Category Archives: Corporate Strategy

Basic Instincts and Attention Economics

We’ve been here before. Something becomes valuable because it’s scarce. The minute society agrees on the newly assigned value, wars begin because of it. Typically these things have been physical. And the battle lines have been drawn geographically. But this time is different. This time, we’re fighting over attention – specifically, our attention – and the battle is between individuals and corporations. Do we, as individuals, have the right to choose what we pay attention to? Or do the creators of content own our attention and can they harvest it at their will? This is the question that is rapidly dismantling the entire advertising industry. It has been debated at length here at Mediapost and pretty much every other publication everywhere.

I won’t join in the debate at this time. The reality here is that we do control our attention and the advertising industry was built on a different premise of scarcity from a different time. It was built on a foundation of access and creation, when both those things were in short supply. By creating content and solving the physical problem of giving us access to that content, the industry gained the right to ask us to watch an ad. No ads, no content. It was a bargain we agreed to because we had no other choice.

The Internet then proceeded to blow that foundation to smithereens.

By removing the physical constraints that restricted both the creation and distribution of content, technology has also erased the scarcity. In fact, the balance has been forever tipped the other way. We now have access to so much content; we don’t have enough attention to digest it all. Viewed in this light, it makes the debate around ad blockers seem hopelessly out of touch. Accusing someone of stealing content is like accusing someone of stealing air. The anti-blocking side is trying to apply the economic rational of a market that no longer exists.

So let us accept the fact that we are the owners of our own attention, and that it is a scarce commodity. That makes it valuable. My point is that we should pay more attention to how we pay attention. If the new economy is going to be built on attention, we should treat it with more respect.

The problem here is that we have two types of attention, the same as we have two types of thinking: Fast and Slow. Our slow attention is our focused, conscious attention. It is the attention we pay when we’re reading a book, watching a video or talking to someone. We consciously make a choice when we pay this type of attention. Think of it like a spotlight we shine on something for an extended period of time.

It’s the second type of attention, fast attention, which is typically the target of advertising. It plays on the edge of our spotlight, quickly and subconsciously monitoring the environment so it can swing the spotlight of conscious attention if required. Because this type of attention operates below the level of rational thought, it is controlled by base instincts. It’s why sex works in advertising. It’s why Kim Kardashian can repeatedly break the Internet. It’s why Donald Trump is leading the Republican race. And it’s why adorable Asian babies wearing watermelons can go viral.

It’s this type of attention that really determines the value of the attention economy. It’s the gatekeeper that determines how slow attention is focused. And it’s here where we may need some help. I don’t think instincts developed 200,000 years ago are necessarily the best guide for how we should invest something that has become so valuable. We need a better yardstick that simple titillation for determining where our attention should be spent.

I expect the death throes of the previous access economy to go on for some time. The teeth gnashing of the advertising industry will capture a lot of attention. But the end is inevitable. The economic underpinnings are gone, so it’s just a matter of time before the superstructures built on top of them will collapse. In my opinion, we should just move on and think about what the new world will look like. If attention is the new currency, what is the smartest way to spend it?

The Required Conditions for Innovation

Statistically speaking, it appears that there’s a correlation between atheism and innovation. But my point in last week’s column was not to show that atheists are more innovative. My goal was to try to hypothesize what the underlying causation might be. I don’t really care if atheists, or Buddhists – or Seventh Day Adventists for that matter – are more innovative. What does interest me, however, is what is unique about an environment in which both atheism and innovation can flourish.

Why am I so focused on innovation? Because innovation drives economic growth. It is the force that unleashes Schumpeterian Gales of Creative Distruction. In any formula measuring economic performance, Innovation always equals N. It’s a very big deal. The biggest deal.

That means the conditions that lead to innovation are worth noting. And I started on the national scale for a reason. Sometimes, it helps to change our perspective if we’re exploring the “why” of a question. Either pulling back to the macro or zooming in to the micro allows us to see things we may not see when we remain stuck in our current context. So, what can we learn about the conditions of innovation from the world’s most innovative countries?

Atheism = Innovation?

