Category Archives: Corporate Strategy

Don’t Use Technology as an Excuse for Bad Customer Service

First published April 11, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

We all have our horror stories about online customer service. Just in the past two weeks, I added two more to my collection.

After placing an online order with Costco, I’ve had to wait (at this point) a week after the promised delivery date to get the stuff I bought and paid for. Three separate attempts to contact the shipper have been unsuccessful – the first two were simply ignored and the last one resulted in the shifting of blame to the local agent, who was supposed to call me to resolve the issue. That was 48 hours ago, and still no call. I suppose I could invest more of my time to harass them until they actually respond, but frankly, at this point, I just want to wash my hands of the whole transaction.

With the other example, the damage was done before I ever made the purchase, thank heavens. I was planning a trip using Kayak and sorted my booking options according to price. There, in the same format as the search results, was an ad from a well-known travel brand. I assumed the ad would offer me a rate that was comparable to the other results above and below it. After all, I had sorted by rate, so position should equate to price.  In fact, the ad offered a lower rate than the search result immediately above it. The ad worked – kind of. I did click it, only to find the promised offer evaporated and my actual rate was four times the price of the competitor. I quickly clicked back to Kayak to book with one of the competitors, having learned to ignore any further ads from this particular company.

Here’s the troubling thing. Most of you will say, “So what?” These two stories are not that unusual. We’ve come to accept this level of service online as the norm. The online market place is SNAFU – in it ‘s most literal sense. My question is, why? Why do sellers feel they can get away with this, and, what’s more important, why do we, the customer, accept it as the new normal?

Here’s my hypothesis. We accept it because we can’t look the offending party in the eye. They do it because they don’t have to answer for it face to face. Anonymity and arm’s length transactions prevent crappy business-people and their practices from being held accountable.

We humans have a long list of subtle and not so subtle things we can do to ensure fairness in transactions – but they all evolved to work face to face. Over our history, we have evolved many social “governors” that play on our emotions. In general, they work pretty well, as long as we’re all in the same room, tent, hut, tribal circle or canoe. But these governors, 10 thousand generations in the making, are being rendered ineffective by technology in the space of just one generation. We’re hiding behind a computer screen because we can.

I’m sure the customer service agent at the courier company would think twice about promising me a shipment on a certain day – a promise she had no intention of keeping – if she was making that promise to my face and she knew I’d be back the day after the parcel failed to show up.

And I find it hard to imagine that a hotel, airline or car rental firm would offer me a rate that was totally fictitious if they knew the actual cost was going to be three or four times what they offered. At least, I find it hard to imagine they’d do that if I was standing across the counter from them at the time.

So why, I ask again, do we settle for less in our arm’s length transactions? I believe every online company should use the BIP rule of thumb – do business as if you’re doing Business In Person. Assume you’re looking at the person you’re dealing with in the eye. Treat them as if they’re your next-door neighbor. Before you screw them over, assume you’ll have to say “Good morning” every day as you hop in your car and go to work.

You have a conscience for a reason – use it for what it was intended for.

Seperating the Strategic Signal from the Tactical Noise in Marketing

First published April 4, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

It’s somewhat ironic that, as a die-hard Darwinist, I find myself in the position of defending strategy against the onslaught of Big Data. Since my initial column on this subject a few months ago, I’ve been diving deeper into this topic.

Here’s the irony.

Embracing Big Data is essentially embracing a Darwinist approach to marketing.  It resists taking a top-down approach (aka strategy) by using data feedback to enforce evolution of your marketing program. It makes marketing “antifragile,” in the words of Nassim Nicholas Taleb. In theory, it uses disorder, mistakes and unexpected events to continually improve marketing.

Embracing strategy — at least my suggested Bayesian approach to strategy — would be akin to embracing intelligent design. It defines what an expected outcome should be, then starts defining paths to get there. But it does this in the full realization that those paths will continually shift and change. In fact, it sets up the framework to enable this strategic fluidity. It still uses “Big Data,” but puts it in the context of “Big Testing” (courtesy Scott Brinker).

