OF SWISS ARMY KNIVES ... AND US

Lately, our conversations have been filled with “whys,” not statements of facts or certainties.

One reason:  (Occasionally) unharnessed curiosity, which leads us to tons of questions, zip answers.  Another, we think, is due to a recent yearning for utility, for function, for concrete actions and behaviors.  Asking why gets us, eventually, to outcomes, to the goals our clients and our companies want to achieve. 

Which, in themselves, are usually aspirational, rather than realizational.  Yet the demands placed on each of us in our worlds, from branding and change to design and communications, are almost always for useful objectives.  Like these: 

“Get more of our targets to ‘like’ us.”

               “Create apps to drive purchases.”

          “Personalize the brand-consumer conversation.”

     “We must be able to measure an increase in engagement – and retention.”

It’s the behaviors that matter today – not only the ultimate buy, but also the universe of buy-ins. 

But will out doings activate useful results?  A few decades ago, former White House Press Secretary Marlin Fitzwater claimed, “The press briefing today I believe has lost much of its usefulness.”  [Sad:  Still true in 2013.]  How many employees understand what HR decisions, from benefits to performance, they need to make – and do so correctly, in their own interests?  Do our campaigns, internal and external, help our constituencies save time, deepen experiences, broaden connections, and/or provide more control?  Will we, in short, be measured against corporate dimensions of usefulness?

Dilbert creator Scott Adams summarizes our dilemma well:  “Be careful that what you write does not offend anybody or cause problems within the company.  The safest approach is to remove all useful information.”

THAT FUD FACTOR

Change management professionals know the acronym FUD well:  Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt.

Most of us, in fact, are familiar with apprehension; it faces us almost every day.  Are we doing what’s right for our clients/employers?  How will we know this strategy-tactic-technique will succeed?  What will happen if it flops?

Lately, we’ve been hearing more of this anxiety in our conversations, subtly, quietly, in a hard-to-detect undertone.  Often, it’s a premature prelude to recommendations:  “I’ve only got a few people to implement this, so it’s gotta be simple to do.  Otherwise, we won’t do it.”  Just as frequently, it’s accompanied by budget caveats:  “We’ve got X dollars.  We need to make this count!”

It’s all fear-propelled, deep down.  That emotion could come from an unsteady economy, working in a volatile industry, personal concerns, new management, and all of the above. 

Understandable … yet disconcerting:  As professionals accustomed to the slings and arrows of continual crises, ongoing changes, and never-ending accountabilities, that fear-of-failure gene doesn’t inhabit our minds naturally.  It takes a great deal of courage to convince a CEO of the importance of a media interview, present a completely different brand strategy, champion a new campaign, and tell clients that this particular change won’t be easy.  Taking risks, in many circumstances, is embedded in how we earn our livelihoods; we prepare, we benchmark, we consult, we execute, and we measure.

Look at it from the corporate point of view:  In times calling for growth and innovation, overcautious, even negative-thinking employees become a distraction, if not detraction.  How do you shake colleagues out of the NIH* or paralyzed mindsets into taking calculated risks and, yes, managing possible failures?  Sure, upper management and executives can and should set the stage, even broadcast the “it’s okay to fail” message.  Is that enough? 

History gives us cues – in the form of Thomas Edison, Donald Trump, Richard Branson, and Michael Jordan (among hundreds of others).  It’s up to us, as brand and design and marketing and communications bearers, to translate those hints into a “let’s go for it” encouragement, every day.

*Not Invented Here

MS. (MR.) OTIS REGRETS ...

Clichés aside, fired IRS Commissioner Steven Miller got our goat – or, more precisely, stuck in our craw.

Though he apologized for the mistakes made by others, he never admitted culpability or said “I’m sorry” for the Tea Party targeting.  You could say that Attitude is endemic among Washington’s elite.  Or that accountability simply isn’t a politician’s strong suit.

