Trolley collectors of the world unite!

It’s a classic case of ‘David versus Goliath’ – in one corner, Coles – one of Australia’s biggest supermarket chains; in the other, the often overlooked men and women who collect their trolleys. You can read more here.

In summary, the giant was slain (okay, I’m going too far with the metaphor); in fact, the supermarket was penalised by the Fair Work Ombudsman (FWO) for the “gross underpayment” of these workers. I chose that last word – ‘workers’ - carefully, as it goes to the heart of the matter. Essentially, the Coles defence rested on the idea that the trolley collectors were contractors and not direct employees. So, they could – in the words of the FWO’s Natalie James – “wipe [their] hands of the problem.” Not so; Ms James was unequivocal in her agency’s appetite to address big business’ exploitation of workers. Her words – “we will look up to the business at the top” – will leave corporate boardrooms with no doubt where the responsibility for such elaborate supply chains lie.

The episode is also a notable case of issue mismanagement; to clarify, issues are those situations which if left unattended have the potential to significantly affect a business – I would suggest that workers underpaid to the tune of six-figure sums is significant. In fairness, it has to be said that Coles has back-paid the workers in question and established a $500,000 fund for others who could also have been affected. 

However, the developments clearly illustrate the seemingly unrelated nature of issues – in that they are not related to us, so we don’t need to worry about them. This is an important point as it should challenge the commonly held mindset among senior teams that reputation management is exclusively about what we as a business do – our people, our products, our prices. Yet, the people who also carry out duties under our name as third parties are rashly overlooked. It’s a point that was writ large following the BP response to the blowout on the Transocean owned Deepwater Horizon and should have been enshrined across the collective executive, but it would appear that memories are short and to that end, reminders will continue to be painful. 

The London Whale Never Stood a Chance

The London Whale has spoken. More specifically, Bruno Iksil, the trader behind the wonderfully evocative nickname and the man at the centre of the JPMorgan Chase multibillion-dollar trading loss in 2012 has broken his silence about the whole affair - you can read more here.

In a comprehensive three page letter sent to the media, Mr Iksil sets out his side of the story and in doing so, points squarely to the door of his former employer as the engineers of the whole debacle. The trader writes that he was made a scapegoat for trades that were “initiated, approved, mandated and monitored” by senior management. JPMorgan Chase, have (at time of publication) made no comment, I hasten to add.

Mr Iksil goes on to say that the losses “were not the actions of one person acting in an unauthorised manner [and] for no good reason, I was singled out by the media.” Now, despite the losses, Mr Iksil is it’s assumed a very smart man to have made it to such rarefied heights in one of the biggest banks in the world. He clearly knows far more about banking than I do, but it’s apparent that he doesn’t know much about the media. Let me, pass Mr Iksil’s comments by you again – “for no good reason, I was singled out by the media”. Mr Iksil, you were always going to be singled out thanks to that nickname - the London Whale. It’s a label which, unsurprisingly, the trader resents and apparently borne of the size of the bank’s bets in corporate-debt markets. But that doesn’t matter; the media had their man. Trading is a complicated business, which leaves most audiences cold – you try explaining derivatives and credit-swap indexes over breakfast (or any other meal).

Quite simply, the media thrives on conflict, which results in victims, and with victims come villains. This is not to judge Mr Iksil, but to illustrate the point. The global financial crisis had shown that there was something rotten in the state of banking and to that end, those deemed culpable needed to be held up by the media.

The ‘London Whale’ hints at a corpulent, greedy culture which so resonates with the public when it comes to perceptions of the banking industry – the GFC’s Mr Creosote (see Monty Python), if you will. The name gave the media a face and personality (albeit wrong), which is a damn sight easier to engage with than corporate-bond defaults. So, you see Mr Iksil, singling you out may not have been fair, but it was always going to happen.

 

Framing Hillary Clinton

The results from the first US presidential nomination vote in Iowa were always going to be interesting, because it’s a largely entertaining group of runners who have made it to the starting line. Was the momentum built by Donald Trump going to continue, despite labelling the Iowans, “stupid” earlier in the campaign? What of freshman senator, Ted Cruz, and would the wheels of the Clinton juggernaut rock, or roll?

