– At your service

Big budget, small budget? Bigger is better, I reckon. More of an opportunity to conjure a great idea – a strategy – rather than just price-tag tactics. Not that I don’t do that from time-to-time. You’ve got to be flexible, after all.

But promoting your services business on the basis of specialising in small budgets, as I see some businesses do, in my mind immediately divorces the engagement from any sort of breakthrough or fresh thinking.

Instead, you’ve gone straight to a conversation about tactics – “How much for a……?”

Granted, times are tougher and some budgets aren’t what they used to be.

However, if all you’re offering is commodity outputs there’ll never be unexpected outcomes.

– Why talk is not cheap

When things go wrong we tend to clam up and hope the drama passes without causing a storm.

But when you’ve invested time and money in creating a brand and relationships, dramas never go unnoticed. In fact, it is in these moments that people really start listening and looking for cues that show you for who you really are.

Messed up? Then fess up. If people important to you want to know, tell them. Get it out there. Do it quickly before speculation and doubt take hold.

Silence and evasiveness is the worst possible strategy. The void fills with the odious stench of deceit and audience doubt turns ugly.

Prompting this post is the smoke blowing around Tiger Woods. I don’t know the details – who does? But what are people starting to believe?

I was sent the following email – a spoof – which cleverly illustrates just how quickly the worm turns when you publicly fail the reputation acid test.

You want answers? How about a new golf shirt instead?

Recently I was involved in an incident that I don’t wish to speak of, particularly not to pedestrian flatfoots who think they’re entitled to see the inside of my house. This is a private matter, and just because it happened on a public street and I left shattered glass on the ground and a hint of scandal in the air doesn’t give anyone with a badge the right to conduct a routine investigation. I have a personal security staff to deal with things like this, the nature of which I’m not saying, and I don’t see what the law has to do with me anyway, since I live in a gated tax haven. How the police got past the guardhouse is something my people will be looking into.

Nevertheless, I understand the relentless curiosity about me, given my sacrosanct greatness and all I do for the good of humanity, and so I have decided to release a statement, on the advice of my agent, media consultant, personal blogger, sponsor liaison and attorneys. But rather than give this statement to the authorities, who somehow think they have real authority over me, I have decided to post it on my Web site, where the little men with badges can also find news, biographical info, statistics, audio and video clips, photos, and signature merchandise such as $75 drop needle polo shirts and washable wool sweater vests, as well as framed art, naturally of me.

Posting this statement is a grand concession, given my unique status, which let’s face it amounts to almost a kind of separate state power. That’s how different I am from the common people. I am really more like Cuba. Or the Vatican.

My advisers tell me that for the sake of my public image I have to say something modestly remorseful about this embarrassing matter, but I am under no obligation to say anything of substance. The fact that I have pocketed $1 billion for being a public figure, in prize checks, appearance fees and commercial endorsements, does not mean anyone, especially the police and the media, can ask perfectly reasonable questions that I have no intention of ever answering, since such disclosures would apparently reveal I am not entirely who I appear to be.

Let me pause to express my disapproval of the vicious rumor-mongers who continue to spread untruths, when no actual truth is being offered by me as an alternative. I don’t see why people won’t just accept my evasions at their word. Especially given my many good and charitable works, like keeping dangerous fish away from my yacht, “Privacy,” and smiling for TV cameras, and studying the word “disingenuous” so I will know it when I see it or hear it.

Cops — they’re just like photographers. People need to understand that I’m entitled to privacy at all times. Privacy is a commodity I own exclusively, and it’s mine to give up only under the right circumstances, in exchange for seven-figure checks. These people who think I’d give it up for free must be crazy. Of course, we’re not talking about the same police officers who provide security to keep those hounding autograph-seekers away. Or the photographers who spread the images of my perfect family with our newborns and dogs or document for the world my latest charity event. Those folks are just doing their jobs — jobs in which they essentially report to me.

Here is my statement: “I’m almost perfect. I only made one small mistake, ever. I will certainly make sure nothing like it happens again.”

Among the questions I will not be addressing, when I next appear in public, after my face heals:

Make sure what never happens again?

Why would someone need to smash the two back windows of an SUV with a golf club to get me out of the front seat?

Did the club break?

And most importantly, did Stevie keep everyone quiet during the backswing?

Would forensics detect any dental work on the clubface?

Can anything really “courageous” happen at place named Isleworth? (And by the way hasn’t anyone read the real estate brochure? What happens in Isleworth stays in Isleworth.)

How can anyone knock themselves unconscious in a slow-moving Cadillac Escalade?

