Riding the ripple

Figures suggest that on any given weekday around 500 face-to-face charity fundraisers can be found on UK high streets. Affectionately known as chuggers, a word derived from combining ‘charity’ with ‘mugger’, my local high street seems have more than its fair share of the pesky buggers.

I have no issue with the chuggers themselves of course – they’re only trying to earn an honest crust after all. What bothers me more is the charities who employ them.

Research indicates that two-thirds of the Great British public would cross the road to avoid a chugger and that 25 per cent of people actually hate being approached by one.

Assuming that there is some substance to this research, the stark reality is that deploying chuggers cannot be good for a charity’s reputation. Can you imagine any kind of successful commercial entity operating in a way that knowingly alienates more potential customers than it pleases?

The Public Fundraising Regulatory Association (PFRA) takes a very interesting stance on this very issue. In answer to the FAQ do people have a right to walk down the street without being asked to give to charity they state:

“Sorry if we sound a bit blunt, but, do they, actually? We frequently hear versions of this argument… we don’t want to come across as being flippant and dismissive, but we really think the basis of this whole argument requires closer examination. Where does this ‘right’ come from?”

Well yes, this does sound a touch dismissive and pretty complacent actually. Perhaps they should take heed and do something about it rather than pretend it is not a real problem which is affecting the reputations of their members on a daily basis.

The return on investment for charities that chug is around 3 to 1, which I guess to them must seem pretty attractive. But do supporters really want to see a third of their donations lining the pockets of the chuggers rather than go directly to the charity? I know I don’t and personally I think it lacks imagination and is lazy fundraising.

I have a soft spot for charities who choose to communicate and engage with potential supporters directly and in a way that creates a positive and sustainable relationship, especially those who use volunteers and ambassadors to spread the word.

I know it isn’t easy, but I’d like to see a lot more hugging and a lot less chugging.

There’s nothing like a bit of marketing bullshit to invigorate your day.

You know the kind of stuff I’m on about: “I need a cradle to grave solution pronto – I want you to shoot for the moon but let’s not boil the ocean on this one amigos, we simply don’t have the bandwidth”…

I’m delighted to report that in my relatively short experience with my current employer I don’t see much of this (other than when agencies pop in to pitch for some business and the occasional chai latte).

So imagine my surprise when I received a draft communication recently from one of our own Marketing boys about a new product he wanted to let everyone know about, which contained the following line:

“…as part of our overall drive to dial up the volume button on our value pillar and to make value core to our brand this year across all channels…”

On the whole, the draft was actually a beautifully written piece and got the message across perfectly until this sliding tackle from behind left me with no choice but to reach for the yellow card.

My modest contribution to improving this line was to simplify the text by removing the offending words, leaving:

“…as part of our overall drive to make value core to our brand this year across all channels…”

Hands up anyone who thinks the volume button and value pillar will be missed?

Emotional stress is a killer. It is a major contributor to heart disease and other life threatening illnesses. It also causes exhaustion, irritability, angry outbursts, muscular tension and poor concentration levels.

So a stressed employee is unlikely to return optimal performance right? And what is worry if it is not a manifestation of emotional stress?

I don’t worry about much. I certainly never worry about things beyond my control. I don’t tend to worry about things within my control either because I have always found that worrying about things rarely, if ever, contributes to making them better. I have always enjoyed a quiet but resolute confidence in my own ability to make the right decisions, exercise sound judgement and produce good quality work on time without the need to panic or get stressed about missing details or deadlines.

This of course does not mean that I don’t sometimes let people down. Of course I do, we all do, but the people or projects that may have to wait for something are invariably the victims of necessary prioritisation.

Over the years I have learned how my apparent state of calmness even under considerable duress (a skill I acquired during my 15 year stint with the Metropolitan Police) can infuriate people, especially worriers. I guess it’s easy for a worrier to misinterpret my own lack of worry as a lack of interest or even focus; which actually could not be further from the truth.

Years ago I worked for a very talented lady who was also a ninja worrier. She used to react to the pressures of work by winding herself up into a state of increasingly heightened emotion, which occasionally led her to explode in violent rages. And I of course made things worse by not reacting by jumping to attention and running around like a madman pretending to looked stressed.

I was a rower for many years and if rowing teaches you anything it teaches you to remain calm and to channel and control your power so that it makes a positive contribution to the smooth passage of the boat.

If you get anxious and rush in at the catch, it’s like hitting the break pedal instead of the accelerator. The whole crew suffers when you rush your stroke. They have to compensate for your action and work harder themselves. It’s all about controlled aggression.

The truth is, these days, the only thing I ever worry about is the fact that I never worry about anything.

My name is Jon and I’m an addict.

