Category: Management

Stepping Up or Standing Down

The first thing to say is that I am not Cristiano Ronaldo.  One of us has better cheek bones than Joni Mitchell, appreciates ice baths more than Wim Hof and turned footballing talent into greatness through application and willpower.  The other writes the viewfromabridge.org blog.

As Ronaldo stepped up to take the first penalty in the shoot-out against Slovenia he encapsulated all the best things about leadership, taking responsibility and nerve.  Having had a penalty saved in the course of the game and shed tears just a few minutes before the shoot out, it may have included an element of egotism but it certainly showed self-belief.  It also reminded me of an important professional lessons from my early career.

Three Strikes

I was in month one at ASDA as a Public Relations Officer and finding life hard.  It felt a million miles away from my first job as Press Officer at Tesco where I had established a network and a successful start to my career.  It was my first time living a long way from family or friends and I had no track record of delivery in the new company.

The buyers were a hard-edged, hard-nosed, hard driven group who bargained for every advantage in a company that based its ASDA Price brand on being low-cost.  Both grocery buying and fresh food buying were led by Liverpudlians1 who took no nonsense and no prisoners from either suppliers or new arrivals from the south.  For those familiar with the Liverpool teams over the years it was more Tommy Smith (the “Anfield Iron”) and Ron Yeats (“the Colossus”) than Virgil Van Dijk and Harvey Elliott. 

Being invited to a fresh food buyer meeting to be briefed on an innovation felt like a good moment to assert my skills and dispense my wisdom on all things media related.  The meeting began and was straight down to business with the announcement that ASDA had worked with suppliers and was launching new cheese packaging that was colour-graded and numbered to show strength of flavour from mild to strong.  All eyes turned to me as I was asked about the coverage would be possible when it was launched.

Mistake one was to believe that this was the moment for a treatise on the way the media worked.  Mistake two was to think that cheese grading was not important news and that a competitor might have already beaten us to a similar scheme.  Mistake three was to verbalize those thoughts.  We all know that three strikes and you’re out.

As I finished my lengthy and patronising explanation of why this was not national news all heads pivoted to the Associate Director at the head of the table for the judgement and sentence.  It was brief and dismissive, “I’ll talk to Iain Tweedie in the morning.”  Iain was my boss, who had all the edginess and steel of an ex-Manchester Evening News reporter alongside the smarts to go on to build a global career in a major bank.

My mouth was flapping as I tried to find a way back but I was cut off as the meeting moved on to the next business.  For another hour I was trapped in the room with nobody looking at me let alone commiserating.  As I prepared my resignation letter that night, I was consumed by my failure to perform well, a sense of public humiliation and the belief that there was no hope of redemption.  I may not be Ronaldo but seeing his despair brought it all back.

Stepping Up

Iain Tweedie arrived early but I had been in the office an hour rehearsing my resignation speech and had already handed the letter over and begun explaining when the phone rang.  It was the Associate Director and I hear Iain’s calm tones as he responded, “Well Alan’s here and has been thinking about it overnight.  He’s on his way over with his ideas.” He put the phone down and gave me a one-minute briefing that stayed with me all my life:

  • Explain that you realise you hadn’t taken time to express your recognition of the work people had put into the grading scheme but that you’ve been thinking about ways of getting publicity.
  • Talk about some very big ideas – projecting the ASDA logo on the moon, floating a barge with a huge cheese on it down the Thames past the Houses of Parliament – and say anything is possible if there is sufficient budget and you want to be on the front pages of the national papers.
  • Then shut up, listen to what the Associate Director says and respond with enthusiasm.

The pep talk was a masterclass in accepting responsibility for your actions, showing appreciation for the client and the brief, demonstrating your creativity and ambition while recognizing budgetary constraints, then showing respect for feedback.  He gave me his absolute backing and confidence but left no doubt that it was my personal responsibility to have the conversation. Duly fortified and directed I walked on slightly wobbly legs down the corridor to the Associate Director’s office.