What sort of business does an American nightclub hostess have in Melbourne, Australia?

Where would anybody be going at 2:30 a.m. after Thanksgiving? Perhaps to a Black Friday sale, the 4 a.m. special at Wal-Mart on big screen TVs, perfect to hand out to underprivileged children?

Is there a Wal-Mart at Isleworth?

As I say, don’t look to me for the replies to these inquiries, or any others, either. You want answers to questions? Read Andre Agassi’s autobiography.

– Just because your story isn’t newsworthy that doesn’t mean it’s not worth telling.

People important to you may still need to hear it.

Fortuitously, there have never been so many storytelling instruments.

Abundant, readily accessible channels <insert long list here> and other ‘interactive’ modes of self-promotion and expression give everyone the opportunity to show and tell.

But while saying something has never been easier, capturing the attention of people that matter has never been harder.

When the barriers to saying something have effectively been removed, everyone starts shouting and only the very good stuff rises above the din.

So, where to start?

You’ve got lots to say, but what do your customers really want to hear, when, and how?

Find a keen listener and get them talking to five or six key customers.

Capture an understanding of customer Moments of Truth – key instances in your customers’ lives where your performance – what you say and do – either brings them closer to you or sends them to the competition.

This is when your customers are looking to hear from you.

The best clues about what to say and do are in customer bad experiences.

More than just not repeating those sorts of mistakes, look for opportunities to astound.

– Social notworking

Who doesn’t accept invitations to connect to associates on LinkedIn? No harm.

But, what next? Has anything really changed?

– The barriers to noise making have disappeared

There’s always a stage available, free of charge, to put on a performance and make some noise. But in the rush for attention, many marketers have forsaken strategy.

They see more value in performing on as many stages as possible than showing up with a good story on just the right stage  – where customers are looking to hear from them.

The tools have certainly changed, but the same old world rules still apply to communication.

Where and when are people looking to hear from you?

What do you want them to believe?

What must you say to make them believe?

My advice is, before jumping in, first get inside your customers’ heads.

Ask them.

Their answers will help sharpen your messages and steer you to the right channels.

At the moment there’s insufficient asking and too much mindless chatter.

– What’s effective, what’s not?

I was recently asked what constitutes effective PR? It’s a fair question, but it took some answering. What example could I hold up and what might it look like? A bundle of positive news clippings? A torrent of gushing tweets? Favourable blog chatter? A voluminous leaflet drop?

Who knows, a case study of PR effectiveness might contain all these things. But it won’t answer the question. It’s easy to spotlight tactics, but how do they relate to strategy?

In my mind effective PR boils down to how well PR addressed the problem that got the PR agency through the door in the first place.

Just what problem was it designed to solve? Did it work?

In some cases assessment is obvious. For a pharmaceutical company the goal might be securing Pharmac funding for a new drug treatment. The only measure of effectiveness is funding.

In another health sector example, just look at the PR thrashing Lab Tests has recently suffered (I wonder if DML has PR people working in the background, fuelling the fires of discontent. Very effective).

I don’t think there is a blanket definition of effective PR, because, like any marketing communication, goals take many forms.

Broadly, you might take a snapshot of the bank of goodwill.

A bank balance of feelings held towards your brand.

Sometimes you mess up and a withdrawal is made.

So everyone needs to maintain a healthy balance.

In Lab Tests’ case I think they started at zero and have made massive withdrawals.

Luckily for them there’s no customer alternative (not yet, anyway) so just because goodwill has gone that won’t ruin the business - only the CEO’s career.

No straight answer.

But there’s no single problem.

– Why pay a copywriter when you can buy words for $2.50 a page?

A colleague of mine (a technologist who turns knobs up and down to trick people into visiting his clients’ websites) enjoys mocking creative services. The other day he sent me a link to an Indian company selling wordsmith ‘services’ for $2.50 a page. “There you go. You’ll be out of business when this catches on,” he gleefully predicted.

“You should try it,” I said. “I reckon five bucks will vastly improve your website.”

The flattened world and cheaper tools of the creative trades – cameras, graphic and web design packages, blogs and other publishing tools, music composition programmes, email marketing automation, so on and so forth – are, we’re told, threatening traditional service provision. Supplier pools are now ocean sized and do-it-yourself has never been easier.

But, like Lisa Simpson said: “Better technology doesn’t mean better storytelling.” The democratisation of tools hasn’t democratised skill. Little wonder Google is the world’s most valuable company when so much sifting is required to find the good stuff.

Most reasonable thinking people don’t want words by the page. They want to say something that arrests attention and gets people talking. They’re quite relaxed about word count. Probably why Nike paid many millions of dollars for three simple words all currently listed in the dictionary: Just do it.