Let’s look at the atheist factor. How might a lack of religion lead to a surfeit of innovation? I think it may have something to do with belief – or rather – the lack of belief. When we believe something, we usually don’t go out of our way to prove it true. That also means we never find out it’s false. But nations that have a lot of atheists are not a very trusting lot, at least when it comes to things like government and other institutions. There was a moderately negative correlation (r=-0.4425). They are skeptics. And when it comes to innovation, skepticism is very healthy.

If we looked back to Alex Pentland’s ideas about Social Physics, we need two types of social interactions: exploration and engagement. The first of these is where innovation comes from. And skeptics are more exploratory than the trustful. They probe the unknown rather than rely on their beliefs. As Pentland says in his book Social Physics, “If you can find many such independent thinkers and discover that there is a consensus among a large subset of them, then a really, really good trading strategy is to follow the contrarian consensus.”

Ideological Diversity

It’s not just skepticism, however, that drives innovation. It’s also ideological diversity. You need a social network that encompasses a lot of different experiences and points of view. The broader the spectrum of ideas, the more likely that you’ve captured something that approximates the truth somewhere in that spectrum. If you can trade monolithic beliefs for a healthy respect for ideas that may not mirror your own in your own organization, you’ve probably laid the groundwork for innovation.

Going Rogue

Not so many years ago, an organization I was part of called for a rather rushed retreat of all the executive management. We gathered in a posh ski resort for a brainstorming session. All the top managerial talent was present. The CEO took the stage and called on us to be innovative. But he, like most managers, did not encourage diversity. Rather, he believed unity was the way to innovate.

“No one can go rogue!” he preached from the corporate pulpit. In other words, “No one can disagree with me.”

If this CEO (who has since stepped down) had looked at countries like Sweden, or Japan, or South Korea, he might have realized that sometimes, “going rogue” is exactly what you need to come up with a new idea.

Are Atheists More Innovative?

A few columns back, I talked about the most innovative countries in the world, according to INSEAD, Johnson School of Management and WIPO. Switzerland, of all places, topped the list. At the time, I mentioned diversity as possibly being one of the factors. But for some reason, I just couldn’t let it lie there.

Last Friday afternoon, it being pretty miserable outside, I dusted off my Stats 101 prowess and decided to look for correlations. The next thing I knew, 3 hours had passed and I was earlobe deep in data tables and spreadsheets.

Yeah..that’s how I roll. That’s wassup.

But I digress. What initially sent me down this path was a new study out of the University of Kansas by Tien-Tsung lee and co-authors Masahiro Yamamoto and Weina Ran. Working with data from Japan, they found that the amount of trust you have in media depends on the diversity of the community you live in. The more diverse the population, the lower the degree of trust in media.

This caught my attention – a negative correlation between trust and diversity. I wondered how those two things might triangulate with innovation. Was there a three-way link here?

So, I started compiling the data. First, I wanted to broaden the definition of innovation. Originally, I had cited the INSEAD Global Innovation Index. Bloomberg also has a ranking of innovation by country that uses a few different criteria. I decided to take an average, normalized score of the two together. In case you’re wondering, Switzerland scored much lower in the Bloomberg ranking, which had South Korea, Japan and Germany in the top three spots.

With my new innovation ranking, I then started to look for correlations. What part, for example, did trust play? According to Edelman, the global marketing giant, who publishes an annual trust barometer, it plays a massive role: “Building trust is essential to successfully bringing new products and services to market.” Their trust barometer measures trust in the infrastructural institutions of the respective countries. So I added Edelman’s indexed trust scores to my spreadsheet and used a quick and dirty Pearson r-value test to look for significant correlations. For those as rusty as I when it comes to stats, a perfect correlation would be 1.0. Strong relationships show up in the 0.6 and above range. Moderate relationships are in the 0.3 to 0.6 range. Weak relationships are 0.3 and below. Zero values indicate no relationship. Inverse relationships follow the same scale but with negative values.

The result? Not only was there no positive correlation, there was actually a moderately significant negative correlation! For those interested, the r-value was -0.4224. Based on this admittedly amateur analysis, trust in national institutions and innovation do not seem to go hand-in-hand. Some of the most innovative countries are the least trusting and vice-versa. It certainly wasn’t the neat supposed linear relationship that Edelman referred to in their press releases for their barometer.

