Category Archives: Rants

Every so often I have to blow off steam. These are the results

Maybe We Need More Skin in the Game

First published August 15, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

I think our world, — or, more specifically, our marketplace — is a little too abstract. We — and by we, I mean the marketers, the suppliers to the market — live too far removed from the market itself: the consumers of the supplied goods.

It’s a point touched on by Nassim Nicholas Taleb in his most recent book, “Antifragile.” Marketers and manufacturers, he suggests, don’t have enough skin in the game to keep them honest. They’re too far removed from accountability. There are too many protective buffers between them and the consequences of their actions.

The law is supposed to provide the accountability — but let’s face it, when it comes to enforcing accountability in the marketplace, we’re a long way from the Code of Hammurabi (one of the first legal codes known), where sloppy workmanship enacted a pretty definite penalty: If a builder has built a house for a man, and has not made his work sound, and the house he built has fallen, and caused the death of its owner, that builder shall be put to death.

Or, consider if the actions of the captain of the Exxon Valdez would have been different if he would have been answerable to a law like this: If a man has hired a boat and boatman, and loaded it with corn, wool, oil, or dates, or whatever it be, and the boatman has been careless, and sunk the boat, or lost what is in it, the boatman shall restore the boat which he sank, and whatever he lost that was in it.

The world was a smaller and more intimate place back then. You couldn’t hide behind corporate lawyers, malpractice insurance and legal loopholes. If you screwed up, chances are you’d lose an eye, a hand or even your life. If you built a bridge that collapsed, you might as well have been under the bridge, because your fate would be the same.

Now, I’m not sure we’re ready to return to the brutal simplicity of an “eye for an eye” legal code, but it does bring up a rather thorny issue: If there are little to no consequences for shoddy or unethical work, what keeps us honest? There’s nothing like skin in the game to provide some pretty compelling motivation for ethical business practices. And there’s nothing like a consequence-free pass to encourage fast and loose corporate behavior.

The good news, I suppose, is that technology is once again making the world a little more intimate. McLuhan’s Global Village is coming to pass, and the unethical of the world are increasingly being held accountable for their actions. In fact, the speed at which this is happening is confounding the legal systems of many a nation, as vigilantism and frontier justice are increasingly springing up, unchecked by due process and judicial oversight.

I avoid trying to predict the future, but fairness and accountability are hardwired into us, so I suspect that as technology allows us to identify those responsible in the most egregious cases, we will be moved to demand action. We will force the market to have more skin in the game, as our opinions and beliefs, in aggregate, will define that market.

The No BS Rule

First published in Mediapost’s Search Insider – April 18, 2013

I have wasted a significant portion of my life dealing with BS. Mea culpa. I decided to become a marketer and it just comes with the territory. But here’s the thing. Maybe it’s cause I’m older, maybe it’s because I’m just getting grumpier, but I’m getting less and less tolerant of BS.

After one particular day when the scent of BS hung heavy in the air, I wondered, why? Why do we have to put up with BS anyway?  What would my job be like sans-BS? Trust me, it’s a liberating mental exercise. Try it.

How often, each and every day, do you have to exert extra effort, take on extra tasks, send extra emails, or have extra meetings, just because of BS? And here’s the thing: none of this extra work is productive. Zero. Zilch. It’s all just spinning our wheels, trying to move forward and get over the mound of BS in our way. In fact, in most cases, BS puts us in reverse. We lose ground because of it. I have no empirical evidence on this, but I suspect that a workplace would be at least 10 times more efficient and effective without BS.

In 2004 Bob Sutton had an epiphany when he wrote the original No Asshole Rule in the Harvest Business Review. He posed a bold question: What could a workplace be like without assholes? I pose a follow-up question: How much more productive could we be if we eliminated BS?

I’m not sure if it’s a hard and fast rule, but it seems that the degree of BS corresponds directly to the size of the company. Many small start-ups have little to no operational BS (depending on the personalities involved). In huge companies, BS is the operational norm. I think BS is naturally present in any random group of people, but at some point in a company’s growth curve, BS seems to move from being an irritation to be eradicated to being a foundational rule of engagement. BS begets BS.

All BS is not the same. Some varieties are more toxic than other. Here are some of the common types I’ve encountered.

Cover-My-Butt BS: “I screwed up and I don’t want to admit it” 

This is one of the most common varieties of BS. Tremendous amounts of corporate effort are expending covering collective butts.  Look, if you suck on a consistent basis, I should be able to say you suck. Even if you’re my boss.