To remove the strategy from the equation, as some suggest, would be to leave your marketing subject to random chance. Undoubtedly, given perfect feedback and the ability to quickly adapt using that feedback, marketing could improve continually. After all, we evolved in just such an environment and we’re pretty complex organisms.  But it’s hard to argue that a designer would have designed such flaws as our pharynx, which is used both for eating and breathing, leading to a drastically higher risk of choking; our spinal column, which tends to become misaligned in a significant portion of the population; or the fact that our retinas are “inside out.”

Big Data also requires separating “signal” from “noise” in the data. But without a strategic framework, what is the signal and what is the noise? Which of the datum do you pay attention to, and which do you ignore?

Here’s an even bigger question. What constitutes success and failure in your marketing program? Who sets these criteria? In nature, it’s pretty simple. Success is defined by genetic propagation. But it’s not so clear-cut in marketing. Success needs to align to some commonly understood objectives, and these objectives should be enshrined in — you guessed it, your strategy.

I believe that if  “intelligent designers” are available, why not use them? And I would hope that most marketing executives should fit the bill. As long as strategy includes a rigorous testing methodology and honest feedback does not fall victim to egotistical opinions and “yes speak” (which is a huge caveat, and a topic too big to tackle here), a program infused with strategy should outperform one left to chance.

But what about Taleb’s “Black Swans”? He argues that by providing “top down” direction, leading to interventionism, you tend to make systems fragile. In trying to smooth out the ups and downs of the environment, you build in limitations and inflexibility. You lose the ability to deal with a Black Swan, that unexpected occurrence that falls outside of your predictive horizon.

It’s a valid point. I believe that Black Swans have to be expected, but should not dictate your strategy. By their very nature, they may never happen. And if they do, they will be infrequent. If your strategy meets a Black Swan head on, a Bayesian approach should come with the humility to realize that the rules have changed, necessitating a corresponding change in strategy. But it would be a mistake to abandon strategy completely based on a “what-if.”

Evolving on the Fly: Growth Hackers, Agile Marketers, Bayesian Strategists and CMTs

First published January 10, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

If you are a Darwinist, one of the questions you may have asked yourself is, on what timescale does evolution play out? Is it a long, gradual development of new and differentiated species? Or, as Stephen Jay Gould and Niles Eldridge believe, does evolution happen in short spurts, separated by long periods of stasis (their theory is called Punctuated Equilibrium)?

The next question you might ask is, what does this have to do with marketing?

I venture to say: everything. Bear with me.

If you believe, as I believe, that evolution happens in spurts, then it’s important to understand what causes those spurts. Among many contentious alternatives, one that seems to be more commonly accepted is a sudden dramatic change in what evolutionists call the adaptive landscape.  This is the real world that species must adapt to in order to survive. “Flat” landscapes create an even playing field for all species to survive, resulting in relative stasis. “Rugged” landscapes significantly favor some species over others, accelerating evolution dramatically. “Rugged” landscapes generally emerge after some big event, like a catastrophe.

I propose that marketing is currently a very rugged adaptive landscape. Some marketers are going to thrive, and others are going to disappear from the face of the earth. We’re already seeing exciting new species emerge.

Growth Hackers

If you haven’t heard about them, Growth Hackers are “the next big thing,” at least, according to Fast Company.  A post by Andrew Chen is referenced, where he explains, “Growth hackers are a hybrid of marketer and coder, one who looks at the traditional question of ‘How do I get customers for my product?’ and answers with A/B tests, landing pages, viral factor, email deliverability, and Open Graph.” Think of hackers as tech-savvy marketing guerillas. They move fast, exploit technical opportunities, and track and test everything.

Agile Marketers

According to the Agile Marketing Manifesto, this offshoot of Agile Development enshrines customer focus, validated learning, iterative approaches, flexibility and learning from our mistakes. In the words of my friend Mike Moran, it’s learning how to “Do It Wrong Quickly.” As opposed to Growth Hackers, which is more of a job description, Agile Marketing is a corporate philosophy that encourages (demands) rapid evolution. It embraces the realities of a “rugged” adaptive landscape.