Next, I turned to the obvious – the wealth of the respective nations. I added GDP per capita as a data point. Predictably, there was a strong positive correlation here – I came up with an r-value of .793. Rich countries are more innovative. Duh.

Now comes the really interesting part. What was the relationship between cultural diversity and innovation? If my original hypothesis was correct, there should be at least a moderate correlation here. The problem was trying to find an accurate measure of cultural diversity. I ended up using three measures from Alesina et al: Ethnic Fractionalization, Linguistic Fractionalization and Religious Fractionalization. I averaged these out and indexed them to give me a single score of cultural diversity. To my surprise, my hypothesis appeared to be significantly flawed – my r value was -0.2488.

But then I started analyzing the individual measures of diversity. Ethnic Diversity and Innovation showed a moderate negative correlation: -0.5738. Linguistic Diversity and Innovation showed a less significant negative correlation: -0.3886. But Religious Diversity and Innovation came up as a moderate positive correlation: 0.4129! Of the three, religion is the only measure of diversity that’s directly ideological, at least to some extent.

This seemed to be promising, so I pushed it to the extreme. If religious diversity shows to be correlated with innovation, I wonder how the prevalence of atheists would relate? After all, this should be the ultimate measure of religious ideological freedom. So, using a combination of results from a worldwide Gallup survey and a study from Phil Zuckerman, I added an indexed “atheism” score. Sure enough, the r-value was 0.7461! This was almost as significant as the correlation between national wealth and innovation! Based on my combined innovation scores, some of the least religious countries in the world (Japan, Sweden and Switzerland) are the most innovative.

So – ignoring for a moment the barn-door sized holes in my impromptu methodology and a whack of confounding factors – what might this hypothetically mean? I’ll come back to this intriguing question in next week’s Online Spin.

Consumers in the Wild

Once a Forager, Always a Forager

Your world is a much different place than the African Savanna. But over 100,000 generations of evolution that started on those plains still dictates a remarkable degree of our modern behavior.

Take foraging, for example. We evolved as hunters and gatherers. It was our primary survival instinct. And even though the first hominids are relatively recent additions to the biological family tree, strategies for foraging have been developing for millions and millions of years. It’s hardwired into the deepest and most inflexible parts of our brain. It makes sense, then, that foraging instincts that were once reserved for food gathering should be applied to a wide range of our activities.

That is, in fact, what Peter Pirolli and Stuart Card discovered two decades ago. When they looked at how we navigated online sources of information, they found that humans used the very same strategy we would have used for berry picking or gathering cassava roots. And one of the critical elements of this was something called Marginal Value.

Bounded Rationality & Foraging

It’s hard work being a forager. Most of your day – and energy – is spent looking for something to eat. The sparser the food sources in your environment, the more time you spend looking for them. It’s not surprising; therefore, that we should have some fairly well honed calculations for assessing the quality of our food sources. This is what biologist Eric Charnov called Marginal Value in 1976. It’s an instinctual (and therefore, largely subconscious) evaluation of food “patches” by most types of foragers, humans included . It’s how our brain decides whether we should stay where we are or find another patch. It would have been a very big deal 2 million – or even 100,000 – years ago.

Today, for most of us, food sources are decidedly less “patchy.” But old instincts die hard. So we did what humans do. We borrowed an old instinct and applied it to new situations. We exapted our foraging strategies and started using them for a wide range of activities where we had to have a rough and ready estimation of our return on our energy investment. Increasingly, more and more of these activities asked for an investment of cognitive processing power. And we did all this without knowing we were even doing it.

This brings us to Herbert Simon’s concept of Bounded Rationality. I believe this is tied directly to Charnov’s theorem of Marginal Value. When we calculate how much mental energy we’re going to expend on an information-gathering task, we subconsciously determine the promise of the information “patches” available to us. Then we decided to invest accordingly based on our own “bounded” rationality.