Now we know – a good night was had by Cruz, Marco Rubio and the veteran, Bernie Sanders, while it was a case of ‘could do better’ for the more prominent Trump and Clinton. Or was it? While, Trump’s underachievement is uncontested, other outcomes are far greyer when presented by the media. Specifically, how did Senator Clinton get on? In terms of the numbers, she shaded it from Sanders by .3 of a percentage point; that’s 49.9% versus 49.6%. She “struggled” according to the Australian Financial Review; she was “unnerved” in the Sydney Morning Herald and won on the “toss of a coin” in the UK’s Daily Telegraph.

However, the Clinton bandwagon knows politics to be a long and expensive game; crucially, it also knows the media very well and how it operates. More accurately, it knows how to frame the story. I allude to the concept of framing, which when applied to the media is primarily concerned with news outlets and how they give meaning to events is determined by the prominence they give to some aspects of the story over others. The Clinton clan is also acutely aware of the power of the image; ergo, pictures of a euphoric Hillary, Bill and Chelsea – this is the jubilation nation. Gone are the struggles and nerves; these are pictures that tell a different story – this is juggernaut unstoppable and these people are one thing, winners and we should all join in to feel the same way.

I’ve cited Gavin Esler’s ‘Lessons from the Top’ in this blog before and I do so again in relaying the story of television reporter Lesley Stahl, who looked to highlight Ronald Reagan’s “hypocrisy” in regards to public health schemes. Stahl used footage of Reagan visiting a nursing home to report the fact that the President opposed funding for such places. Following the broadcast, a White House aide called Stahl to say that they had “loved the piece”. Stahl had wondered if they had heard the piece correctly. The aide replied that they had heard every word, but that “nobody heard you”.  Fundamentally, the images of a doting Reagan with society’s marginalised far outshouted Stahl’s words. Hillary and the rest of the regiment know quite clearly that seeing is believing.

 

Death of a Spokesman?

Edelman has just published the latest findings from its ever-compelling Trust Barometer. The survey gauges public trust across a range of institutions, including governments, the media, NGOs and business. We always find it a great read and they generate a truck-load of coverage.

In keeping with the rest of agency-land, the ‘Employee Advocacy’ theme was writ large, and unsurprisingly, employees – that’s your ‘Ordinary Joes’ for want of a better form of words – were deemed incredibly trustworthy figures in regards to sharing company news. No real revelation here, in view of the fact that such people are unencumbered by the corporate baggage which thwarts more senior personnel from giving a relatively straightforward answer to a straightforward question. However, it’s a point that must not be overlooked, or denied by management teams; especially on noting that employees are the most trusted sources of information when it comes to “crisis handling”, “financial and operational performance” and “employee treatment”.  For far too many organisations, internal communications is a top-down process, which leaves the rank-and-file at best, indifferent and at worst, suspicious. As we’ve always counselled at CRP, employees need to be at the forefront of any organisational communications if management stand any chance of being heard.

What we found particularly interesting though was the plight of the official “media spokesperson”. To be precise, the company spokesman now ranks lower in terms of trust than ­all other stakeholders, including “activist consumers” and “academics” – essentially, the general public would trust outsiders more to give them accurate news about an organisation than the man, or woman on the inside who’s been tasked to tell them what’s happening. This, naturally, throws up some interesting questions – what, for instance, does that mean for media trainers, who pride themselves on developing polished corporate messengers? What of the individuals who are asked to play such roles – will they now think twice about the exposure to their own reputations? Do the findings signal the death knell of the official spokesperson? We find that unlikely, but what of the title – doesn’t the notion of spokesperson feel a little too regimented in the new, (flat) world order? As ever, we welcome your comments. 

It's freezing at Barclays

There will, I assume, be little sympathy in the news that the tough times continue for Barclays, as CEO, Jes Staley announced an “indefinite hiring freeze” this week.

A previous freeze, in place since September, had been due to be reviewed in the New Year, but Staley is adamant that the ban will be in place “for a long time.”