Bayesian Strategists

This was top of mind after my last column, so I added this in as my contribution. As stated last week, I envision strategic thinking to become less of a “shot in the dark” and more of a “testable hypothesis.”  I would never want to see “Big Thinking” give way to “Big Data,” but I believe the two can co-exist, and co-evolve, quite nicely.

Chief Marketing Technologist

Finally, under whose watch does all of this fall? If you believe Scott Brinker (which I invariably do — he’s from Boston and he’s “wicked smaaht”) it falls quit nicely into the job description of the Chief Marketing Technologist. I’ll let him explain in his own words: “A chief marketing technologist (CMT) is the person responsible for leading an organization’s marketing technology.”

A CMT sits astride the rapidly colliding worlds of marketing and technology and makes sure an organization does not fall prey to the all-too-common trap of having these overseen by two completely separate (and often outrightly hostile) departments.

A CMT understands the following realities:

Everything is Marketing

Everything is Changing

Everyone Must Be Agile

In the words of Peter Drucker, “Business has only two basic functions: marketing and innovation.” In today’s world, those two functions are inextricably linked. As a marketer, you have two choices: adapt and survive, or stand still and die. The ones who do the first the best will emerge at the top of the marketing food chain.

The Evolution of Strategy

First published January 3, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Last week I asked the question, “Will Big Data Replace Strategic Thinking?”  Many of you answered, with a ratio splitting approximately two for one on the side of thinking. But, said fellow Search Insider Ryan Deshazer, “Not so fast! Go beyond the rebuttal!”

I agree with my friend Ryan. This is not a simple either/or answer. We  (or at least 66% of us) may agree that models and datasets, no matter how good they are, can’t replace thinking. But we can’t dismiss the importance of them,either. Strategy will change, and data will be a massive driver in that change.

Both the Harvard Business Review and the New York Times have recent posts on the subject. In HBR, Justin Fox tells of a presentation by Vivek Ranadive, who said, “I believe that math is trumping science. What I mean by that is you don’t really have to know why, you just have to know that if a and b happen, c will happen.”

He further speculates that U.S. monetary policy might do better being guided by an algorithm rather than bankers: “The fact is, you can look at information in real time, and you can make minute adjustments, and you can build a closed-loop system, where you continuously change and adjust, and you make no mistakes, because you’re picking up signals all the time, and you can adjust.”

The Times’ Steve Lohr also talks about the recent enthusiasm for a quantitative approach to management, evangelized by Erik Brynjolfsson, Director of the MIT Center for Digital Business, who says Big Data will “replace ideas, paradigms, organizations and ways of thinking about the world.”

However, Lohr and Fox (who wrote the excellent book, “The Myth of the Rational Market”) caution about the oversimplifications inherent in modeling. Take, for example, some of the potentially flawed assumptions in Ranadive’s version of an algorithmically driven monetary policy:

–       Something as complex as monetary policy can be contained in a closed loop system

–       The past can reliably predict the future

–       If it doesn’t — and things do head into uncharted territory, — you’ll be able to “tweak” things into place as new information becomes available.

Fox uses the analogy of a Landing Page A/B (or multivariate) test as an example of the new quantitative approach to the world. In theory, page design could be left to a totally automated and testable process, where real-time feedback from users eventually decides the optimal layout. It sounds good in theory, but here’s the problem with this approach to marketing: You can’t test what you don’t think of. The efficacy of testing depends on the variables you choose to test. And that requires some thinking. Without a solid hypothesis based on a strategic view of the situation, you can quickly go down a rabbit hole of optimizing for the wrong things.

For example, most heavily tested landing pages I’ve seen all reach the same eventual destination: a page optimized for one definition of a conversion. Typically this would be the placement of an order or the submission of a form. There will be reams of data showing why this is the optimal variation. But what about all the prospects that hit that page for which the one offered conversion wasn’t the right choice? How do they get captured in the data? Did anyone even think to include them in the things to test for?

