppercommer Trish Taylor and me) for organizing the tour. This is the sixth year that riders have set out from Hershey, Pa., struggled to climb the heinous hills of Pennsylvania Dutch country and finish two-and-a-half days later in Bridgewater, NJ. Matt and his fellow organizers have raised $2 million for cancer research in the tour's six years.

- The survivors. There were about 40 survivors who rode alongside us on various stretches. Whenever my neck, back or legs hurt, I just had to glance at a survivor to suck it up and keep pedaling.

- Don Middleberg for donating $500 to support me. Don's always been a hero of mine (he created a great dotcom agency and chose the perfect timing in selling it). See you at the Kitano, Don.

- The friends, family and co-workers who pledged money. It all helps.

- The Mennonite school kids who would stop in the middle of their baseball game, step out of a 19th century-like existence and cheer us on (Trust me: it was like watching an episode of 'Little House on the Prairie').

- The Tour de Pink support crews. We had unbelievable support teams who carried our luggage, tuned our bikes and fed us along the way.

- Valley Forge National Park. I'd never seen it before. It looked cold and bleak in early October, so I can only imagine the wintery conditions of 1776-77.

- My trusty assistant, Dandy Stevenson, who made sure everything had been arranged in advance ('Not to worry,' the Tour de Pink people would say, 'Dandy took care of that for you').

- The other riders, who were incredibly supportive and only too happy to help with advice, suggestions, etc. The cry of 'car back!' is still ringing in my ears (That's a warning from the trailing rider that a car is rapidly approaching from the rear).

That's it. Check the Fox & Friends coverage and, if the spirit so moves you, donate a dollar or two to the cause.

Just declare it an open city like the French did with Paris

Throughout history, when faced by insurmountable odds, military leaders have often abandoned a key fort or city to a rapidly-approaching foe. The Russians did it with Moscow when Napoleon's Grand Armee was bearing down on their frozen capital. And, the French returned the favor in June of 1940 when the Nazis had overrun their country and were blitzkrieging their way towards Paris.

I mention these historical footnotes because I see parallels to an agency's being asked to defend an existing account. The September 14th issue of Advertising Age contains an interesting editorial urging clients to tell defending agencies the truth when putting an account up for review.

I'm not sure what specific event, or series of events, prompted the piece, but it's thoughtful and ends with the following admonition to clients: 'There is shame....in leading an agency along, watching it waste money and time in a futile effort, because you either don't yet know what you are looking for - in which case you shouldn't have called a review in the first place - or because you simply didn't have the guts to tell your current agency the truth.'

We've had some very bad experiences defending existing accounts. In almost every instance, the client assured us they were merely 'seeing what other resources might be available' and told us we had the inside edge as a result of our hands-on knowledge. Yet, we lost almost every review.

When clients put accounts up for review, they do so because they're unhappy with the status quo. Period. Defending an account seldom works and ends up hurting agency morale.

The far better approach is to take a page from the history books, declare the account an 'open city' like Moscow or Paris and allow the invading armies (or agencies, in this case) inside the walls.

Imagine what Roseann Phillips’s original investment would be worth today

Roseann Phillips died this morning at the age of 89. She was my mother-in-law. She was also a very special lady in lots of ways. And, along with my older brother, Russ, she was one of the two original investors in Peppercom.

To jump-start our nascent firm, Ed and I had asked various people for seed money. The only two who stepped forward to pony up cash were Roseann Phillips and Russ. Mrs. Phillips gave us $7,500. Russ forked over $5,000. We offered both equity in exchange, but both declined (a seemingly wise move at the time, since conventional wisdom holds that 90 percent of all small business fail within the first three years. And who wants to become ensnared in bankruptcy proceedings?).

Anyway, armed with the $12,500 cash infusion, we set out to conquer the world. Ed created the business infrastructure while I tried to generate some semblance of marketplace awareness. After 60 days of deafening silence, we signed our first client. And then another. Soon, we were in a position to pay back our investors. But, Roseann Phillips refused our money. I remember her saying our early success was the only return on investment that mattered to her.