Incompetence is poison for an organization. And, if I am competent but still screwed up, I should be in an environment where I’m not afraid of being crucified for my mistake. Everyone screws up.  Screwing up and incompetence is not necessarily the same thing. Risk-takers, visionaries and leaders have learned the importance of developing a disciplined approach to screwing up.

Stop using BS to cover incompetence. It sucks the energy out of any organization.

I’m Smarter/Bigger/More Powerful Than You BS

This type of BS is particularly nefarious, because it strikes at the upper levels of the organization. Executives generate huge clouds of intentional BS waging turf wars to establish corporate lines of power. Egos and BS are positively correlated in the workplace. The dangerous thing about this is that generally the executive making the call is so far removed from the situation that she has no perspective on it. But that doesn’t stop the BS. You might as well have two rams butting it out head to head in the boardroom. It’s just as productive and a lot more thrilling to watch.

This strain of BS can stop corporate strategy in its tracks. It usually comes disguised as mission statements, vision statements, core values or other BS-laden documents that have zero relevance to the real world. Don’t get me wrong — I’m a big believer in true corporate strategy, but 99% of what passes for this is pure BS.  It accomplishes nothing.

Throw it out and start over with something real.

I Hate Change/I Don’t Want To Do This BS

The final type of BS is more common on the front lines.  The cause is simple. We just don’t want to do something. So we create a BS screen to hide the real reason why we don’t want to do it. This is usually tied to one of the two previous types of BS. Either we’re lazy and/or incompetent and don’t want to do the thing (see Cover My Butt BS) or a boss is forcing us to do something stupid (I’m Smarter/Bigger/More Powerful than You BS). Either way, the natural reaction is to start BSing.

I believe we should all start actively seeking out BS and calling people on it. It shouldn’t be tolerated in the workplace. And I realize that it’s human nature. You can’t change human nature, right? Well, having sex is pretty natural too, and we don’t tolerate open orgies in the workplace.

It’s all a matter of choice and agreement. Let’s at least have the discussion. I believe it’s one worth having.

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.

The Social Media Menagerie

First published January 17, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Did you know there are 18,903 social media gurus on Twitter? I haven’t the faintest idea what the prerequisites are for becoming a “guru,” but apparently thousands of people have passed the hypothetical “bar.” As a baseline, the original Sanskrit meaning of “guru” meant “teacher” or “master.” Fair enough, I suppose. It seems fairly benign. But the way many use the term, I think Wikipedia’s definition might be more fitting:  “In the United States, the meaning of ‘guru’ has been used to cover anyone who acquires followers, especially by exploiting their naiveté.”

To be fair, I have had the label applied to myself by others in certain contexts. But I have never used it to refer to myself. To me, it just smacks of a king-sized stroking of one’s own ego. What the hell makes you a guru? Did you take a test? Study under a true “master”? Lock yourself away in solitude to consider the intricacies of Facebook or Twitter? Was there a vote of a “guru” nominating committee that conferred the title on you? Did the god of social media anoint you? Or did you just sign up for a Twitter account and suddenly decide you were ready to go into the consulting biz?

I’m sure some of the 18,903 actually know what they’re doing. But I’m betting there are just as many that you should fend off with the proverbial 10-foot pole. Let’s face it: if you need to call yourself a guru to justify your self-worth, there may be other inadequacies in your own personal inventory.

To me, true masters always refers to themselves as students. They know they don’t know everything, but they’re always ready to learn. They open themselves up to constantly growing by doing. They know the value of “screwing up.” They realize that this is an area that is just defining itself, and to believe you have it mastered is the height of presumption. Give me one social media “student” over 18,903 “gurus” any day.

Of course, “guru” is not the only moniker appropriated in the Twittersphere – there are also 21,928 social media “mavens” and 21,876 “ninjas.” For some reason, I don’t take the same offence to these terms. In Yiddish, a “maven” is “one who understands, based on an accumulation of knowledge.”  And a “ninja” is a “covert agent or mercenary who specialized in unorthodox warfare.” The former seems to be a little less self-aggrandizing, and the latter is just stupid. Let the mavens keep learning, and let the ninjas battle each other to the death in some type of social media grudge match. I presume they use Twitter throwing stars and Linked In nunchucks.