Fox offers a hybrid view of strategic management that more closely aligns with where I see this all going — call it Bayesian Strategic management. Traditional qualitative strategic thinking is required to set the hypothetical view of possible outcomes, but then we apply a quantitative rigor to measure, test and adjust based on the data we collect. This treads the line between the polarities of responses gathered by last week’s column – it puts the “strategic” horse before the “big data” cart. More importantly, it holds our strategic view accountable to the data. A strategy becomes a hypothesis to be tested.

One final thought. Whether we’re talking about Ranadive’s utopian (or dystopian?) vision of a data driven world or any of the other Big Data evangelists, there seems to be one assumption that I believe is fundamentally flawed, or at least, overly optimistic: that human behaviors can be adequately contained in a predictable, rational, controlled closed loop system. When it comes to understanding human behavior, the capabilities of our own brain far outstrip any algorithmically driven model ever created — yet we still get it wrong all the time.

If Big Data could really reliably predict human behaviors, do you think we’d be in financial situation we are now?

Will Big Data Replace Strategy?

First published December 27, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Anyone who knows me knows I love strategy. I have railed incessantly about our overreliance on tactical execution and our overlooking of the strategy that should guide said execution. So imagine my discomfort this past week when, in the midst of my following up on the McLuhan theme of my last column, I ran into a tidbit from Ray Rivera, via Forbes, that speculated that strategic management might becoming obsolescent.

Here’s an excerpt: As amounts of data approaching entire populations become available, models become less predictive and more descriptive. As inference becomes obsolete, management methods that rely on it will likely be affected. A likely casualty is strategic management, which attempts to map out the best course of action while factoring in constraints. Classic business strategy (e.g., the five forces) is especially vulnerable to losing the relevance it accumulated over several decades.

The crux of this is the obsolescence of inference. Humans have historically needed to infer to compensate for imperfect information. We couldn’t know everything with certainty, so we had to draw conclusions from the information we did have. The bigger the gap, the greater the need for inference. And, like most things that define us, the ability to infer was sprinkled through our population in a bell-curved standard distribution. We all have the ability to fill in the gaps through inference, but some of us are much better at it than others.

The author of this post speculates that as we get better and more complete information, it will become less important to fill in the gaps to set a path for the future — and more important to act quickly on what we know, correcting our course in real time: With access to comprehensive data sets and an ability to leave no stone unturned, execution becomes the most troublesome business uncertainty. Successful adaptation to changing conditions will drive competitive advantage more than superior planning.

Now, just in case you’re wondering, I don’t agree with the premise, but there is considerable merit to Rivera’s hypothesis, so let’s consider it using a fairly accessible analogy: the driving of a car. If we’re driving to a destination where we’ve never been before, and we don’t know what we’ll encounter en route, we need a strategy. We need to know the general direction, we need a high-level understanding of the available routes, we need to know what an acceptable period of time would be to reach our destination, and we need some basic strategic guidelines to deal with the unexpected – for example, if a primary route is clogged with traffic, we will find an alternative route using secondary roads. These are all tools we use to help us infer what the best way to get from point A to B might be.

But what if we have a GPS that has access to real-time traffic information and can automatically plot the best available route? Given the analogous scenario, this is as close to perfect information at we’re likely to get. We no longer need a strategy. All we need to do is follow the provided directions and drive. No inference is required. The gaps are filled by the data we have available to us.

So far, so good. But here is the primary reason why I believe strategic thinking is in no danger of expiring anytime soon. If strategy was only about inference, I might agree with Rivera’s take (by he way, he’s from SAP, so he may have a vested interest in promoting the wonders of Big Data).

However, I believe that interpretation and synthesis are much more important outcome of strategy.  The drawback of data is that it needs to be put into a context to make it useful.  Unlike traffic jams and roadways, which tend to be pretty concrete concepts (stop and go, left or right — and yes, I used the pun intentionally), business is a much more abstract beast. One can measure performance indicators ad nauseam, but there should be some framework to give them meaning. We can’t just count trees (or, in the era of Big Data, the number of leaves per limb per tree). We need to recognize a forest when we see one.