This is great soundbite policy. I am not questioning Mr Staley’s honesty, or his bank’s - the intentions are, undoubtedly, true. However, such grand gestures are invariably, unworkable. How do you police the specific resource demands of a range of departments, some of which will be growing quicker than others? Departments are managed by different people who will exercise a different interpretation of the policy and who will have varying degrees of influence with their HR peers.

Such top-down edicts are prone to inconsistency, which leads to frustration and anger among permanent team members. I have yet to see a business manage this situation effectively.

My main point, however, is less to do with the management of such rulings, but about the messages that underpin these measures. Specifically, employees need to know that such a freeze is worth it – that it’s part of a bigger plan to propel them to a future that is brighter than the current picture. To that end, it’s a leader’s role to visualise that future for their staff.

A vision is needed to maintain morale among existing employees and to ensure the business continues to attract the best in terms of would-be employees. Ultimately, the process of organisational change stands a better chance of succeeding if you can ‘make a compelling case for why?’ and as seasoned corporate watchers know, cost-cutting rarely makes for a compelling case. Now is not the time for the blinkers; the situation calls for confidence and inspiration.

Barclays has been around for long enough to handle such change; it has done it before and is led by some smart people, but they should avoid looking to the past to ensure a more meaningful future for its people.

The value of corporate heresy

International law firm, Slater & Gordon had a particularly painful reminder of the wide-reaching effects of ‘what if’ scenarios last week, when UK Chancellor, George Osborne announced an increase in the small-claims limit and the removal of the ability to claim for general damages from minor whiplash injuries. The firm’s stock price fell 68 percentage points to a low of 69 cents, which is a veritable plunge, from the highs of $8 a share in April this year – that’s $2.5 billion in share market value wiped away.

I can’t go into the details of the case, as I haven’t got them. The episode does, however, highlight the criticality of scenario planning for businesses to best identify and resolve the threats that could damage operations.

Most discerning organisations – and I include Slater & Gordon here – would undoubtedly have a risk register, which tracks the course of such threats, but the register is only as good as the threats that have been identified, which are usually borne of internal perspectives – that is, current employees. This is not wrong, but I would counsel organisations to have a heretic to hand. That’s right, the individual in the room who goes that bit further in terms of identifying nightmare situations. Such bravado is usually found outside of the business, as external advisors aren’t encumbered by the emotional baggage that hangs round the necks of most salaried employees – loyalty being one. Granted, such advisors don’t have the insights in regards to brand heritage or corporate politics, but these are gaps that can be addressed.

Scenario planning sessions are, if done properly, heresy writ large. Threats are duly recognised and tracked to gauge their impact from a range of perspectives – brand, political, financial, community and personal. In fact, it’s vital that the session gets personal as that’s what stakeholders – primarily, the media, are looking for if anything was to go wrong. In short, they need somebody to denounce. So, let us speak the unspeakable and save ourselves from the blame game. 

Managing Barack Obama and other stakeholders

President Obama has, it’s been reported, chided Australian PM, Malcolm Turnbull for not keeping him “in the loop” after learning that a Chinese company had leased the Port of Darwin after reading about it in The New York Times.

“Let us know next time” said the President to the Prime Minister. The episode illustrates the significance of appropriate stakeholder management. Granted, the matter was a relatively minor one in world leadership terms, but the audience – the President – is a hugely influential one. Pardon the plug, but we specialise in handling such relationships effectively at CRP, and as we tell clients, the more important the stakeholder, the more frequent the communication.

Managing stakeholders properly is the mark of a well-intentioned organisation. That is, organisations which are driven solely by profit tend to give this part of corporate relations too little attention (if any at all). More than that, however, engagement with stakeholders is valuable – in terms of strategic impact, the bottom line and team morale. Much has been done on this, but Nadine Hack’s thoughts, which you can find here are particularly good.

Stakeholders need attention; their place in the organisation’s pecking-order will dictate how much to give. These disparate groups take an interest in the organisation, so it’s vital that businesses reciprocate and demonstrate mutual feelings.

Returning to the Port of Darwin, the politics are not lost on me and I appreciate that Mr Turnbull may have been fully aware of Mr Obama’s interest, but chose not to tell and I’m sure we’ll hear more over coming days. However, if that was the game plan, it’s good practice to weigh up the cost of not telling.  