Roseann Phillips did many things for many people. To an upstart start-up named Peppercom, her money was like manna from heaven. And, it’s not too far a stretch to say that, without Roseann and Russ, there would be no Peppercom today.

Considering the fact that we posted some $14 million in 2008 revenues and were willing to give Mrs. Phillips three percent equity in exchange, her original investment in ‘The Ed and Steve Company’ would be worth a pretty penny today. But, then again, that wouldn’t have mattered to Roseann Phillips. Seeing us racking up success after success was the only reward she sought.

Striking the right balance

According to The Wall Street Journal, President Barack Obama has become quite the micromanager. He sets daily Oval Office meetings with his various direct reports and wades through minutia that surprised more than one source quoted in the text. That worrisome to me.

I'm not a big fan of micro-managing. Many historians say micromanagement cost Jimmy Carter the presidency way back when. The man was so caught up in the details of a failing economy and the Iranian hostage crisis that he lost sight of the wants and needs of the average American. And that, in turn, enabled erstwhile and ersatz Hollywood actor Ronald Wilson Reagan to sweep into office.

I've worked for micro-managers. They drove me nuts. One, in particular, was so anal that he actually decided in advance who would sit where at client and new business meetings. He'd also insist we 'scope' out a prospect's conference room the night before a pitch so that we knew every angle and nuance of the facility. And, he once famously rejected an order of agency-branded pencils because the office manager had ordered 'number one' instead of 'number two' models. 'We've always been a number two pencil firm. Send these back!' he barked.

I've also worked for totally detached managers. One, in fact, was so out of touch with the day-to-day operations of his New York office that the place resembled a Felini movie, featuring everything from very public and very torrid affairs to brazen rifling of client products ('Ok, who took all the Tumi luggage from the product room last night?').

The office would also shut down early every Friday, with most of us trooping over to PJ Charlton's for an afternoon of Bahama Mamas and god knows what else.

In management, as in life, striking a balance is key. People need to feel empowered to make their own decisions. But, accountability has to be enforced as well. We like to believe we've built a meritocracy that encourages risk taking, rewards success and enables people to fail without serious consequence. That said, fail often enough or in a particularly egregious way and you're gone.

Ed and I have totally different management styles, but we'll both swoop into an account if, and when, our instincts (or our people) suggest we do. As a result, we don't get bogged down in minutia, nor do we allow the inmates to run the asylum (although some would suggest that Ed and I are recovering inmates).

I hope Obama doesn't become so obsessed with details that he loses touch with what really matters. We need him to succeed. And, by 'we,' I mean the entire world. I, for one, will really start to sweat if I read a follow-up Journal piece reporting the President is setting aside time to review White House stationery, logo designs and, god forbid, number two pencils.

The vagaries of business: 1995-2009

I had the opportunity to join a day-long meeting of PR agency executives last week. While a few were excelling, most were struggling in the current economy. Many, in fact, had taken Draconian cuts to assure their firms remained profitable. Others had re-assigned formerly billable staff to nearly full-time marketing and business development activities. It was grim, to say the least.

I hope these firms succeed in their prospecting, but making changes after the fact is akin to trying to run down the proverbial horse that's already bolted from the barn.

But, I digress. At the meeting, participants agreed that clients were not only inviting more firms than ever to pitch their business, but taking an inordinate time to make a decision. One statement in particular took me aback. An agency principal reported that his firm had won no fewer than three recent pieces of business only to be told the client budget no longer existed. Ouch! It's tough enough to chase down some of these leads. But, imagine receiving a call that begins with the prospect/client saying, 'Herbert, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like first?'

I went through the 'now you see it, now you don't' experience once before. It was back in those lazy, hazy, crazy days of dotcom-mania. We'd pitched a company, been awarded the business in the morning and then fired in the afternoon. Apparently, the CMO had neither the authority nor the budget to hire a firm. Nice.