Interpretation is one advantage, but synthesis is the true gold that strategic thinking yields. Data tends to live in silos. Metrics tend to be analyzed in homogenous segments (for example, Web stats, productivity yields, efficiency KPIs). True strategy can bring disparate threads together and create opportunities where none existed before. Here, strategy is not about filling the gaps in the information you have, it’s about using that information in new ways to create something remarkable.

I disagree most vehemently with Rivera when he says: While not disappearing altogether, strategy is likely to combine with execution to become a single business function.

I’ve been working in this business for going on three decades now. In all that time, I have rarely seen strategy and execution combine successfully in a single function (or, for that matter, a single person). They are two totally different ways of thinking, relying on two different skill sets. They are both required, but I don’t believe they can be combined.

Strategy is that intimately and essentially human place where business is not simply science, but becomes art. It is driven by intuition and vision. And I, for one, am not looking forward to the day where it becomes obsolescent.

Google’s Personality Crisis

First published November 15, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

“Be not afraid of marketing: some are born marketers, some achieve marketing, and some have marketing thrust upon them.” — (paraphrased from) William Shakespeare.

Google has never been comfortable as a marketing company. The only reason it became a marketing company (or worse, a media company) is because it happened to stumble on the single most effective marketing channel of all time and had to figure out some way to monetize it. Even then, Adwords wasn’t Google’s idea, but Goto’s (which became Overture, which became Yahoo). Google just stole it and tweaked it a little. Because that’s what engineers do. And that’s what Google is, first a foremost, a company of engineers. Google has worn its marketing mantle the same way I wear a Speedo: uncomfortably (and yes, a little incongruously).

Anytime Google has tried to embrace its inner “marketingness,” the results have ranged from vaguely boring to disastrous. Asking Google to become a marketer is kind of like asking Stephen Hawkins to enter a wet T-shirt content — a terrible waste of cranial processing power (and frankly, not something I’d particularly want to see).

Google had the questionable luck to become fabulously profitable as a marketer, simply because it created a utility that just happened to capture eyeballs when they were attached to wallets ready to spring into action. It was like stealing candy from a baby. But then the hard cold reality hit home. Google became a public company, which meant it had a lot of shareholders who fully expected the stroke of fate that poured money into Google’s coffers to continue. So the company had to find other marketing channels, which in turn meant its strategists had to get over their distaste of marketing in general.

So they, being resolutely Googlish, decided to reinvent marketing to make it less, well, ”markety.” They would introduce their idea of marketing, infused with a pure geekish streak of scalability, market efficiency and engineering precision. I think we all know how that turned out, as the echoes of Google TV, Google Print and Google Radio still reverberate in the Hall of Stupendously Spectacular Failures.

Face it Google. You don’t get marketing, so stop trying. Step away from the bling and tchotchkes. Retreat to the warm embrace of your slide rules and HP scientific calculators.

But, whether it gets marketing or not, Google’s dilemma remains. Its revenues depend on marketing. And marketing revenues can be staggeringly profitable, yet notoriously fickle. It’s all about eyeballs, preferably with wallets attached. Where can Google get more of the same, if not from marketing?

If we break this down, we can assume a few things to be true. Eyeballs will increasingly turn their gaze online, at some screen or another. Also, those eyeballs will be looking for ever-more-relevant stuff to do something with. Finally, if that “stuff” has something to do with buying things, then there’s a good opportunity for companies who market those things.

Let’s look at what Google is good at. Google is good — make that great — at engineering scalable, efficient, redundant systems.  Google strategists believe that if they could totally remove human “noise” from the equation, the world would be a much happier place. It’s Nirvana as envisioned by Stanley Kubrick: a little sterile, but oh-so-dependable.

That skill set is a horrible match for marketers, where empathy is kind of important. But it’s a great match for utility providers. At its roots, that’s what Google was, right from the first inception of “Backrub” running surreptitiously from a Stanford dorm room: it was a tool.