Don’t buy the hype.

Pay for the good stuff.

- Everyday over 70,000 new blogs are created, so why add to the noise?

Clients frequently ask me if they should bother blogging. I hear their silent reservations: Just what’s the point adding to all the shouting? The last thing the world needs is another blog, I say.

Unless of course you’ve got something really bloody interesting to say and don’t think clumsy rehashing of other people’s work is good use of a blog.

In explaining my position on blogs I’ll use Talkies – a seller of PR services mostly to businesses that sell to other businesses (B2B).

In our case blogging does NOT:

- Directly generate new business

- Make the phone ring (when it does it’s usually people I’d rather not talk to)

- Grow a market profile

- Bring fame and riches

- Generate significant web traffic (about 200 visitors a month)

- Impress heaps of people (perhaps no one at all – the few Talkies visitors appear not to be big readers)

So why does Talkies bother blogging? Here’s what blogging DOES for Talkies

- Improves organic search rankings on specific business related search terms (like PR)

- Provides potential customers – people looking for services like ours – a taste of our thinking and style, so they can enquire, or not

- When people hear about Talkies the first place they look is online. (Not so long ago they might have reached for the Yellow Pages – are they still around?)

-  Thanks to frequent original posts Talkies is easily found on search engines (should typing www.talkies.co.nz into the address bar prove troublesome)

- Occasionally, news organisations and other writers point their readers to our content, amplifying Talkies messages, making us feel warm on the inside

- When markets, particularly professional services, are at parity, customers instinctively look for points of difference. A blog is a window into the soul (well, maybe the belly) of the personalities you’ll deal with. Could be a good thing or a bad thing. But at least you’re in the picture before wasting too much time.

There you go. Tell your friends, or not.

- Not just for lumberjacks

Tell me a fact and I’ll learn. Tell me a truth and I’ll believe. But tell me a story and it will live in my heart forever. A rare gem illuminating the power of communication, this Indian proverb has never rung truer.

In the mad scramble for free-form talking, most have forgotten to police themselves by first asking, just what have I got to say and how should I say it in a memorable way?

Instead, we’ve gotten straight down to work, firing ‘content’ into every crack within mouse-click. If Twitter’s 140-character limit is too restrictive then there’s always Woofer, which requires a minimum of 1,400 characters for each post.

What a treat when you find a great story. And so much the better when it’s product related.

Who’d have thought the business of making and selling axes was ripe for great storytelling. Makes me want to get one. The Best Made Company. Here’s their pitch: NOTHING WITHOUT AN AXE, followed by frequently axed questions. Brilliant.

Sure, it creates pretty high expectations. But you get the feeling these guys backup the bullshit.

You won’t find them on Twitter. In fact, I suspect they’re the strong silent type - shrewd thinkers who understand the power of a good story and take the time to get it just right before talking.

- Throw out your CV

Jobs are in short supply, under-used workers abound, and CVs slosh about the marketplace, the flotsam of a bashed up commercial era. CVs frequently wash up on my desk; and at various times I’m asked to appraise and tweak the CV handiwork of job aspirants.

However, despite the competition for employer attention, for some reason creativity goes out the window when job hunters construct their professional brands.

Through either laziness or suffocating conservatism, deviating from ‘accepted’ formats is unthinkable. So everyone looks and sounds the same, like widgets in a commodity market. Why would you expect your CV to rise to the top?

Same thing applies to business.

Years ago I worked in a junior marketing role in a large engineering company. A good company with many fine engineers, marketing was derided as the colouring-in department; an unnecessary overhead used only to take care of dirty jobs. Needless to say I didn’t last long.

Managers failed to grasp that doing great engineering work wasn’t enough, because their competitors did great work, too. They also used similar words and employed similar people with similar qualifications. The winning engineers arranged their capabilities and communicated them in terms best tuned to customer needs and emotions. The best marketing engineers won.

Back to CVs. In the early 90s, when unemployment was worse than it is today, I launched myself into the New Zealand job market. A recent graduate, I faced up to limited job opportunities and an abundance of applicants. I was told to do more study, like many job hunters are doing today. But I hated study and stuck to job hunting. While peers and competitors churned out form CVs, I did something completely different, presenting my credentials mocked up in a Time Magazine, using verve and unabashed self-promotion for which only a 20-year old can be forgiven. Despite unremarkable skills and qualifications I grabbed the unfair advantage, rising to the top of the heap. The calls came thick and fast, interviews followed and eventually a job.

Throw out your CV. And stop acting like (most) engineers.