Brands as Proxies for Foraging

It’s just this subconscious calculation that has turned the world of consumerism on its ear in the last two decades. As Itamar Simonson and Emanuel Rosen explain in their book Absolute Value, the explosion of information available has meant that we are making different marginal value calculations than we would have thirty or forty years ago. We have much richer patches available, so we’re more likely to invest the time to explore them. And, once we do, the way we evaluate our consumer choices changes completely. Our modern concept of branding was a direct result of both bounded rationality and sparse information patches. If a patch of objective and reliable information wasn’t apparent, we would rely on brands as a cognitive shortcut, saving our bounded rationality for more promising tasks.

Google, The Ultimate “Patch”

In understanding modern consumer behavior, I think we have to pay much more attention to this idea of marginal value. What is the nature of the subconscious algorithm that decides whether we’re going to forage for more information or rely on our brand beliefs? We evolved foraging strategies that play a huge part in how we behave today.

For example, the way we navigate our physical environment appears to owe much to how we used to search for food. Women determine where they’re going differently than men because women used to search for food differently. Men tend to do this by orientation, mentally maintaining a spatial grid in their minds against which they plot their own location. Women do it by remembering routes. In my own research, I found split-second differences in how men and women navigated websites that seem to go back to those same foundations.

Whether you’re a man or a woman, however, you need to have some type of mental inventory of information patches available to you to in order to assess the marginal value of those patches. This is the mental landscape Google plays in. For more and more decisions, our marginal value calculation starts with a quick search on Google to see if any promising patches show up in the results. Our need to keep a mental inventory of patches can be subjugated to Google.

It seems ironic that in our current environment, more and more of our behavior can be traced back millions of years to behaviors that evolved in a world where high-tech meant a sharper rock.

Innovating Along the Edges

If you want innovation, go to Switzerland. According to the Global Innovation Index, those Swiss are the most innovative people on the planet. Next is the UK, then Sweden. The Dutch are pretty damn innovative too, coming in at number four. Then you have the good old USA rounding up the top 5.

My fellow Canadians? Less innovative, apparently. We’re at #16. Those damn Luxembourgians and Icelanders even beat us (ranking 9th and 13th respectively). But hey, we beat the Japanese (19) and we’re miles ahead of China (29), Russia (48) and India (81).

Pillars of Innovation

So, what makes a country innovative? And, by extension, what lessons can we learn about encouraging innovation generally? The publishers of the index look at five pillars of innovation: Institutions, Human Capital and Research, Infrastructure, Market Sophistication and Business Sophistication.

If you look at these, it makes sense that the better off the country, the more innovative it will be. These are the countries that can invest in education and the infrastructure needed to support innovation. I would also add risk taking to the prerequisites of innovation. I suspect that may be why my fellow Canadians are less innovative on average than Americans.

But, if you talk to Sandy Pentland, there is another factor to consider: Physics. Specifically, Social Physics.

The Physics of Innovation

If we look at innovative environments, the most successful example is a city. Cities, especially some cities, are hot beds of innovation. New York, for example, or San Francisco, or Boston, continually crank out more innovative ideas per person than most places you could name. Why are cities more innovative, per capita, than rural regions? Sure, there are aspects of the five pillars there: good universities, lots of smart people, sophisticated marketers. But the main reason may come down to the nature of networks you find in a city.

Alex “Sandy” Pentland just happens to live in an innovative city – Boston. And he works at MIT, one of the most innovative institutions in the world. There he heads up perhaps the single most innovative department, the Entreneurship Program at MIT’s Media Lab. So, it’s fair to say that Pentland knows a thing or two about innovation. But what really fascinates Pentland is the way people connect and, by doing so, spread ideas. This is what he refers to as “Social Physics.”

Some cities promote innovation because they promote a certain type of network connectivity. In order for innovative ideas to spread, there needs to be two types of connection: exploration and engagement. The first offers a clue to why cities may be particularly innovative. Sparks of creativity tend to come from interface areas, or the edges of social groups, where different ideas and viewpoints come into contact with each other. If you’re surrounded by people who look, speak and think the same way you do, you get an “echo chamber.” There is no diversity in your exploration. But if you’re in an environment that lends itself to encountering diverse ideas and points of view, your exploratory connections become “mash-ups” of innovation. As Steve Jobs said, “Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesize new things.” But you can only see that “something” if you’re in an environment that allows connections.

