Corporateinklings

If You Think You Can’t Control Online Conversations, Read This

2010-02-08T12:38:22-05:00

Friday I got an invitation from Digg, the online community for finding and sharing content, to submit questions to the president and CEO of Toyota USA, who will answer the Digg community’s top questions in a live Digg Dialogg on Feb 8.

In less than 2 hours, 375+ questions had been submitted. And there 2.5 more days left for the Digg community to post questions. At last look there were 1,000 questions and some of those were “dug” more than 100 times.

At first glance, it seems bold and brave. And when you contrast it with media coverage positioning the leadership as ducking the conversation, it is pure genius. Go straight to the public and be seen as an innovator, a listener and an organization that truly wants to set the record straight on the issues.

Anyone with a question will – in theory – be heard. Toyota’s crisis comms team gets to cull the questions, package the responses and make everyone feel like they’ve been listened to and gotten a response – from the CEO, no less, not a “company spokesperson.”

No one will go back and read all the questions and comments (some quite nasty and personal). But they will remember the live conversation with the U.S. CEO and how deftly he handled even the thorniest questions about safety and what Toyota plans to do about the issues.

It’s only one example. I’m betting though that if it works for Toyota we’ll see a lot more companies controlling the most difficult conversations by using social media channels to engage stakeholders – on their terms. If Toyota is embracing social media channels when the conversation is really hard, what’s holding you back from getting into the mix?

By Susan Bassett

When the Supreme Court Changes the Rules of Grammar….

2010-02-05T16:57:34-05:00

It’s been a sad week in the land of grammarians – what with the Supreme Court’s decision to grant corporations the right to free speech.

Now that companies are humans (I’m pretty sure the U.S. Constitution still starts with “We the People of the United States…”) I’m throwing the towel on a long-fought and clearly failed battle: to singlehandedly eliminate all references to companies as “they” or “theirs” in news releases, bylined articles, marketing copy, white papers, etc., etc., etc.

Do you think the grammatical impact of what they were deciding ever even crossed their minds?

So, while the pundits are debating the decision’s impact on campaign finance, I’m tearfully throwing my trusty 5^th-grade English book (yes, I still use it – especially when stymied by the difference between “effect” and “affect”) in the recycling bin. Maybe I should really join the movement and start using what LOL, TTYL, BFF and all those other abbreviations on my iPhone and other communications.

Or maybe I’ll began a new war – one on eliminating the trend toward hyphenating phrases when the modifier ends in “–ly”. Maybe I’ll tackle something really tough, like ending the use of the word “impactful” or “orientate”.

How about you? Is there one “tried and true” grammar bugaboo that makes you cringe or reach for the biggest, fattest, darkest red pen you can find? Or do you text?

By Susan Bassett

Why I Pay Money to Leave My Business Once a Month

2010-01-27T13:31:10-05:00

It’s so easy to get stuck in the muck. Email is too easy to blame; there’s so many sources of drama and distraction in running a business. And then, of course, it’s so much easier to do what needs to be done, right now. Emergencies can be their own energy.

Which is why getting out is more important, sometimes, than coming to work. Because working in the business is a far cry from working on the business. And when you’re in the middle of it all, there’s absolutely no imperative to get any distance.

Twelve years ago, I joined a fledgling group of CEOs, who promised to show up once a month, for four hours that ended up keeping honest, accountable for the things I said were important. Just having the deadline to report on what I’ve achieved, what’s still dragging on, enforces a certain kind of internal honesty.

So I joined a new group. My expectations were pretty low – I just hoped the group would be solid, with people I can learn from. And as a newcomer, you give, you don’t ask.

Wrong again. Out of the blue, my seatmate talks about how she changed her business. One of the biggest: She leaves the office two days a week. What does she do? She talks. She reads. She meets with people. She thinks.

So now I have a new resolution for this year. Actually, it’s my only resolution. I’ll be glad to aim for one day out of the office talking, meeting and thinking a week. I’ll certainly find more time for social media, but meeting in person is even better.

I’ll report back in 90 days.

- By Amy Bermar

You Quit?

2010-01-19T11:26:53-05:00

Picture this: Your firm gets acquired. You have 5 days to sign a non-compete. And you don’t want to work at the acquirer. So what do you do? How much will this risk cost you?

A few weeks ago, an industry colleague had that dilemma, wondering if she should finally quit it all, and fly solo. The risks were very real: Lack of critical mass, skittish corporate budgets that may not have room for newcomers, and the fear that her social clout might not carry her far enough to sustain a new business in what is still an extremely challenging market.

What’s fascinating, and encouraging, is that she knew what she wanted, and refused to sign the non-compete, and said goodbye, even before she had a game plan. These see-you-later departures were commonplace a decade ago, but in this new world of 10% unemployment and unwanted career downshifting, it’s become rare indeed. This weekend, she phoned to say she was joining another outfit, one with a strong reputation for quality, innovation and its team.