I don’t remember too much of the discussion but I certainly made good on accepting that I hadn’t done very well in the meeting and borrowed the barge idea before closing my mouth and really concentrating.  He said, “All I was really wanting was to get something in the The Grocer for the team and the suppliers”.  For readers unfamiliar with the UK retail scene, The Grocer, is a major trade magazine that would be more than happy to take an ASDA article with quotes from a senior director announcing an innovative cheese grading scheme.

I realised that I had just been given a brief that clarified the audience and the objective. Had I taken the time to ask questions about these vital aspects of communication in the meeting I wouldn’t have had a night of torment. The PR lesson was to start by understanding the job to be done2. Five minutes later I left the office to continue what turned into a successful six years at ASDA and even got invited back a second time as part of the team rebuilding the company after near bankruptcy. 

Looking back, I smile grimly at the overreaction of writing a resignation letter for something so minor but understand the lack of maturity and experience at play.  Nobody held the incident against me and I learnt that from time to time almost everybody has been in a similar situation. Most of all I learnt that even after something feels like a disaster it is rarely game over unless you decide it is. 

All That Matters

So, there you have it.  People talk about getting back on the horse after being thrown or that “it’s not whether you get knocked down, it’s whether you get up”3.  My own favourite aphorism is – all that matters is what you do next – whether it is following success or failure.

Cristiano took a deep breath and placed the ball perfectly into the corner of the net as the first step in Portugal winning the penalty shoot-out.  We will all remember him making a clutch play when he was mentally and physically exhausted. Bom trabalho, Cristiano, but good luck to England in Sunday’s European Championship final.

NOTES

  1. Len McCormick (who went on to become Deputy Chairman at Batley’s cash and carry) led grocery buying, the foundation of ASDA’s price leadership, and David Robinson led fresh food buying at the time.  It’s a long time ago but my best recollection is that they both hailed from Liverpool – if anybody knows better I’m happy to correct the record.
  2. Clayton Christensen’s “theory of jobs to be done” is one of the great, all purpose ideas that every communicator should know. It works as much for internal communications and meetings as for product development and branding. It’s also great for helping put a perspective on personal choices.
  3. There are several versions of this saying but the version quoted here is attributed to Vince Lombardi, head coach & general manager of the Green Bay Packers from 1959-1967.  He is also credited with saying “Fatigue makes cowards of us all” which, in the context of a penalty taken at the end of 120 minutes play, suggests the extent of Ronaldo’s self-discipline and will.

Qatar Carry On

“Do you like horror movies?”  The eyes of the princess danced as she asked the question of the exhausted foreigner.  It had been a long, long day but there was no easy answer to the follow up question as the clock neared midnight.  She continued, “I love them, shall we go and watch one now?”

Every international officer has a story about days without limits, meals without end and questions without answers.  There is something about jet lag which makes you feel you can stay awake forever while being so tired that your brain is pleading for sleep.  Fixed eye stares and a ghostly pale pallor were the hallmarks of any overseas trip where time was tight and ambitions exceeded hours in the day.

I was usually fortunate to travel with people who knew the country as well as being looked after by in-country agents intent on showing the best it had to offer.  Apart from leaving me in a burning hotel in Mexico and under military inspection on the wrong side of passport control in Vietnam, the international office teams I worked with usually seemed keen to bring me home in one piece.  So, in July 2008, a one-week sprint through Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Qatar and Dubai with Craig Smitherman seemed a reasonable idea.     

Road to Riyadh

It all began with a 4.30am start to catch a Lufthansa flight from Heathrow to Riyadh via Frankfurt.  My first and only time on the German flag carrier, which had all the efficiency and charm expected by an Englishman of a certain age.  I could find no evidence that I was travelling on an ex-Interflug aircraft but wrote in my journal that “..now I see how they found a use for the mothballed bomber fleet after the war – not comfortable.”

Two days jammed with meetings in Riyadh included a visit to one agent who offered us a lift back to the hotel rather than getting a taxi.  A feature of country visits was to smile and say yes, which was all well and good until we stood in the car park in 44 degrees of sunshine and the agent revealed that his car’s air conditioning had broken.  We smiled again and said, “No problem.”