Back to those Swiss

So, the five pillars of innovation aside, perhaps the Swiss advantage in innovation comes from the fact that it’s a pretty small country that has 8 million people and 4 official languages. Also, 74% of those people live in a city. That mean’s that there are lots of social “edges” coming into contact with each other.

Once they settle on a language, I’m guessing the Swiss have some pretty interesting conversations.

Google’s New Brand Launch – Function Driving Form

What would happen if you created an advertising agency run by engineers?

You’d have Google. That’s what.

Last week, I was on the road. I went to Google something on my smartphone, and noticed the logo had changed. I thought at first it was a Doodle commemorating some famous typeface designer, so I didn’t spend too much time digging into it. But on the next day, when the new Google word mark was still there, I decided to see if this was deliberate and permanent. Sure enough, Google had quietly swapped out their brand identity. And they did it in classic Google style.

I wasn’t a fan – at first. But I was looking at it from a purely aesthetic perspective. I prefer classic serif faces. I love the elegance of the curvatures and strokes. Sans serif faces always seem to me to be trying too hard to be accessible. They’re like the puppies of the design world, constantly licking your face. Serif faces are like cats – stretching luxuriously and challenging you to love them on their terms.

But the more I thought – and read – about the branding change, the more I realized that the move was driven by function over form. Google was creating a visual and iconic language with the change. It was driven by the realities of maintaining an identity across a fragmentation of platforms and contexts. One can almost imagine the requirements document that had been put forth to the design team by the various Google engineers that decide these things – a logo that minimizes visual friction and cognitive load – scales well on all screens from nano to peta configurations (and eventually yocto to yotta)– acts as a visual wayfinder no matter where you are in the Google universe – and looks just a little whimsical (the last of these being a concession to the fine arts intern that was getting lattes and Red Bull for the group).

In the last month, Google has announced a massive amount of corporate change. Any other company would have taken the opportunity to mount a publicity event roughly the size of the Summer Olympics. But Google just quietly slipped these things into their weekly to do list. The logo dropped on a Tuesday. A Tuesday! Who the hell rebrands themselves on a Tuesday? There was no corporate push from Google other than a fairly muted blog post, but in researching this column, I found commentary on the change on pretty much every major media. And they weren’t just reporting the change. They were debating it, commenting on it, engaging in it. People gave a damn, either for or against.

That’s when I realized the significance of Google’s move. Because function was driving form – because engineers were dictating to designers – the branding had to be closer to its market. The rebranding was being done to make our lives easier. It wasn’t there to launch some misguided agency driven interpretation of an envisioned future, or slide Google into some strategic position in the marketplace. It was done because if wasn’t done, Google couldn’t do all the rest of the stuff it had to do. Google didn’t tell us what we should think of the move. They just did it and let us decide.

If function determines branding, then it’s living in the right place – the intersection between the market and the marketer. I’ve previously chastised Google for their lack of design thinking, but in this case, maybe they got it right. And maybe there’s a lesson there we all need to learn about the new rules of branding.

Who’s Who on the Adoption Curve

For me, the Adoption Curve of the Internet of Things is fascinating to observe. Take the PoloTech shirt from Ralph Lauren, for example. It’s a “smart shirt”. The skintight shirt measures your heart rate, how deeply you’re breathing, how stable you are and a host of other key biometrics. All this is sent to your smart phone. One will set you back a cool 300 bucks. But it’s probably not the price that will separate the adopters from the laggards in this case. In the case of the PoloTech shirt, as with many of the new pieces of wearable tech, it’s likely to be your level of fitness that determines which slope of the adoption curve you’ll end up on.

polotechIf you look at the advertising of the PoloTech, it’s clear who the target is: dudes with 0.3% body fat and ridiculously sculpted torsos who live on protein drinks and 4 hour workouts. Me? Not so much. The same is true, I suspect, for the vast majority of us. Unless we’re looking for a high tech girdle to both hold back and monitor the rate of expansion of our guts, I don’t think this particular smart shirt is in the immediate future for me.