Apparently, to consult in social media requires some kind of “out-there” title. There are only 9,031 social media “consultants”, 5,555 social media “experts” and 1,555 social media “marketers”. But there are 287 “freaks,” 104 “warriors,” and 35 “wonks.” I was also heartened to find that there are 174 social media “whores.” Now, there’s a title you can relate to.

Look, I get that you need to “stand out” — but if there are 20,000 other people calling themselves the same thing, how much are you really standing out?

Climbing the Slippery Slopes of Mount White Hat

First published August 30, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

On Monday of this week, fellow Search Insider Ryan DeShazer bravely threw his hat back in the ring regarding this question: Is Google better or worse off because of SEO?

DeShazer confessed to being vilified after a previous column indicated that Google owed us something. I admit I have a column penned but never submitted that Ryan could have added to the “vilify” side of that particular tally. But in his Monday column, Ryan touches on a very relevant point: “What is the thin line between White Hat and Black Hat SEO?” For as long as I’ve been in this industry (which is pushing 17 years now) I’ve heard that same debate. I’ve been at conference sessions where white hats and black hats went head to head on the question. It’s one of those discussions that most sane people in the world could care less about, but we in the search biz can’t seem to let go.

Ryan stirs the pot again by indicating that Google may be working on an SEO “Penalty Box”: a temporary holding pen for sites that are using “rank modifying spammers” where results will fluctuate more than in the standard index. The high degree of flux should lead to further modifications by the “spammers” that will help Google identify them and theoretically penalize them. DeShazer’s concern is the use of the word “spammers” in the wording of the patent application, which seems to include any “webmasters who attempt to modify their search engine ranking.”

I personally think it’s dangerous to try to apply wording used in a patent application (the source for this speculation) arbitrarily against what will become a business practice. Wording in a patent is intended to help convey the concept of the intellectual property as quickly and concisely as possible to a patent review bureaucrat. The wording deals in concepts that are (ironically) pretty black and white. It has little to no relationship to how that IP will be used in the real world, which tends to be colored in various shades of gray. But let’s put that aside for a moment.

Alan Perkins, an SEO I would call vociferously “white hat,” some years ago came up with what I believe is the quintessential difference here. Black hats optimize for a search engine. White hats optimize for humans.  When I make site recommendations, they are to help people find better content faster and act on it. I believe, along with Perkins, that this approach will also do good things for your search visibility.

But that also runs the danger of being an oversimplification. The picture is muddied by clients who measure our success as SEO agencies by their position relative to their competitors on a keyword-by-keyword level. This is the bed the SEO industry has built for itself, and now we’re forced to sleep in it. I’m as guilty as the next guy of cranking out competitive ranking reports, which have conditioned this behavior over the past decade and a half.

The big problem, and one continually pointed out by vocal grey/black hats, is that you can’t keep up with competition who are using methods more black than white by staying with white-hat tactics alone. The fact is, black hat works, for a while. And if I’m the snow-white SEO practitioner whose clients are repeatedly trounced by those using a black hat consultant, I’d better expect some client churn. Ethics and profitably don’t always go together in this industry.

To be honest, over the past five years, I’ve largely stopped worrying about the whole white hat/black hat thing. We’ve lost some clients because we weren’t aggressive enough, but the ones who stayed were largely untouched by the string of recent Google updates targeting spammers. Most benefited from the house cleaning of the index. I’ve also spent the last five years focused a lot more on people and good experiences than on algorithms and link juice, or whatever the SEO flavor du jour is.

I think Alan Perkins nailed it way back in 2007. Optimize for humans. Aim for the long haul. And try to be ethical. Follow those principles, and I find it hard to imagine that Google would ever tag you with the label of “spammer.”

Ramblings of a Feverish Mind

First published February 16, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

I’ve had the flu for going on a week now. My head hurts and my tongue feels like a terrycloth towel. My voice sounds like a cross between Satan and a barking seal. Any lucid thoughts I may have had have long been beaten into submission by repeated doses of NyQuil. And now I have a column to write.

What strikes me the most about my current state of mind is how little tolerance I have for the stuff that normally makes up my life.  The saying “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff” must have an illness-triggered corollary: “Fever-induced sweat seems to wash away all the little crap.” Before I got sick, I had a mountain of stuff that was all vitally important. Then I lost two-and-a-half days because I simply couldn’t raise my head from my pillow. Something had to give. Actually, several things had to give. And you know what? The world didn’t end. Life went on.