I’ve been a junkie for as long as I can remember. These are some of the symptoms of my condition:

• A constant craving to find alternative ways to do things.
• A constant desire to find alternative routes to get from A to B. And then back again.
• I’m never on time. Sometimes I’m early; sometimes I’m late – but never on time.
• A refusal to sit on the same seat on the train to work every day. I’d rather stand thank you.
• A pathological hatred of holiday itineraries. And I mean hatred!
• People who go back to the same hotel every year scare me. Why would you want to do that?
• An itch to try new dishes in restaurants. Even if I don’t really like the sound of them. Unless they contain celery.
• The word ‘routine’ makes me break out in a cold sweat.
• The only thing I ever worry about is not worrying about anything.
• I never read instructions. Especially IKEA’s.

I’m a change junkie. I love it and don’t ever want that to change. Er, hang on, let me think about that one…

Some would describe my condition as somewhat chaotic.

I say out of chaos comes discovery – and isn’t that what life is all about?

There is an old Burmese saying which goes “the blind person never fears ghosts”. I suspect there are millions of ‘blind’ people out there reading blogs and following tweeps in blissful ignorance of the fact that they are victims of a subtle yet deliberate deception, and the person they believe they are listening to is not who they imagine.

I wrote a piece on ghost blogging last month and was delighted today to have the opportunity to listen to a fascinating debate on the subject by two real heavyweights. Marketing Magazine dubbed Mitch Joel the Rock Star of Digital Marketing. His Six Pixels of Separation is a well respected blog and 19k followers on Twitter is not too shabby. Mitch is in the blue corner, arguing, like me against ghost blogging.

In the red corner stands Mark Schaefer, marketing consultant extraordinaire, with an equally not too shabby 14k followers on Twitter.

Listening to the debate you get the feeling that Mark would love to agree with Mitch, and indeed on several occasions he clearly does agree on a fundamental and emotional level. The bottom line for me was that he could not allow himself to agree on a practical level because he has a vested interest in promoting ghost writing to his own clients.

If you are interested in the morality and practicality of ghost blogging, try and find 40 minutes to listen to these boys – it is worth every second.

I make no apology for devoting a third consecutive post to the issue of trust. It’s important peeps – and it’s topical.

Deloitte’s fourth annual Ethics & Workplace Survey was published this week and surprise surprise, lack of trust and transparency are the dominant reasons why employees are on the hunt for a new job.

The headlines declare that one third of all Americans will seek a new job once the economy recovers, and just under a half (48%) say their primary motivation for doing so is a lack of trust in their employers. Forty-six percent say a lack of transparent communication from their leaders is the primary cause of their dissatisfaction at work.

Actually, this comes as something of a relief. I’ve barking about the importance of trust in the workplace for longer than I care to remember. The evidence I tend to cite is plain old common sense supplemented by centuries of academic study, starting BC with Harry Stottle’s Rhetoric, in which the great man himself explored the importance of trust in effective communication and persuasion. So it’s always nice to see some more up-to-date evidence.

My angle today is trust v. monitoring and my question is around the management of risk. Specifically, what is the best way to prevent secrets from leaking out of an organisation?

There is a huge industry devoted to developing, selling and maintaining surveillance and monitoring software and systems designed to prevent secrets from sneaking out of the corporate firewall. Now I’m not suggesting that investment in this area is a complete waste of money – what I am suggesting is that anyone who thinks you can prevent the leak of secrets simply by deploying tools is either delusional or has not thought about it hard enough.

The truth is there is no electronic or physical way of preventing organisational leakage. The best you can hope to do with such measures is to catch someone after the deed has been done. And then what? I guess you hold a public flogging to act as a deterrent to other would be offenders. Doesn’t sound particularly attractive to me; and the flogging story is even more likely to leak than the original one, which again does not feel like such a good idea.

Surely it is far better to create an environment where the original leak is far less likely to occur because the potential flogee feels trusted, valued, respected and dare I say loved? Instead of scuttling off to the media, disgruntled Joe feels less inclined to repay his employer’s trust with sabotage and subterfuge. He feels more inclined to trust his employer because his employer trusts him, and he feels able to talk about his frustrations internally without fear of being pilloried.

The people when rightly and fully trusted will return the trust. Yep – Abraham Lincoln new the score.

I know some you will read this and think I’m either being very naive or bit extreme. Just for the record, clearly there are other things that need to be in place beyond blind faith in humanity. You know; things like policies & procedures, awareness and education and maybe even a bit of random email monitoring if you must.

Trust everyone, but always cut the pack before dealing the cards.

On the rant I mentioned yesterday. Maybe rant is a little strong. Letting of steam may be a bit fairer. Anyway, the post came across as an impassioned plea for more trust and transparency in the work place.