As I said, much of the current generation of wearable technology is designed to tell us just how fit we are. Logic predicts that these devices should offer the greatest benefits to those who are the least fit. They, after all, have the most to gain. But that’s not who’s jumping the adoption curve. In my world, which is recreational cycling, the ones who are religiously tracking a zillion metrics are the ones who are already on top of the statistical heap. The reason? Technology has created an open market of bragging rights. Humans are naturally competitive. We like to know how we stack up against others. But we don’t bother keeping track until we’re reasonably sure we’re well above average. So, if you log onto Strava, where many cyclists upload their tech-tracked rides, you can find out just who is the “King of the Mountain” at your local version of the Alpe d’Huez.

This brings about an interesting variation on Roger’s Technology Adoption Curve. Wearable technology often means the generation of personal data. Therefore, an appetite for that data will accelerate the adoption of those respective technologies. We don’t mind being quantified, as long as that quantification paints us in a good light. We want to live in Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking and all the children are above average.

Adoption of new technologies, according to Rogers, depends on 5 factors: Relative Advantage, Compatibility, Complexity, Trialability and Observability. To this, Rogers added a sixth factor – the status conferring potential of a new innovation. Physical fitness, by its nature, begs to be quantified. Athletic ability and rankings go hand in hand. Status is literally the name of the game. Therefore, there is a natural affinity between wearable technologies that tracks physical performance and fitness.

This introduces some interesting patterns of adoption for new additions to the Internet of Things. Adoption will rapidly saturate certain niches of the population, but may take much longer to cross the chasm to the general masses. And the defining characteristics of the early adopters could be completely different in each case. As more and more things become “smart” the factors of adoption will become more fragmented and diverse. Early adopters of Coke’s Freestyle vending machine will have little in common with early adopters of the PoloTech shirt.

The absorption rate of technology into our lives has been increasing exponentially, seemingly in lock step with Moore’s Law. Every day, we are introduced to more and more things that have technology embedded in them. The advantages that this technology offers will depend on who is judging it. For some, a given technology will be a perfect fit. For others, it will be like trying to squeeze into a high tech shirt that makes us look like an overstuffed sausage.

Can Alphabet Spark Corporate Innovation?

As I was reading Walter Isaacson’s new book, The Innovators, which chronicles the rise of the digital revolution, something struck me. From Charles Babbage to Sergey Brin, the arc of digital innovation has gone through three very distinct stages.

In the beginning of the digital revolution, some 150 years ago, the innovator was the inventor and the gentleman scientist. They maintained and nurtured academic networks but often worked alone. The primary way they spread ideas was through publishing them in journals. If, as in the case of Charles Babbage and his Differential Engine, there was prototyping required, they would find a patron and then hire the people required to fabricate the prototype. They did this because they could. In this time, innovation was not a particularly resource-intensive endeavor.

But, as we moved into the 20th century, things changed. For the next 6 decades, Isaacson’s innovators tended to be found in one of three places: an university, a government funded lab or a corporate lab. Innovators were generally cogs in much bigger machines. Why? Because the scope of innovation had changed. It had become much more resource hungry. You needed the bulk of a Bell Labs in order to turn out a prototypical transistor.

One also gets the sense that many of the innovators Isaacson profiles were barely tolerated within these more corporate environments. Brilliance often comes coupled with abrasiveness as its dance partner. Many of the forebears of the digital revolution seem to be – not to put too fine a point on it – assholes. If you read between the lines you get the sense that both the innovator and their place of innovation would be immeasurably happier if their paths diverged. But, given the realities of the world at the time, they both needed each other.

Starting in the Sixties, a new breed of innovator emerged – the innovative entrepreneur. Almost without exception, they started within a larger organizational context, but soon found a way to break free and build a company around their innovativeness. Gordon Moore, Robert Noyce, Bill Hewlett, David Packard, Bill Gates, Paul Allen, Steve Jobs, Steve Wozniak, Larry Page and Sergey Brin – all took a new path to innovation. Thanks to the introduction of venture capital, innovation could become the road to riches.