It’s a revelation of much less significance than Steve Job’s more eloquent version in his 2005 Stanford commencement speech: “Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.” But you get the gist. We fill up our lives with little crap, and it drowns out the significant stuff we should be focused on. Steven Covey calls them our “rocks.” But why do we need something like a death sentence or being waylaid by a particularly virulent flu virus to remember it? Why can’t we keep focused on the big stuff every day of our lives?

The ironic thing is that most of the stuff we do in a day, we do for others, not ourselves. We don’t want to drop the ball, leave someone hanging or let something fall between the cracks. Delivering on these multiple imperatives is the price we pay for being social animals. We want to keep the acceptance of the herd, so we’re hardwired to make other’s priorities our priorities. And, in the process, we keep shuffling the stuff that’s truly important to us to the back shelf. The only way to avoid molding your life around someone else’s priorities is to be a narcissistic jerk — like Mr. Jobs, or yours truly when spiking a fever.

This got me to wondering. Don’t these selfsame jerks have a natural advantage over the rest of us “nice guys”? The fact that they don’t care about other’s priorities and naturally advance their own agendas, expecting others to adopt them as their own, seems to indicate that they’ll actually get the stuff done they care about.

After three decades in the business world, I’ve come to the sad and wearied conclusion that to be wildly successful in business, you have to be an asshole. Nice guys may not always finish last, but they seldom take home the gold.  The most successful CEOs typically have a Machiavellian side, ideally buffered by some social skills.

By next week the flu will be gone, I hope. But part of me is also hoping that the forced perspective it gave me lingers a bit longer.  Maybe a little flu-induced “dickishness” wouldn’t be a bad thing the carry through 2012 and beyond.

The Challenge of Social

First published December 1, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Every quarter, I fill out an online survey about digital marketing trends. One question always shows up: “Are you looking at social as a replacement for search in your online marketing strategy?” I always answer no, and to myself, comment that it’s a stupid question asked by someone who obviously doesn’t know much about online marketing. But now I wonder  — is it really such a stupid question? Aren’t many experienced marketers asking themselves exactly the same question?

The Social Graph (or Network, or whatever you want to call it) should be the single biggest opportunity in marketing history. But marketers are stubbing their toes by the millions in trying to step over the threshold into the golden glow of the online social party. It seems it’s incredibly difficult to figure out.

Search, on the other hand, was easily pigeonholed as a direct-marketing channel. Search was so easy to “get” for marketers that Google turned it into a self-serve model and became the fastest growing company in history as a result.

For marketers, I suspect, the very ease of search has caused it to be considered a limited opportunity. Social, on the other hand, seems virtually limitless. It expands into hundreds and thousands of fascinating, if somewhat cloudy, opportunities to connect with customers. As I said, in theory, social seems like a marketer’s dream come true. But in practice, it’s an unwieldy animal to wrestle to the ground.

Here’s just one example of the challenges inherent in mapping the online social landscape.  Pitney Bowes felt there was tremendous potential in social to foster deeper engagements with its customers, building long-term loyalty. But rather than jump headlong into it, Pitney Bowes decided to test its assumptions through a survey of those customers first. The result? Social may not be all it’s cracked up to be:

“These findings will give decision-makers pause for thought,” the report (from the survey) stated. “Businesses can be forgiven for getting swept away by the hype of surrounding social media and wanting to invest in such activity as soon as possible. … But results show that those businesses tempted to lead with such techniques will quickly find themselves out of step with customer thinking.”

So why is social so awkward to leverage effectively? I suspect it’s because the exact same things that make social so promising also make it incredibly unwieldy to manage.  It’s part of our lives, which means we’re engaged, but what we’re engaged with is rarely what an advertiser wants to talk to us about.

Marketers get caught up in the concept of participation rates and usage. Facebook has one of the highest reaches of any online property, second only to Google. Alexa estimates that almost half of the total Internet user population (about 49%) uses Google regularly. Facebook is just behind at 43%. But if we look at time spent on site, Facebook comes it an about 25 minutes a day, compared to 13 minutes a day for Google. If we were using engagement as an indicator of marketing potential, this would have us salivating like a St. Bernard over a fresh bowl of kibble.

But the reason I don’t trust engagement as a metric is that it doesn’t consider intent. And intent is the key difference between social and search. The reason search excels in marketing is that it’s all about intent, and what’s even better, it’s about identified intent, neatly labeled by the search query. In the history of marketing, it’s never been easier than this to intercept a motivated buyer.