I don’t know how the chicken feels when it goes in the oven but I do know that it is not wearing a suit, tie and lace up, leather shoes.  Perhaps as well it wasn’t a t-shirt and shorts because the seat felt hot enough to sear skin.   Having the windows down made absolutely no difference, while the screech of brakes, honking horns and frequent curses was a reminder that one commentator has written about Riyadh’s “cruel traffic.”          

Eating for England

Flying Riyadh to Jeddah for a single day of end-to-end meetings made good use of time but led to an ad hoc breakfast meeting before the early morning flight next day.  From Jeddah to Dammam on the other side of Saudi is only two hours but this was day four and after another 4am start fatigue was setting in.  There was a long drive awaiting as we set off through the desert for a session with Saudi Aramco.

Two hours after landing we had driven past a lot of sand and were entering the company’s compound.  Driving into the entrance required passing under the business end of a tank and multiple armed guards which were both signs that we were a long way from home.  But winning further investment for activity with the university was a reminder that time spent getting face to face in remote outposts almost always paid off.

Then there was lunch.  Stomachs still heavy with breakfast we gamely ploughed on through several courses until it became apparent they would keep on coming until we gave up.  We did not come, see and conquer as much as chew, nibble and eventually beg for mercy.

The Princess and the Pasta

Beyond replete we went over the bridge to Bahrain and landed in Doha at 7.30 in the evening.  Our turnaround in the hotel was 15 minutes and we entered the land cruiser to be met by the agent and a companion she introduced as her cousin.  The agent wore a hijab while the cousin wore a niqab.

The first destination of the evening was a shopping mall where Craig and I followed our hosts at a respectful distance.  Shops full of jewellery, fabric, ceramics and clothes were perused without purchase.  There seemed a certain irony to us trailing several paces behind the women.

Almost inevitably there came time when food was mentioned.  Bellies loaded with Jeddah breakfast and Dammam lunch groaned in protest but our faces smiled and our mouths said yes as, 17 hours into the day, we sat down to eat – again.  Polite conversation was made and we learnt that the cousin was related to the royal family and was a poet of wide renown in the country who gave readings for the Emir.

It had reached the stage of brain fog where nothing came as a particular surprise.  Why wouldn’t we be trying to stuff down the third major meal of the day, in a shopping mall, at eleven o’clock at night, in a foreign country in the company of a poet-princess?  All in the good cause of recruiting international students.

Things Of the Night

But the subject turned to films and the princess was expressing her love of old black and white horror movies like Dracula and Frankenstein.  Incautiously, I indicated that I was not much for current horror movies but had fond memories of the old Hammer films .  I may even have ventured opinions about the various merits of Vincent Price over Christopher Lee.

Seconds later the invitation to go and watch a movie was made.  My slightly hazy brain turned over the idea of being in a Qatar cinema at 1am in the morning with a princess by my side as Van Helsing drove a stake through a vampire’s heart.  My slightly addled brain was saying that it would be polite to accept the invitation, while something I like to think of as common sense was screeching that this was the worst idea of the day.

I think the offer was real but it’s possible I was being teased.  My stuttering apology of early meetings next morning and it having been a very long day were graciously accepted.  It’s a regret that I didn’t say yes and I am sure my reluctance was a sign I was not cut from the cloth that makes the best international officers.

Image by Lumpi from Pixabay 

The Name of The Game

A minute is a very long time.  In the silence of the interview room with a vice chancellor and five unfriendly faces looking at me it was getting longer by the second.  What had seemed a good idea in planning was losing credibility faster than a Liz Truss/Kwasi Kwarteng mini-budget.  My nerve broke…

Interviews share some of the characteristics of democracy in that they are the very worst form of selecting a new employee apart from “all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”  Much like an election, they can be a lottery where the politics on the other side of the table matter much more than the candidate’s capabilities.  I succeeded at each of the first three interviews in my career but had a hit rate well under 20% after that.

I should probably have been better as a candidate because I’ve spent plenty of time as a hiring manager and chairing interview panels.  But over the years the process seemed to become increasingly focused on ticking compliance boxes rather than having a decent conversation with someone about their fitness for the role.  Most interviews are so dull they are instantly forgettable but there are a few examples where I’ve overextended my hand in trying to liven them up.