This all becomes more than academically interesting in the light of Google’s announced corporate re-org. Essentially, they’re trying to buck the trend of innovative evolution. Page and Brin feel that innovation can still be contained within the boundaries of a corporate structure, as long as that structure is – well – innovative enough.

In theory, their logic looks sound. The biggest complaint I hear from current Googlers is their feeling of inconsequentiality within a massive organization. Breaking the big boat into a bunch of smaller life rafts could solve that problem. If you could somehow provide innovators with enough room to stretch their mental muscles and yet support them with the enormous resources Google/Alphabet has at their disposal, it seems like a no-lose scenario. Essentially, Alphabet should be able to provide a steroid powered incubator for innovation.

Yet, I remain skeptical. I suspect innovation may defy the best-laid corporate logic. You can sketch out an org-chart that seems like a stable platform for entrepreneurialism, but I think the entrepreneurs may still squeeze out through the cracks. Even if they’re not egotistical jerks, they are, by their very nature, individualistic. They defy authority. Their dreams are tough to contain. Where you see a supportive incubator, they see a restrictive cage. Corporations tend to excel at incremental innovation, but disruptive innovation comes from individuals who don’t play nice at company picnics. And that’s the type of innovation that Alphabet is betting on.

Alphabet is an interesting development in corporate structures. I hope it works. But I’m not sure you can harness entrepreneurialism because it, like information and the human spirit, yearns to be free.

Why Disruptive Change is Disruptive

There were a lot of responses to my last column, looking at why agencies and clients have hit the point of irreconcilable differences. Many of those responses were in agreement. In fact, none were in outright disagreement. This surprised me. A lot of Online Spin readers are people who work for very big agencies. I can only conclude that you elected to show your dissention through your silence.

But there were many that fell in the “Yeah-but” category:

Tiffany Lyman Otten wrote,

“This, like anything, is a sign simply that agencies must evolve – again.

Jill Montaigne adds,

“Yet, our own ongoing advertiser conversations confirm that rather than walking away from their traditional agency relationships, clients desperately need and want their agencies to evolve.”

David Vawter chimes in,

“As long as there is something to sell, people will be needed to create and produce the ideas that sell it.”

Agreed. But…

All of the above comments pointed to a new trend in the marketing ecosystem – that of a network of specialists, often in the form of micro-agencies, that appear to be finding niches to hang on to in the tidal wave of change that is sweeping over our industry.

I used to head one of these agencies. Our area of specialty was in user behavior with search interfaces. We did well in this niche. So well, in fact, that we were eventually acquired by a bigger agency. Bigger agencies are always vertically integrated. As such, they offer clients the one-stop shop model. They move to that model because that is the model they know. It is the model they are programmed to create. It is an organizational form that is dictated by their P&L targets. There is no operational wiggle-room here. They simply can’t become anything else.

Tiffany, Jill and several others all used the word evolve, like it is a magical formula for survival. But evolution is like a tree. Once your branch has been determined, you have to evolve outward from that branch. You can’t suddenly leap to another branch. If you’re a chimpanzee, you can’t suddenly decide one day to evolve into a budgie. You can evolve into a new type of chimpanzee, but you’re still a chimpanzee.

What does happen in evolution, however, is that the environment changes so drastically that the tree is dramatically pruned. Some branches are lopped off, so that new branches can sprout. This is called punctuated equilibrium, and, as I’ve said before, this is what I believe we’re going through right now in marketing. Yes, as David rightly notes, “As long as there is something to sell, people will be needed to create and produce the ideas that sell it.” It’s just that the form that takes may be dramatically different that what we currently know. It could be – correction – will be a marketing ecosystem that will be dominated by new species of marketers.

We tend to equate evolution with change – but evolution is a very specific kind of change. It’s change in response to environmental pressures. And while individual species can evolve, so can entire ecosystems. In that bigger picture, some species will emerge and thrive and others will disappear. What is happening to agencies now is just a ripple effect from a much bigger environmental change – analogous to a planet size asteroid slamming into the business and marketing ecosystem that evolved over the past two centuries.