In our perspective?  Wrong-wrong-wrong.  Today, apologies and regrets have become a matter of fact, issued for actions as trivial as forgetting to put down the toilet seat (heard that one before?) or behaviors as egregious as lying and cheating.  Think:

• How often do you say “sorry” automatically for missing a meeting, forgetting to RSVP, or delivering a work product later than expected?
• What’s your tone of voice when you apologize?
• Why do you give your regrets … because it’s the right thing to do; someone’s expecting it; or, by saying it, you get what you want?

We could blame the Greeks for these wrongful apologies, since the word’s origin means “verbal defense.”  Often, when an “I’m sorry” is offered, it’s done more from a position of power and control.  Psychologists tell us that offenders do maintain their ego positions from an insincere sorry-sorry, even a non-apology. 

Which is the problem.  Apologies do carry an immense forgiveness factor, one that is immediately suspect when inauthenticity lurks.  That lack of genuineness in apologies might be attributed to our general 24/7 states of being, by the reign of non-accountability, or, simply, by no training in Manners 101.

How much easier to live in the 1930s, with a servant who expresses regrets for his mistress … in song.

A SIZE-ABLE FUTURE

Moving mile-plus-high cranes.  Construction activity in once-empty retail spaces.  Weekday and weekend walkers, cyclists, bus riders meandering and moving on city streets.  Announcements of corporate moves and high-profile doings, downtown.

Sure, all the signs of a reviving economy are apparent.  But there’s more than just good news to celebrate.

What futurists now forecast is a return to the city, big time, with mega-cities, mega-regions, and mega-corridors worldwide expected in the 2020s [mega meaning a start point of 15 million people].  Heck, the megas are here today … especially if you’ve been to China with its 160+ cities of one-plus million in residents. 

We know that jobs, income, retail sales, residential property values are first indicators; following up those signs are infrastructure improvements, transportation upgrades, educational reform, and smart-everything helping us calendarize our lives (among others).  Much is geared to smaller spaces, micro-services within macro-formats.  A Target could feature multiple mini-stores, some branded by manufacturer, some content oriented, still others guiding consumers through smart phone geo-locators.  Micro-loans invented by the Grameen Bank become S.O.P.  Commuters could, with appropriate transit alternatives, live in Hartford and work in D.C., work in London and live in Paris.  And already do.

It’s living life large – in all its senses.  At the same time, urbanization is a trend that concerns, especially in our lines of business.  Reaching the right people, inside and outside business, requires even more delicate messaging and maneuvers.  Mobile won’t always be the answer.  Getting the right spaces to think and to work demands some creative applications – and employers who’ll be copacetic with employees who won’t inhabit desks every day.  Design that doesn’t blend into its environment, but doesn’t shriek “look at me.”

On the other hand, we’re confirmed urbanites.  Crowds don’t faze us.  An ever-growing wealth of options – in culture, lifestyle, entertainment, work – is always welcome.  But when you communicate, do make it about me, not the mega-mes.

GOOD ENOUGH: Is it, er, good enough?

While reading (belatedly) an interview with Larry Light, the then-new chief brands officer at Intercontinental Hotels, we braked hard at this sentence:  “Doing fine is not fine.”  [That quote, from Light’s CEO, segued into how this well-known marketer is upgrading and revamping/realigning the brand.]

Which got us to musing:  How many of us would actually say that … and mean it?

It’s one thing to spout the multiple mantras of continuous improvement, urgency, and burning platforms, phrases often associated with the change world.  It’s another to express discontent with reality – even though it might look pretty good to outside (and inside) observers – and begin making shifts.

Many change masters insist on building a compelling case for making things happen.  They talk to the critical needs of appealing to both hearts and minds, emotions and facts.  News of change on the way ricochets through the halls and plant floors, along with the names and accountabilities of task forces.  Implementation begins, goes onward, then is completed.  Now what?

Those who measure ROIs (and non-successes) of those efforts tell us that a majority never quite meet the assigned metrics.  Our burning question:  Was this a dramatic change, positioned as an “either/or”?  Or are employees and executives rewarded for following the dictates of Lean Manufacturing, Six Sigma, and other methodologies continually, rather than all at once?  Will those two very different situations differ in results delivered?

There’s no answer, yet.  The next time someone comments that “whatever” is pretty good or good enough, we’d suggest a sharp self-scrutiny is in order.