Silence Is Golden2

The silence in the interview room and my loss of nerve came during a two-minute slot where I was invited to give an overview on my suitability for a role as the university’s head of communications.  I had decided to sit totally still and wordless for the first minute.  It was intended to be a precursor to explaining that this symbolised an institution that had communicated nothing of importance for months.

My inspiration was a tale from the advertising world when Allen Brady and Marsh tendered for the British Rail contract in 1977. The client team, led by then BR chairman, Sir Peter Parker, arrived at ABM’s reception for the presentation to be met by a bored receptionist and were made to sit in a waiting room where the tables were festooned with used coffee cups and cigarette butts.  They were about to walk out when agency director Peter Marsh and his team appeared.

Marsh said, “What I’ve been trying to demonstrate to you in these surroundings and the indifference of our receptionist there, is the experience your customers have of you, British Rail, every day. And it’s my job and intention to show you how we will overcome that problem. Shall we go and have lunch…”  Totally brilliant in terms of concept, timing and nerve.

Among the problems with my own attempt at performance art was that I had forgotten to set my watch, the evident hostility of the panel at this unexpected silence got to me and we certainly weren’t going for a slap-up lunch afterwards.  As the tension in the room grew I decided to speak up well before the end of the minute but fluffed the explanation, so they only heard me telling them what a terrible job they were doing.  Totally my fault for bungled execution and the interview spiralled downwards from there, but as the vice-chancellor didn’t last much longer in his job it was probably a narrow escape.

Shine On You Crazy Diamond3

A later outing was with a well-ranked university where my research had revealed that the VC was a world specialist in materials with interests including alloys and crystallography.  With this insight, I decided to base my vision for communicating the strengths of the university by using the metaphor of it being an undiscovered diamond.  As I concluded my description the vice chancellor, who was chairing the panel, told me he was an expert on the subject.  I said, “I know,” which were the last words from my lips for several minutes. 

He proceeded to hold court, to a panel of ten, with a lecture on the characteristics of diamond formation, minerals, organic and inorganic compounds and alloys. Most particularly, he pronounced on why the metaphor didn’t correspond with his learned view about the diamonds.  It was probably not helpful for me to suggest he had missed the point and that popular opinions about diamonds reflected more on their value and popularly understood characteristics than their chemical composition and isometric structure.  

Everything I had heard about the institution being a tightly controlled autocracy became painfully evident as the panel took their cue from the top. The rest of the hour was a reminder that a good chair speaks last if they want to ensure they hear a diversity of views and opinions. My only consolation was thinking it’s sometimes better to crash, burn and learn than to land safely in the wrong place.

The Games People Play4

I was also particularly bad at the two days interviews which became popular with some universities.  At one south coast institution I wowed an audience of 20 on day one with a presentation on the theme of distant horizons.  I even managed to pull off a joke about the university being similar to Spock of Star Trek in having three ears – right ear, left ear and space the final frontier. 

Day two was a terrible series of dull question and answer interviews culminating in a one to one with a vice-chancellor who had some pretty fixed views about pathway operators. They were suspended several years later after, as one of several issues, commissioning seven custom-made chairs costing £95,000.  Wouldn’t have fancied managing the PR for that anyway.

But this is where the Lefty Gomez quote suggesting that it’s better to be lucky than good comes in.  For one interview, I was a last minute addition to the list of six candidates because someone dropped out late. I missed the day of campus tours because I was driving many miles to get there and secured an agreement to be the first interview of the next day.

In the car park next morning, I bumped into a suited, slightly harassed looking person who I guessed just had to be one of the other candidates.  I enquired how things were going and he told me he was just getting some handouts and overhead projector slides produced to give to the panel.  At that point I hadn’t put my suit on let alone thought about my opening statement.