Big agencies are the result of corporate evolution in the previous ecosystem. We are quick to take them to task for being slow, or dumb, or oblivious to client needs. And perhaps, in the new ecosystem, those things are true. But those are the characteristics of the species. No agency intends to be dumb or unresponsive. It’s just an evolutionary mismatch caused by massive disruption in the environment.

These things happen. It’s actually a good thing. Joseph Schumpeter called it Creative Destruction. But, as the name implies, it’s a zero sum game. For something to be created, something has to be destroyed.

Why Agencies and Clients are Calling It Quits

“Love on the Rocks – ain’t no surprise.”

Neil Diamond

In yesterday’s Online Spin, Maarten Albarda signaled the imminent break up of agencies and clients. Communication is close to zero. Fingers are being pointed. The whisper campaign has turned into outright hostility.

When relationships end, it can be because one of the parties is just not trying. But that isn’t the case here. I believe agencies are truly trying to patch things up. They are trying to understand their one-time life partner. They are desperately gobbling up niche shops and investing in technology in order to respark the flame. And the same is true, I believe, on the client side. They want to feel loved again by their agency of record.

I think what’s happening here is more akin to a break up that happens because circumstances have changed and the respective parties haven’t been able to keep up. This is more like high school sweethearts looking at each other 20 years hence and realizing that what once bonded them is long gone. And, if that’s true, it might be helpful to look back and see what happened.

The problem here is that the agency is a child of a marketplace that is rapidly disappearing. It is the result of the creation of the “Visible Hand” market. In his book of the same name, Alfred Chandler went to great lengths (over 600 pages) to chronicle the rise of the modern organization. The modern concept of an advertising agency was a by-product of that. Vertically integrated organizations came about to overcome some inherent inefficiencies in the market – notably the problem of geography and the lack of a functional marketplace network that came with rapid expansions in production and transportation capabilities. Essentially, markets grew too rapidly for Adam Smith’s “Invisible Hand” to be able to effectively balance through market dynamics. Organizations grew to mammoth size in order to provide internal efficiencies that allowed for greater profitability. You had to be big to be competitive. Agents of all types filled the gaps that were inevitable in a rapidly expanding market place. Essentially an agent bridged the gap between two or more separate nodes in a market network. They were the business equivalent of Mark Granovetter’s “weak tie.”

Through the 20th century advertising agents evolved into creative houses – which is where they hit their golden period. But why was this creativity needed? Essentially, agencies evolved when advances in production and distribution technologies weren’t enough to expand markets anymore. Suddenly, companies needed agencies to create demand in existing and identified markets through the sparking desire. This was the final hurray of the “visible hand” marketplace.

But the explosion of networking technologies and the reduction of transactional friction is turning the “visible hand” market back into the “invisible hand” market of Adam Smith – driven by the natural laws of marketplaces. The networks of the marketplace are becoming more connected than ever.

This is a highly dynamic, cyclical market. Straight line strategic planning doesn’t work here. And straight line strategic planning is a fundamental requirement of an agency relationship. That level of stasis is needed to overcome the inherent gaps in a third party relationship. Even under the best of circumstances, an arm’s length relationship can’t effectively “make sense” of the market environment and react quickly enough to maneuver in this marketplace. And, as Albarda points out, the client-agency relationship is far from healthy.

The ironic part is all of this is that what was once an agency’s strength – its position as a bridge between existing networks, has turned into its greatest vulnerability. Technology has essential removed the gaps in the market itself, allowing clients to become more effectively linked to natural networks of customers through emerging channels that are also increasingly mediated by technology. Middlemen are no longer needed. Those gaps have disappeared. But the gap that has always been there, between the agent and the client, not only still exists, but is widening with the breakdown of the relationship. Agencies are like bridges without a river to span.

If you read the common complaints from both sides in the presentations Albarda references , they all come from the ever-widening schism that has come from a drastic change in the market itself. Simply put, the market has evolved to the point where agency relationships are no longer tenable. We on the agency side keep saying we need to reinvent ourselves, but that’s like saying that a dog has to reinvent itself to become a fish – it’s just not in our DNA.