Google has tentatively ventured down this path — with WiFi access, Android, and, most recently, by rolling out high-speed Internet access for Google TV subscribers. But in each of those cases, the utility was not the end goal – it was to provide a platform for more marketing.

At what point will Google principals realize they suck at marketing, but are damned good at providing the underlying infrastructure required? It’s not as sexy, or as profitable, but as Google approaches middle age, isn’t it time they started getting comfortable in their own skin?

The Swapping of the Old “Middle” for the New

First published November 8, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

For the past several columns, I’ve been talking about disintermediation. My hypothesis is that technology is driving a general disintermediation of the marketplace (well, it’s not really my hypothesis — it’s a pretty commonly held view) and is eliminating a vast “middle” infrastructure that has accounted for much of the economic activity of the past several decades. It’s a massive shift (read “disruption”) in the market that will play out over the next several years.

But every good hypothesis must stand up to challenge, and an interesting one came from a recent article in Slate, which talks about the growth of a brand new kind of “gatekeeper,” the new “bots” that crawl the Web and filter (or, in some cases, generate) content based on a preset algorithm. These bots can crawl blog posts, pinpointing spam and malicious posts so they can be removed. The sophistication is impressive, as the most advanced of these tap into the social graph to learn, in real time, the context of posts so it can make nuanced judgment calls about what is and isn’t spam.

But these bots don’t simply patrol the online frontier, they also contribute to it. They can generate automated social content based on pre-identified themes. In other words, they can become propaganda generators. So now we have a new layer of “middle” that acts both as censor and propagandist. Have we gained anything here?

The key concept here is one of control. The “middle” used to control both ends of the market. It did so because it controlled the bridge between the producers and consumers.  This was control in every sense: control of the flow of finance, control of the physical market itself, and control of communication.

With disintermediation, direct connections are being built between producers and consumers. With this comes a redefinition of control. In terms of financial control, disintermediation should (theoretically) produce a more efficient marketplace, resulting in more profit for producers and better prices for consumers. That drastically oversimplifies the pain involved in getting to a more efficient marketplace, but you get the idea.  In this case, the only loser is the middle, so there’s no real incentive for the producers or consumers to ensure its survival.

Disintermediation of the physical market essentially works itself out. If the product needs a face-to-face representative, the middle will survive. If not, then we’ll figure out how to facilitate the sale online, and you can expect to see a lot of UPS vans in your neighborhood. We consumers may mourn the loss of a “face” in some segments of our marketplace, but we’ll get over it.

When it comes to control of communication, it’s more difficult to crystal-ball what might happen in the future. This area is also where new gatekeepers are most likely to appear.

Communication between marketers and the market used to be tightly channeled and controlled by the “middle.” It also used to flow in essentially one direction – from the marketer to the market. It was always very difficult for true communication to flow the other way.

But now, content is sprouting everywhere and becomes publicly accessible through a multitude of online touch points. It could soon become overwhelming to navigate through, both for consumers and producers. In this case, arguably, the middle served a very real service to both producers and consumers. The middle could edit communication, saving us from wading through a mountain of content to get what we were looking for.  It could also ensure that the messages producers wanted to get to the market were effectively delivered. The channels were under the control of the marketplace. For this reason, both marketers and the market may be reluctant to see disintermediation when it comes to communication.

The new gatekeepers, such as those featured in the Slate article, seem to serve both ends of the market. They help consumers access higher quality information by weeding out spam and objectionable content. And they help producers exercise some degree of control over negative content generated by the marketplace. In the absence of tight control of channels, a concept that’s gone the way of the dodo, this scalable, automated gatekeeper seems to serve a purpose.

If the need is great enough on both sides of the market, we are likely to find a new “middle” emerge: an “infomediary,” to use the term coined by John Hagel, Marc Singer and Jeffrey Rayport. According to this definition of the middle, Google emerges as the biggest of the “infomediaries.”