Tiger Woods is Great.

I recently revisited Bill Dorris’ The Arrival of the Fittest: How the Great Become Great in preparation for a tutorial I gave at UNSW. At the risk of woefully condensing the author’s insights to the point of becoming meaningless, Dorris points out that those who attain the label of “greatness” are credited with solving a key generational problem in society, or a field of play or learning; among others, he (rightly) cites the likes of Lincoln and Einstein as great. Now, the vital word in that description is surely, “generational” - quite simply, these men and women are few and far between. Why? Because the obstacles they faced were so few and far between. Essentially, it’s not necessarily about the individual achievements, but the metaphorical mountains they have to climb to get to those achievements.

I bring this up for a number of reasons; primarily, I love words and it is part of what we do in defining stories for clients at CRP, and secondly, it makes for an interesting debate. So, in light of the seemingly universal nature of greatness these days – please, enter, ‘Who is Great’ into Google Images and you get everybody from US soccer player, Oguchi Onyewu, to BB King and Harry Potter – I urge us to return the notion of what it means to be great, back to Dorris’ Himalayan heights. It can, rest assured, only serve us well.

Sport is the lightning rod of greatness, or that’s how media commentators would have us believe it. There is not a week that goes by without us being witness to apparent greatness, whether it’s behind the wheel, or in front of goal. Sportsmen and women are capable of great achievements, but that’s a big difference – it’s not greatness. The challenges they face are rarely insurmountable – the competitors are both familiar and finite; that is, you usually know the strengths and weaknesses of your opponents and there aren’t too many of them.

If there’s one individual that’s polarised the debate recently, that would be Tiger Woods. The golfer’s on-course achievements cannot be contested, but his personal challenges did much in the eyes of many to undermine any claims to the label of great. Greatness can only be earnt both on and off the course it would appear. However, if Woods’ career is to be framed against Dorris’ criteria, has he not already achieved greatness? Specifically, here was a young man of African American descent who opened up one of the most racially exclusive games to a generation of young, non-white players. Anyway, they are my thoughts – what are yours? 

What's the story, Mr Turnbull?

In his immensely readable book, ‘Lessons from the Top’, BBC presenter Gavin Estler takes a close look at the story telling techniques of those who have made it; from Bill Clinton, to Lady Gaga, Steve Jobs to Angela Merkel. In summary, they’re all very good at telling us who they are, their purpose in life and what defines them and their followers as a distinct group.

Estler’s analysis got me thinking about the Malcolm Turnbull story – that’s the new Prime Minister’s personal narrative; the story controlled and projected by Turnbull, as opposed to stories about his life to date. Undoubtedly, the life to date has been remarkable for its breadth and its achievements – journalist, lawyer, business man and technology entrepreneur. Seemingly, rich pickings to answer the ‘who am I?’ question, or is it? The Prime Minister and his advisors are smart people and to that end, acutely aware of how previous achievements could be misinterpreted by vast swathes of the public; for one man’s achievements, read another man’s privileged opportunities.

Rather unfairly, such a string of accomplishments could be framed by some as indicative of a restless streak – to put it bluntly, he’s not a stayer. Consequently, Mr Turnbull’s storytellers would appear to be focussing on the other parts of the process – namely, what defines the leader and his followers and what exactly is their collective purpose. This, in itself, is interesting as it takes us – for the time being – to excitement; more specifically, “the most exciting time to be an Australian” according to the Prime Minister. This presumably means that Mr Turnbull and his cabinet are the men and women who will help the rest of us realise the bounty of such heady days? There’s gold in them there hills, son; join us and we’ll get rich together.

They’ll backtrack from ‘excitement’ – they have to. It’s ephemeral and more importantly, it’s the opposite of ‘calm’ – a trait much sought after in our leaders.

It’s an intriguing word to choose; it’s evaluative and to that end, subjective. It wasn’t, it’s assumed, chosen lightly. These are exciting times, but the excitement is largely borne of uncertainty and that’s one place the Prime Minister wouldn’t go. As I said, he’s a business man, and if there’s one thing we know, it’s that markets hate uncertainty.