Starting a company, or even flying solo, isn’t for everyone. But the fact that she made the leap away from the known (no job is ever really ‘safe’) – to a smaller, possibly smarter company, is good news. Because everything we do is an example for someone, and this one says that even in times of uncertainty, change can be the best thing.

- By Amy Bermar

Launching a New Product

2010-01-15T10:00:00-05:00

A young friend is launching a new product. Props to him – 27 years old, just back from the Peace Corps, and convinced that his invention is what the world needs, recession be damned. He’s selling dreams in a jar – in this case, physical fitness, in the form of exercise bands – those rubber straps you wrap around your ankles, wrists, whatever, for tension and traction that make your muscles scream. They’re low-cost, low-impact, and, truth be told, are everywhere, including at your local gym.

So there he is, ready to launch. Video on YouTube, web site up, and wondering how to reach the world. His marketing budget: Close to zero. What’s a young mogul gonna do?

Believe it or not, he’s going retail. For $500 a month, he’s got a kiosk in a local mall.

He, of course, wants to go national, pronto. “How do I get national exposure?” And as a former college basketball A-team player, he thinks most people want to exercise. Wrong.

My guess: Most people still don’t know what a band is, or how to use it. Or want to. My young friend’s challenge is one that budding entrepreneurs and jaded executives alike face: how do I make my product relevant – and compelling – to the customer.

So this mall gig is brilliant. For $15 a day, this budding CEO can do live market research, one person at a time. Listen, and learn. In 30 days, he’ll know a lot more. The key, of course, is to ask, not sell. My bet is he’ll hear all the reasons why exercising isn’t for the masses – too busy, too boring, too many other things to enjoy….and with that intelligence he can find new and exciting ways to market his dream that tap directly in to those emotions and destroy the intimidation factor.

He only has to sell one a day to cover the rent – and that leaves a lot of for listening.

- By Amy Bermar

Why We’re Signing off Email

2010-01-13T09:35:26-05:00

We pulled the plug. Starting last week, in fact.

Every Wednesday, from 1-5, there’s no email at Corporate Ink. Why? Because email is overwhelming. Distracting. And the best excuse going for not doing the hard work of thinking, talking, reading, creating and sometimes, just writing.

One of our internal thinkers came up with the idea in the gloom of shorter days, to ‘voluntarily’ sign up for what we don’t seem to be able to do on our own. We hurtle from inboxes to Twitter, and wonder why we feel overwhelmed by the incoming. Why we never have enough time to do the things we say we want to do, and that we know our clients count on us to do.

We’re not sending emails to each other, and not sneaking peaks at our inboxes, or Blackberries. It’s a brief time-out from the constant need to check in. Even I’ll admit that most of what’s so urgent can actually wait, minutes, even hours. Most companies move slower than we do. And the world in general, and ours in particular, desperately needs more time for thinking, learning, and making the creative space to come up with new ideas.

Week 1 passed with no drama. Week 2 is today.

- By Amy Bermar

5 Reasons Why I Don’t Want a Smartphone

2010-01-11T17:26:22-05:00

I don’t want a smartphone. Really! Apparently I’m in the minority. Everyone’s skeptical: “Oh, but it’s SO useful…”

What happened to listening? Engaging? With the digital universe at your fingertips, interpersonal communication tends to take a backseat. And the conversation gets cut short.

So here are five reasons why smartphones aren’t all that.

People still answer the phone. So just call. (Tip: Text GOOGL [36645] for info. E.g.“South Station, Boston MA” yields an instant reply, with the number.)
Not everything requires a real-time answer. If someone wonders how warm it is San Diego, no need to whip out an iPhone to learn it was 70°F.
It feeds an addiction. With 24-hour Internet access in my purse, I’d become a monster. Or at least nobody you’d want to hang out with.
They’re not pretty. Sleek, maybe. But my pink LG is so much cuter.
It’s still a game of catch-up. Surprisingly many sites, apps, and programs aren’t mobile-compatible. They look wonky in a BlackBerry’s tiny screen. While vendors fix this, who wouldn’t prefer a 21-inch monitor?

No offense to the smartphone-addicts. There are probably dozens of reasons why it makes way more sense than toting a laptop everywhere. Especially if the alternative is 1,456,849 “urgent” emails waiting.

But don’t pity the rest of us – we’re doing just fine.

- By Rachel Round

Big News Out of Boston

2009-12-08T17:30:57-05:00

One of our long-standing clients, Guardium, was just bought by IBM. It’s every company’s dream…but few succeed. Of course – when you’ve got the best-and-brightest on your executive team, killer technology that competitors can’t come close to, and more blue chip customers than some of the blue chips out there – what’s not to like? If you ask me, IBM scored.