The question is, how much control are we willing to give this new evolution of the middle? In return for hacking some semblance of sanity out of the chaos that is an unmediated information marketplace, how much are we willing to pay in return? And, where does this control (and with it, the associated power) now live?  Who owns the new gatekeepers?  And who are those gatekeepers accountable to?

Disintermediation of a New, More Connected World

First published November 1, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

On Monday, one of the byproducts of disintermediation hit me with the force of, well — a hurricane, to be exact. We are more connected globally than ever before.

This Monday and Tuesday, three different online services I use went down because of Sandy. They all had data centers on the East Coast.

Disintermediation means centralization, which means that we will have more contact with people and businesses that spread across the globe.

The laptop I’m writing this column on (a MacBook Pro) was recently ordered from Apple. I was somewhat amazed to see the journey it took on its way to me. It left a factory in China, spent a day in Shanghai, then passed through Osaka, Japan on its way to Anchorage, Ala. From there it was on to Louisville, Ky. (ironically, the flight path probably went right over my house), then back to Seattle, Vancouver and then to my front door. If my laptop were a car, I would have refused delivery – it already had a full year’s worth of miles on it before I even got to use it.

A disintermediated world means a more globally reliant world. We depend on assembly factories in Taiyuan (China), chip factories in Yamaguchi (Japan), call centers in Pune (India), R&D labs in Hagenberg (Austria), industrial designers in Canberra (Australia) and yes, data centers in lower Manhattan. When workers brawl, tsunamis hit, labor strikes occur and tropical storms blow ashore, even though we’re thousands of miles away, we feel the impact. We no longer just rely on our neighbors, because the world is now our neighborhood.

This adds a few new wrinkles to the impacts of disintermediation, both positive and negative.

On the negative side, as we saw forcefully demonstrated this week, is the realization that our connected markets are more fragile than ever. As production becomes concentrated due to various global advantages, it is more vulnerable to single-point failures. One missing link and entire networks of co-dependent businesses go down. This lack of redundancy will probably be corrected in time, but for now, it’s what we have to live with.

But, on the positive side, our new connectedness also means we have to have interest in the well being of people that would have been out of our scope of consciousness just a mere decade ago. We care about the plight of the average worker at Foxconn, if for no other reason than it will delay the shipment of our new Mac. I exaggerate here (I hope we’re not that blasé about human rights in China) to make a point: when we have a personal stake in something, we care more. When you depend on someone for something important to you, you tend to treat them with more consideration. Thomas Friedman, in his book “The World is Flat,” called it the Dell Theory of Conflict Prevention:

“The Dell Theory stipulates: No two countries that are both part of a major global supply chain, like Dell’s, will ever fight a war against each other as long as they are both part of the same global supply chain.”

To all of you who weathered the storm, just know that you’re not alone in this. We depend on you – so, in turn, feel free to depend on us.

The Balancing of Market Information

First published October 25, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

In my three previous columns on disintermediation, I made a rather large assumption: that the market will continue to see a balancing of information available both to buyers and sellers. As this information becomes more available, the need for the “middle” will decrease.

Information Asymmetry Defined

Let’s begin by exploring the concept of information asymmetry, courtesy of George Akerlof, Michael Spence and Joseph Stiglitz.  In markets where access to information is unbalanced, bad things can happen.

If the buyer has more information than the seller, then we can have something called adverse selection. Take life and health insurance, for example. Smokers (on the average) get sick more often and die younger than non-smokers. If an insurance company has 50% of policyholders who are smokers, and 50% who aren’t, but the company is not allowed to know which is which, it has a problem with adverse selection. It will lose money on the smokers so it will increase rates across the board. The problem is that non-smokers, who don’t use insurance as much, will get angry and may cancel their policy. This will mean the “book of business” will become even less profitable, driving rates even higher.   The solution, which we all know, is simple: Ask policy applicants if they smoke. Imperfect information is thus balanced out.