Last week's therapy session also reminded me of Peppercom's first big setback. We'd been in business for about three months when I received a call from a guy with whom I'd once worked. He was now head of human resources at a global chemical company and had a mega budget for employee communications. 'Steve,' he said. 'I want you guys to overhaul everything. Soup to nuts. You give me the budget and I'll authorize the purchase orders. Oh, and we need to start yesterday.'

Talk about manna from heaven! We had one or two other small clients at the time but, in one fell swoop, this chemical company client was about to transform the fledgling Peppercom into a multi-million dollar agency.

Ed and I quickly crafted the program (with Ed gleefully whipping together massive budgets, btw). The two of us then barreled up Rt. 95 to Connecticut to present the plans and budget, and begin the work.

When we arrived at the reception desk and asked for the contact, however, we received a puzzled look. 'Why don't you take a seat?' suggested the receptionist.

About 20 minutes later, a woman came strolling out. She introduced herself as the new head of human resources and corporate communications, and sighed, 'Did no one contact you about John?' We shook our heads. 'Well,' she continued, 'John was fired last week. I saw your proposal and budgets and, frankly, have no interest in working with you. I'm sorry you had to come all this way.'

Boom. Easy come, easy go. Talk about a long, brutal ride back to Manhattan. The word 'funeral' came to mind. 

I was never able to track John down to find out what had happened. And, he never bothered calling me.

Ed and I overcame our shock and disbelief (as well as our intention to hire 10 people and move into new office space) and went back to cold calling new business prospects. (Footnote: a variation of this anecdote occurred many years later when a global CMO promised us a $10 million budget only to disappear a few months later).

Business always has its ups and downs, in good times and bad. While commiserating over one's bad luck can be cathartic, I've found the single biggest 'secret' to success is resiliency. When an ITT, Panasonic or a Unisys fires you, you pick yourself up, dust yourself off,  paste a smile on your face and charge ahead.

There will always be clients who spin your wheels and dangle assignments and budgets they have authority to award. And, every once in a while, there will be a prospect who disappears completely after promising a wealth of riches. The best remedy is to simply chalk it up to the vagaries of business: yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Being Steve Cody

Guest post by Laura Zanzal

When my alarm went off Thursday morning, I got up, started to get ready and then thought to myself, “Wait a minute!  I’m the CEO!” I was back in bed faster than you could say, “Laura Zanzal, managing partner and founder.”

To prep for my job role as Steve, I carefully packed my gym bag and studied options for my turkey burger.  All kidding aside, my day as Steve was informative and flew by. It was an eye opener to how demanding his schedule can be as well as how many impromptu, yet important, meetings Steve is expected to attend. Furthermore, it was interesting to see how “quick on your feet” and confident you have to be in this job role. In one particular meeting I sat in on, Steve was expected to work with a select few to come up with some humorous ideas for a client – in just a few hours. While I’m used to brainstorming and deadlines, I’m not in a position where I’ve ever had to think of an idea and run with it almost immediately. It was definitely interesting to watch ideas bounce off one another, with a more serious tone than what’s typically found in a brainstorm.

Being Steve though definitely had its perks. Between a spacious office with a—gasp—door to a personal assistant who happily called my roommate with Happy Hour specials, it was definitely comfortable and I look forward to these perks as my career progresses. As much as I hate to say it though, I did miss being in the trenches. I was disappointed that I didn’t know the “gossip in the cubes” and missed all the casual conversations through the cube walls. Once you are all alone in an office, it really makes you realize how fun your Peppercom family truly is.   

All in all, I think the job swap was an excellent idea. During my reign as Steve Cody, I found myself telling everyone about the swap – from friends and family, to even those employed at Steve’s gym. The common response, “Wow, your boss is really cool. I wish I could do that.” More companies should embrace the job swap, since it was a great learning experience for both myself and Steve, and I think both of us now have a greater appreciation for our jobs.