The guy was clearly frustrated, and he broke a few basic rules of social media netiquette by ‘SHOUTING’ a bit at unnamed individuals who in his eyes seem to get a kick out of  ‘being in the know’.

I was with him 100% in sentiment, but feared that his manner had the potential to undermine a very important debate, as well as create a negative perception among people that didn’t know him and thereby damaging his own personal equity.

I also feared that the naysayers could use the post to take a swipe at my beloved Yammer.

So I called him up for a chat. And guess what – I was beaten to it. A call from up on high had already been made to his boss, along the lines of “have you seen what this guy has written – how can he be trusted with sensitive information after writing something like that?”

Exactly as I feared. His rant had diverted attention away from the real issue and drawn attention to himself in a way that he had not intended or desired. Many people would have been put off by such a reaction and it would have been easy and forgivable to say “sod that, I’m not playing on Yammer again, it’s far too dangerous”.

Fortunately he didn’t. After a few hours of reflection he returned and apologised for his earlier rant, explaining how his passion for the company and his desire to see it be the best it can be lay behind his emotional plea.

He then went on to list the following reasons why he believes transparency in the workplace is a good thing:

• It helps employees understand why
• It allows for consistent messaging across the organization
• It leads to faster, more efficient execution
• It heals we/they divisiveness
• It keeps good people from leaving
• It facilitates the best possible solutions

That’s better! That’s what I call a proper contribution to a very important debate.

And it’s made even more compelling by the fact that it’s not from a text book on employee engagement or from the mouth of an organisational effectiveness guru.

It’s straight from the heart of a very engaged employee.

Our Yammer network is growing by the day and as time passes my excitement about its potential for increasing the speed and quality of collaboration, knowledge sharing and innovation across the company rises.

So naturally I get very protective when something happens that potentially undermines our continued use of my new favourite application. One of the issues I know causes some discomfort among senior executives everywhere is the issue of trust and confidentiality. So one thing you don’t really want to see on Yammer is open discussion about commercially sensitive information that needs to be kept in a closed loop.

After many thousands of conversations and contributions on our network since it was brought to life last year I have yet to see anyone cross this boundary.

Actually this comes as no surprise to me. I have long believed that when you trust people to behave appropriately they do. Secrets fuel gossip, speculation & rumour, which quickly spreads around as people who feel excluded and unworthy probe and speculate. This can be very disruptive in any work place – and sooner or later they become open secrets in any event.

And because people have no stake in them (and they only have half the story) they are far more likely to say or ask something inappropriate in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In my experience the more stuff you try to hide, the greater the risk you run of it leaking out. On the other hand, if you treat people as adults and trust them with information, they will repay your trust and respect the need to exercise discretion and moderation when talking to the outside world.

Of course there are some things that need to be kept secret. But I think that too many companies have a tendency to overplay the secrecy card – and this can have a seriously detrimental effect on organisational culture and effectiveness.

One of the guys at work had a bit of a rant on Yammer a few days ago on this very subject.

More on this tomorrow. Trust me, it’s a good story…

I got pulled over by the rossers on the way home tonight. It was just after 11pm, traffic was light, and was caught skipping a red light on my bicycle.

I’m not after sympathy. I know I won’t get any because motorists (me included) get really cheesed off by the frequent sight of lycra-clad urban cycle terrorists violating virtually every conceivable traffic law on a daily basis (me included).

First then, I apologise for breaking the law. I know that cyclists are subject to the laws of the road just as much as drivers.  That said, I think I was not acting in an unreasonable way taking into account the full circumstances.

The red light in question controls a junction on Kingston Hill that only feeds the car park to Asda. Asda closed at 9pm. There were no pedestrians anywhere to be seen. There were two buses stopped at the lights, taking up both lanes, and rather than edge inside them, which, as every cyclist knows is very dangerous, I edged around them on the outside lane.

I’m on a bike. I have great all-round vision unlike a driver. I can hear everything around me, unlike a driver. I ride this route very regularly and have an acute awareness of the traffic light phasing. It was 11pm at night and traffic was light.

I was not moving much faster than walking speed as I reached front row of the grid and I could see there was no traffic or pedestrians coming out of Asda. Instead of coming to a complete stop and having to unhook those bloody stupid clippy shoes from the pedals I edged out across the junction and slowly kept moving forward.

Before I had cleared the junction the lights were green. I rose up off my saddle and pushed on quickly Lance Armstrong style, and after maybe 20 yards became aware of a marked police car pull up alongside me, blue lights flashing, sounding its horn. I always thought horns were only to be used as a warning, not as a way to grab one’s attention unnecessarily.

I pulled up – as it happens right in front of the next set of traffic lights which had just turned green. The police car stopped next to me, and between the two of us we were now blocking both southbound lanes, at a major intersection, with a trail of cars behind us now prevented from continuing up the road.