I don’t mean to minimize the value of a well-managed search campaign, but compared to other channels, it’s pretty difficult to completely flop on a search campaign. The same is not true for social. To illustrate, let’s step back and look at this from another point of view, one that removes some of the hyperbole that surrounds online social.

Let’s say you’ve just decided to sell your 2007 Honda Civic. As you’re backing out of your driveway, your neighbor flags you down and asks you how you like your Honda, and if you know where she could buy a good used one? From your perspective, this aligning of the planets seems too good to be true, but it’s similar to what happens on a search engine millions of time every day. It’s the power of alignment with purchase intent.

But let’s take a different tack. Let’s imagine that as you drive down the street, you see that one of your neighbors is having a party. In front of their house, there are at least 12 cars parked, including four Hondas. “A-hah, “ you say, “a perfect gathering of potential Honda buyers, with at least 33% of them showing a preference for Hondas” (note: if this is what your internal dialogue actually sounds like, you should consider an extended leave from work). You ring the doorbell and begin to work the crowd. The only problem is, no one came to the party to buy a Honda. Not to mention the obvious question on everyone’s mind: “Who the hell invited you?”

If your goal is to unload your Honda, I know what scenario I’d be betting on. It almost seems ludicrous that we’re even considering Scenario B as a substitute for Scenario A. Yet, every three months, I get that survey asking me if I’m thinking about it.

I know — it doesn’t make any sense to me, either.

The View Above the “Weeds”

First published November 10, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Yesterday was not a good day.

It was a day that made me wish I had never gone into this business — a day that made me long for a warm beach and a mai tai. I don’t have these days very often, but yesterday, oh boy, I had it in spades!

I’ve been doing search (yesterday, I used a different, less polite noun) for a long time.  And I have to be honest, some days it feels like a thousand leeches are sucking the blood out of me. Given that, it was impossible to muster up much enthusiasm for the roll out of Google+ Business Pages or the raging controversy of Facebook’s “LikeGate.” Really? Are those the most important things to litter our inboxes with?

On days like yesterday, when I get caught in the weeds of digital marketing (where the blood-sucking leeches tend to hang out) I sometimes lose sight of why I got into this in the first place. This is a revolution. What’s more, it’s a revolution of epic, perhaps unprecedented, proportions. In macro-economic terms, this is what they call a long-wave transition or a Kondratieff wave (named after the Russian economist who first identified it). These cycles, which typically last more than 50 years, see the deconstruction of the current market infrastructure and the reconstruction of a market built on entirely new foundations. They are caused by change factors so massively disruptive, often in the form of technological innovations or global social events (for example, a World War), that it takes decades for their impact to be absorbed and responded to.

The digital revolution is perhaps the biggest Kondratieff wave in history. One could tentatively peg the start of the transition in the early to mid ‘90s with the introduction of the Internet. If this is the case, we’re less than 20 years into the wave, still in the deconstruction phase. To me, that feels about right. If history repeats itself, which it has a tendency of doing; we have yet to get to the messiest part of the transition.

These waves tend to precipitate what’s called a “regime shift.” Here is how the regime shift works. Companies started in the old market paradigm eventually reach a stagnation point. In our particular case, think of the multinational conglomerates built around market necessities such as mass distribution, physical locations, supply-chain logistics, large-scale manufacturing, top-down management and centralized R&D. In this market, bigger was not only better, it was essential to truly succeed. Our Fortune 500 reads like a who’s who of this type of company.  But eventually, the market becomes fully serviced, or even saturated, with the established market contenders, and growth is restricted.

Then, a disruptive change happens and a new opportunity for growth is identified. At first, the full import of the disruption is not fully realized. Speculation and a flood of investment capital can create a market frenzy early in the wave, looking for quick wins from the new opportunities. Think dot-com boom

The issue here is that the full impact of the disruptive change has to be absorbed by society — and that doesn’t happen in a year, or even 10 years. It takes decades for us to integrate it into our lives and social fabric. And so, the early wave market boom inevitably gives way to a collapse. Think dot-com bust.