I’d like to say I was surprised by Monday’s announcement – but the news was leaked the week before, showing up just about everywhere before it was “official”. (Anyone who thinks PR is an easy job should ask IBM’s corporate communications team.)

As PR professionals, a successful acquisition is the “happy ending” we all work so hard to achieve. But when the big day comes, it’s always bittersweet.

Often, it marks the end of an era. One that began four years ago with a small, venture-backed company vying for a top spot in an early-stage market – and ended with one of the year’s most successful exits.

If all goes well, Guardium will continue to expand and thrive under Big Blue’s umbrella. And if all goes really, really well – we’ll continue to drive visibility for Guardium (like we’ve done for other acquired companies, like VeriSign’s iDefense).

Big kudos to the Guardium team. It’s been an awesome run. And the lessons we’ve learned along the way have us chompin’ at the bit to help do it again.

- By Corinne Federici

Local court clerk steals $2 million in cash

2009-12-04T11:09:39-05:00

So that’s today’s story in the Boston Globe – with more questions than answers. First, it seems the clerk, 38-year-old Marie Morey, has worked there since 1990, more than half her life, though ‘they’ are saying that the theft began just three years ago. Once it began, though, it was good pickings: some $2 million in 1,000 days – nearly 30 percent of her department’s entire $2.4 million annual budget.

So now, does the cover-up begin? And who’s really to blame?

For starters, the sudden 3-year window seems a little too pat, a little too convenient. Right alongside the court’s shocked claims that her scheme was exceptionally sophisticated – presumably letting the authorities comfortably off-the-hook for letting it run undetected for three years.

So what did she do that was so mysterious? Pocket cash payments. Falsify bank records. Adjust internal accounting records. And have the good fortune of being the only one authorized to change entries in the bank’s accounting system.

What amazes me is how she managed to get away with it for three years. Her boss, now retired, declined to comment. Was he in on it? Or just happy he had one less thing to worry about in his final years on the clock?

We work with a lot of security companies, and know how easy it is to pilfer even secure companies’ systems. One company we talk with, Memento Security, actually specializes in preventing bank fraud, and has written a pretty nifty book on the topic.

As for Marie? She declared bankruptcy in 2000, lived modestly, and supports her two children. The neighbors, of course, never suspected a thing.

Which gets back to good old management. Trust. Delegate. And verify.

Media note: Reporters at the New York Times are saying ‘small’ fraud doesn’t count after Bernie Madoff. My bet is that $2 million in cash is still a lot of money to most people. Especially if she pocketed the fine you paid in cash.

- By Amy Bermar

Teaching Yoga

2009-11-24T11:06:10-05:00

Why it’s so important to do things you’ve never done before:

I decided to take a part-time job. Not exactly a job. More of a passion, and a little bit of a test, of myself.

I started teaching yoga, mostly because I said I would, and perhaps, to prove something to myself, after a 24-day yoga training intensive, which also was my sabbatical. It was easy to be a student, but as a teacher, I was a raw newbie, filled with the nerves and inevitable mistakes that novices make.

It’s been a once-a-week gig for about a year now, at my local Y, which I happen to think is one of the best institutions going. It’s open, it’s accessible, and it’s about a broad a cross-section of a city as you’ll find; at the same time, this means I never know who will show up. In my first few months, one student told me he’d just had a double-bypass surgery the year before; another woman had had a significant accident, and couldn’t stand for very long. I didn’t remember everyone’s names, or how to help them heal their injuries; though at least I knew how not make them worse. Quite honestly, I was over my head. Yet they swam along with me, even as I mixed up directions to move to their right leg, when I really meant their left.

It’s been a humbling experience. As the week winds down, I rush out on Friday afternoon, shedding one role for this other one, where rapid decision-making and analysis doesn’t count for much. When the room is 85 degrees; emotional openness does, along with learning how to encourage people to feel successful even when they’re barely able to bend into a pose, or touch their back, much less clasp their arms behind them. The sweetest moment is when people go upside down; everyone always thinks they can’t do it, and of course, they can.

This last week, I had 9 students, three of whom had never set foot in a yoga class before. One made me concerned. He was older, overweight, not used to moving his body, and half-way through the class, was working so hard his legs were shaking, even though I encouraged easier options. Still, I couldn’t easily help him do one thing while the class did another, because I am, in effect, still a beginner myself.

I’ve never been a big fan of the philosophical readings or inspiration that some yoga teachers like to share at the end of every class. This time, though, it was clear to me that these three gave at least as much as they received, because just by walking into that room, they defied the self-imposed ‘nos’ that keep us in place, doing the same things over and over, and avoiding what’s new – to not take risks, not expose ourselves, not try for fear of failing.

There’s a phrase for it: the beginner’s mind.

- By Amy Bermar