If the seller has more information than the buyer, then we have a “market for lemons” (the name of Akerlof’s paper). Here,  buyers are  assuming risk in a purchase without knowingly accepting that risk, because they’re unaware of the problems that the seller knows exists. Think about buying a used car, without the benefit of an inspection, past maintenance records or any type of independent certification. All you know is what you can see by looking at the car on the lot. The seller, on the other hand, knows the exact mechanical condition of the car. This factor tends to drive down the prices of all products –even the good ones — in the market, because buyers assume quality will be suspect. The balancing of information in this case helps eliminates the lemons and has the long-term effect of improving the average quality of all products on the market.

Getting to Know You…

These two forces — the need for sellers to know more about their buyers, and the need for buyers to know more about what they’re buying — are driving a tremendous amount of information-gathering and dissemination. On the seller’s side, behavioral tracking and customer screening are giving companies an intimate glimpse into our personal lives. On the buyer’s side, access to consumer reviews, third-party evaluations and buyer forums are helping us steer clear of lemons. Both are being facilitated through technology.

But how does disintermediation impact information asymmetry, or vice versa?

If we didn’t have adequate information, we needed some other safeguard against being taken advantage of. So, failing a rational answer to this particular market dilemma, we found an irrational one: We relied on gut instinct.

Relying on Relationships

If we had to place our trust in someone, it had to be someone we could look in the eye during the transaction. The middle was composed of individuals who acted as the face of the market. Because they lived in the same communities as their customers, went to the same churches, and had kids that went to the same schools, they had to respect their markets. If they didn’t, they’d be run out of town. Often, their loyalties were also in the middle, balanced somewhere between their suppliers and their customers.

In the absence of perfect information, we relied on relationships. Now, as information improves, we still want relationships, because that’s what we’ve come to expect. We want the best of both worlds.

Will Customer Service Disappear with the Elimination of the “Middle”?

First published October 18, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

In response to my original column on disintermediation, Joel Snyder worried about the impact on customer service: The worst casualty is relationships and people skills. As consumers circumvent middlemen, they become harder to deal with. As merchants become more automated, customer service people have less power and less skills (and lower pay).

Cece Forrester agreed: Disintermediation doesn’t just let consumers be rude. It also lets organizations treat their customers rudely.

So, is rudeness an inevitable byproduct of disintermediation?

Rediscovering the Balance between Personalization and Automation

Technology introduces efficiency. It streamlines the “noise” and marketplace friction that comes with human interactions. But with that “noise” comes all the warm and fuzzy aspects of being human. It’s what both Joel and Cece fear may be lost with disintermediation. I, however, have a different view.

Shifts in human behavior don’t typically happen incrementally, settling gently into the new norm. They swing like a pendulum, going too far one way, then the other, before stability is reached. Some force — in this case, new technological capabilities — triggers the change. As society moves, the force, plus momentum, moves too far in one direction, which triggers an opposing force which pushes back against the trend. Eventually, balance is reached.

A Redefinition of Relationships

In this case, the opposing force will be our need for those human factors. Disintermediation won’t kill relationships. But it will force a redefinition of relationships. The challenge here is that existing market relationships were all tied to the “Middle,” which served as the bridge between producers and consumers. Because the Middle owned the end connection with the customer, it formed the relationships that currently exist. Now, as anyone who has experienced bad customer service will tell you, some who lived in the Middle were much better at relationships than others. Joel and Cece may be guilty of looking at our current paradigm through rose-colored glasses. I have encountered plenty of rudeness even with the Middle firmly in place.

But it’s also true that producers, who suddenly find themselves directly connected with their markets, have little experience in forming and maintaining these relationships. However, the market will eventually dictate new expectations for customer service, and producers will have to meet those expectations. One disintermediator, Zappos, figured that out very early in the game.

Ironically, disintermediation will ultimately be good for relationships. Feedback loops are being shortened. Technology is improving our ability to know exactly what our customers think about us. We’re actually returning to a much more intimate marketplace, enabled through technology. Producers are quickly educating themselves on how to create and maintain good virtual relationships. They can’t eliminate customer service, because we, the market, won’t let them. It will take a bit for us to find the new normal, but I venture to say that wherever we find it, we’ll end up in a better place than we are today.