As the wave progresses, the “regime shift” starts to play out. Established players are still heavily invested in the existing market structure, and although they may realize the potential of the new market, they simply can’t move fast enough to capitalize on it. Case in point, when industrial America became electrified in the late 1800s and early 1900s, the existing regime had factories built around steam power.  Steam-powered factories had a central steam engine that drove all the equipment in the factory through a complex maze of drive shafts and belts. The factories were dirty, dangerous and inefficient. New factories powered by electricity were cleaner, brighter, safer and much more efficient. But even with the obvious benefits of electricity, established manufacturers tried to retrofit their existing factories by jury-rigging electrical motors onto equipment designed to run by steam. They simply had too much invested in the current market infrastructure to shut the doors and walk away. New companies weren’t burdened by this baggage and built factories from scratch to take advantage of electricity. The result? Within a few decades, the old manufacturers had to close their doors, outmaneuvered by newer, more nimble and more efficient competitors.

When I plot our current situation against the timelines of past waves, I believe that given how massive this wave is, it could take longer than 50 years to play out. And, if that’s the case, there is still a lot of deconstruction of the previous marketplace to happen. The good news is, the building of the new market is a period of huge growth and opportunity. There is still a ton of life left in this wave, and we haven’t even realized its full benefits yet.

On days like yesterday, when my to-do list and inbox conspire to burn out what little sanity I have left, I have to step back and realize why I did this. Somehow, way back then, I knew this was going to be important. And yesterday, I had to remind myself just how massively important it is.

In Defense of Google

First published August 18, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Michael Martinez and Jim Rudnick, you are both oh-so-wrong! Michael responded to Derek Gordon’s column on Tuesday about the Google “Dog pile” with this rejoinder: “No market-dominant company ever gets to the top through ‘quality of the service it provides’ — they get there through marketing, and Google has done PLENTY of that.”

Then, Jim Rudnick “piled on” with this addition:  “As Michael stated, Google has more ‘marketers’ IMHO, than engineers’!” (which he later qualified with a “well, not really.”)

This wasn’t even my column they were responding to, but I just couldn’t let those two obviously ill-informed comments go unanswered.

Mr. Martinez and Mr. Rudnick, it’s reality-check time. Anyone who has ever spent any time at Google, knows anyone at Google, has read anything on the history of Google, or has spent any time trying to understand the culture at Google, knows that engineers rule supreme there — and marketing is considered at least two rungs below, a necessary evil, which is somewhat ironic for a company whose revenues rely solely on… that’s right, marketing!

You can possibly hate Google for a number of things, but subjugating the quality of their results for a quick marketing win has never been, or never will be, one of them. I’ve been following this company pretty much since day one, and they are obsessive about the quality of their user’s experience. I may debate their approach to design or the aesthetic appeal of their interfaces. I may question their need to dominate everything. I may take exception to the intellectual arrogance that seems to occasionally seep out of Mountain View — but I have never, ever, questioned their priorities. Their domination in search comes squarely on the shoulders of their high regard for their user, and not one of their serious competitors would ever dispute that.

This Google “marketing” that Michael speaks of is a meager trickle compared to the millions that Microsoft pumped into the launch of Bing, or, lest we forget, the failed advertising campaigns of Ask.com, Yahoo or even Infoseek when it was bought by Disney and became Go.com. Tell me, when is the last time you launched a search on Go.com?

Marketing alone will never establish a dominant search player. Number one is established solely on the strength of its user’s experiences. You might want to do a comparison of market shares and marketing expenditures to get that point driven home more forcefully, Michael.

In fact, I would shudder to think that any dominant player in any industry got to where they are based on marketing alone, and not by adequately meeting or exceeding their customer’s expectations. I live by another adage, “Nothing ever killed a bad product faster than good advertising.” I talked about Jim Lecinski’s concept of the ZMOT a few columns back. Marketing provides just one input into the chain reaction that Lecinski chronicles. Let’s walk through this again. Because this is more than just a rebuttal, it’s an illustration for anyone who shares the same delusional view that marketing is all it takes to win a market.

Marketing provides a stimulus that can spark a buyer’s interest. After this stimulus, the buyer then researches to make sure the hyperbole of the marketing message bears at leas some passing resemblance to reality. This is Lecinski’s ZMOT (Zero Moment of Truth). Then, there’s the FMOT (First Moment of Truth).  This is when a buyer actually picks a product off the proverbial “shelf.”  Finally, there’s the SMOT (Second Moment of Truth), which is the buyer’s actual experience with the product.

If marketing and the buyer’s reality are aligned, these elements create a virtuous cycle, where the promise of the ad matches the experience delivered. The result is ongoing brand loyalty.