Officer: “You have just committed a moving traffic offence for which I can fine you £30”

Me: “You’re right and I’m sorry, but it is 11pm, Asda closed a few hours ago, I could see my passage was clear, I knew the lights were just about to change and I was travelling at walking speed” (I actually wanted to say “you are blocking the road because you can’t be arsed to pull over and get out of the car to speak to me properly – that is unnecessary obstruction of the highway, rude and pretty unprofessional” but having been a police office for 15 years in a previous life I knew better than to say want I really thought).

Officer: “If I have to stop, so do you”

Me: “I understand that and I’m sorry for wasting your time” (I actually wanted to say “If I have to stop, so do you is a pretty childish way of describing the situation surrounding my transgression. Grow up and go and do some proper police work and stop wasting everybody’s time”, but having been a police office for 15 years in a previous life I knew better than to say want I really thought).

I think I’ll get the train tomorrow just in case Kingston Old Bill read this, get the hump and come looking for me.

I guess I probably still qualify as social media virgin. Lots of frantic petting as I try to make up for lost time, but the truth is I’ve only been blogging for 5 months, active on Twitter for just over a year and still cannot really be arsed with Facebook.

Like all virgins, I am therefore somewhat by definition a touch naive. I like to believe that when I follow someone on Twitter or subscribe to a blog, I get to connect with the actual individual I’m interested in.

For example, I enjoy following Duncan Bannatyne on Twitter. I have enjoyed reading his books; he has a very interesting life story, which in many respects he lives out on Twitter, and I enjoy the opportunity to feel part of it. Now if I ever had an inkling that he was not responsible for his own tweets and that he employed a ghost writer or even shared the job out with his PA, I’d be off like a shot.

I’d feel cheated. It’s as bad as a doting fan paying big bucks to watch a mega recording artist perform live, only to discover half way through the show she was lip-synching. It’s probably as bad as removing ones wedding ring before entering a singles bar….

I only found out recently that there is a massive ongoing debate on this very issue. It’s been raging for years.

In the red corner you have the PRs, the seasoned command & control communications veterans and the ghost bloggers themselves. These guys think ghost blogging is an honourable and essential profession, given that their clients are far too busy and important to actually write for themselves.

And if they didn’t do it for them the world would be an emptier place because we’d all be missing out from their nuggets of wisdom, and sparkling wit & repartee.

Of course their clients don’t like them to disclose who they write for – that would be embarrassing right? That could lead to reputational damage right? So it’s OK to do it provided no one finds out. Oh dear. So where is the integrity and honesty in that?

So the red corner argues that professional communicators have always supported CEOs, celebrities and politicians by writing their speeches, their books and their letters since time immemorial. It’s true, and I have no issue with that. But these media are not social. They are not blogs; which have fundamentally changed the rule book.

Needless to say, I am in the blue corner. If I want to read facts about a company, I will read its annual report and check out its website. If I want to understand what makes a company tick I’ll subscribe to its employee blogs and follow its staff on Twitter, where I can connect with them directly. And part of what makes the experience so interesting and the connection so compelling is the blend of work and play; the immediacy; the shared pleasure in sharing; and the free-flow of consciousness.

Actually this blog post was triggered off by a comment I read a few days ago in a piece on www.ragan.com called It’s just ridiculous to argue about ghost-blogging

Try the link, it may work for you. I cannot access it now unless I pay a rather chunky subscription fee.

An anonymous contributor added this in a comment in his or her anonymous defence of ghost blogging (spot the irony): “a highly polished, marcom speak-laden entry, is highly preferable to undisciplined, poorly constructed, rambling from a great CEO who is not a writer”.

I’m sorry I don’t buy this. I don’t read blogs to be entertained by brilliant writing. I read blogs because I am interested in listening to that person. I want to feel connected to the author. I can’t do either if I know the blog is ghost written. If you don’t have time to blog, don’t do it. That’s fine. I won’t think any less of you! But if you are going to blog, be genuine and be real.

I like the advice that Kodak give on the subjectin their Kodak Social Media Tips: “Always be transparent. When you are communicating in social media say who you are and who you work for. Don’t try to be sneaky and plant comments, don’t hire people to go out and say nice things about you and stay away from ghost writing. Be genuine and be real.”

I’m going to leave the last word to an old pro who knows what he is talking about. If I’m a social media virgin, I guess Robert Scoble, is the Casanova. In his 2003 blogging manifesto he wrote: “Use a human voice. Don’t get corporate lawyers and PR professionals to cleanse your speech. We can tell, believe me.”  Scobleizer – The corporate weblog manifesto

Wise words indeed from the undisputed heavyweight champion of the blogging world!