But if all the company cares about is marketing, it all starts to fall apart in the ZMOT and the SMOT. The cycle is destroyed and you have a pissed-off customer telling anyone who will listen that they’ve been duped. That’s why Jim Lecinski (speaking on behalf of Google) rightly stresses the importance of the ZMOT for marketers. It’s where the rubber starts to hit the road.

I don’t care if Messrs. Rudnick and Martinez have a sore spot for Google. I do care when they imply those 13 years plus of producing high-quality search results and deeply caring about the user are irrelevant, and that Google bought its way to the top of the search engine heap through marketing. That’s dangerous thinking, for any industry. We have enough crap to fix in corporate America without letting offhand comments like these go unanswered. It’s this kind of thinking that got us into the mess we currently find ourselves.

Let’s appreciate quality when we see it, and not assume the whole world is a sucker for a quick pitch!

Each Day is a Gift

First published June 30, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

I’m struggling with the onslaught of time. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m turning 50 in a few weeks. Maybe it’s that I attended the funeral of an old business colleague, friend and mentor who unfortunately was taken away much too early (at 66) due to Alzheimer’s. Or maybe it’s that my oldest daughter is graduating high school this week. Whatever the reason, I just want everything to slow down a little.

At the funeral, which was in a Baptist church, the pastor comforted the congregation by telling them that this life is really a trial run for the after life. The days we spend in our corporal form are “pointless… a cruel joke” with “little meaning.” He used the analogy of a dragonfly, which lives two lives, one in a larval stage as a nymph buried at the bottom of a slough (presumably analogous to our earthly stint) and the other as the aerobatic insect we’re familiar with.  He was a little shaky on his biology, but I got the point. I just don’t happen to agree with it.

I have a significantly different view of things. I think the days we spend here, each and every one of them, are precious beyond compare.  In fact, one of our company’s core values enshrines this: “Each day is a gift.” One of our staff added a fitting tag: “that’s why we call it the present.” If you believe in an afterlife, that’s fine. But don’t let that belief lift the burden from your shoulders of living each and every day to its fullest. It’s all too easy to let each precious 24-hour parcel slip away, as we get caught up in the day-to-day.

I also don’t believe our lives are pointless. Far from it. Our lives here are the whole point. At the start of each day, you’re given the chance to make a difference, to improve the world just a little bit. In Canada, the average life span of a male at birth is 78.3 years. That means, if I hit the average, in my life I’ll have 28, 579 chances to do something meaningful in my time here on earth.  I’ve already used about two thirds of those chances with questionable outcomes, but statistically speaking, I still have a little over 10,000 in my account. That, I believe, is a number I should pay close attention to, because each day, that balance declines by one.

Further, I believe that at this point in history, we can do more with each and every day than we ever could before. One person, now more than ever, can mobilize a significant force almost instantly, thanks to technology.  In last week’s column, I introduced a moral dilemma: the use of social media in rounding up the Vancouver rioters. Were we participating in the campaign out of a sense of justice or a need for revenge? Did our motivation really matter? Many of you weighed in with your opinions, which split on both sides of the question.

I’m not going to reopen the question of whether it was right or wrong. What I wanted to focus on, in light of this week’s topic, is the sheer velocity and power of the medium. Whether it was justice or revenge, the fact was that technology made the entire thing possible.

Technology puts tremendous potential power into the hands of every person, each and every day. It’s our choice how we use that power. The fact that you are reading my thoughts and opinions right now, as I sit in my office in British Columbia and you’re wherever you are, somewhere in the world, is thanks solely to technology. Without it, I wouldn’t have the opportunity.

So, how do we use that power? How did you use technology today to make a difference?  Does the fact that the five most popular Twitter users are, in order: Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, Barack Obama, Britney Spears and Katy Perry worry you? Should it? Should we be concerned that the Dalai Lama’s website is only the 122,444th most popular site in the world and to this point, he hasn’t seen fit to tweet? Maybe it’s because he only has a little over 2,000 followers. Meanwhile, Kim Kardashian is getting close to top 1000 traffic status for her website (according to Alexa) and she’s just after Katy Perry on the Twitter popularity scale with over 8 million followers. No offense to Ms. Kardashian, but I find it troubling that she has 4000 times the online audience of his Holiness.

The awesome reality is that this day, today, you and I have something no previous generation could possible imagine: access to the accumulated knowledge of mankind, the ability to connect with other minds around the world and a voice with which to say something meaningful. Today, you have an opportunity to do something with that gift. And, if you’re busy today, you’ll have tomorrow.

How could all that possibly be “pointless”?