Forty-five minutes later I was asked for a brief overview on how I would approach the job.  I paused for effect and looked around the nine-person panel.  “Some candidates will probably come here today with slides and handouts which suggest that they know this institution better than you do.  My view is that you are probably more expert than I will ever be in understanding the academic heart of the university but that I would add value by being the expert at communicating your work…” 

After my appointment the Registrar told me that the very next candidate after me had done just as I predicted.  I chose not to tell him the background.  Neither did I tell him that my opening statement had an even greater truth because I really didn’t know very much at all about universities or the higher education sector. 

“Get your retaliation in first,” is what Willie John McBride, captain of the famous 1974 touring Lions, told his team-mates when facing bruising encounters with the South African rugby team and it’s always seemed a worthwhile consideration.  But also, as Paul Newman says in Cool Hand Luke, “sometimes nothing can be a real cool hand.”  Either way, it was another lesson that interviews are a game where the best prepared and most knowledgeable don’t always win.

Money For Nothing5

No recounting of interviews would be complete without sharing the very best answer to an interview question that I have ever heard.  When recruiting new international officers, the favourite question was to put them in a scenario where their plane was delayed and they had landed in the early hours in a country with a reputation for kidnappings.  Their pre-booked taxi was nowhere to be seen, suspicious characters were hanging around and they found their wallet had been stolen.

Faced with this situation it was interesting to watch relatively young and inexperienced people run through their expectations, hopes and fears while repeatedly foundering on the absence of cash or credit cards.  No calls to the embassy, no hailing a taxi, not even bribing an airport employee was possible.  There was only ever one winning answer.  The mighty Pete Ryan, a top guy who not only got the job but went on to become a Head of International Recruitment, barely paused before giving the world-beating, “Well it’s no problem, like, ‘cause I always keep a fiver in my shoe.”

NOTES

  1. The lyrics of ABBA’s 1977 UK number one, Name of the Game, are worth considering in the context of interviews.
  2. The Four Seasons originally recorded Silence is Golden in 1964 but the Tremeloes’ version from 1967 topped the UK charts and reached number 11 in the Billboard Hot 100 chart, so is probably better known.
  3. Shine On You Crazy Diamond appeared on Pink Floyd’s 1975 album Wish You Were Here.  The song is dedicated to the late Syd Barrett, whose drug use and mental health problems caused him to be ejected from the band in 1968.
  4. Joe South’s 1968 Grammy Award winning song, Games People Play, is a pretty downbeat look at human character.  He went on to write Lynn Anderson’s 1970 hit, Rose Garden.
  5. Money for Nothing was released in 1985 as the second single from the Dire Strait’s album Brothers in Arms.  Sting sings background vocals and a falsetto introduction and came up with the line in the song, “I want my MTV”.  The guitar sound is, apparently, modelled on that of ZZ Top because of their popularity on early MTV.

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay 

Working For the Boss Every Night and Day*

Getting pinned up against the end of a run of shelving in a half-fitted out store might not be everyone’s idea of good management training but it provided a lesson that came in handy over the next thirty years.  It wasn’t even my line manager doing the pinning.  But if it takes a village to raise a child it takes more than one senior manager to teach you about company culture and personal discipline.

Over four decades, I started a new job 12 times in nine different companies (three of them invited me back for reasons that are hard to fathom).  With 21 direct bosses over that time, I’ve had nine leave or be replaced and nine where I left for greener grass or personal reasons.  Maybe I’ve been fortunate but all the social media posts about people leaving bad bosses (rather than companies) has always felt strange in the context of my own curiosity, ambition and occasional arrogance about chasing the next opportunity.

Beauty in the Beasts

There have been two bosses that I would think of as being directly responsible for me leaving a company.  There was also one organization where I couldn’t stay but my boss had my sympathy for being totally outgunned, outmanoeuvred and possibly even bullied into submission.  These examples account for three of the five occasions I’ve jumped ship without a lifeboat (or a job to go to).     

The dismal duo of bosses were poor in very different ways.  One was very competent and went on to be a successful CEO but was always away, made no effort to help me settle into the company and, as it turned out, had inflated the importance of the role and opportunity when I was being interviewed.  The other was of limited ability in their own specialist field and a micro-manager who didn’t understand marketing and communications but was happy to take the glory when things went well while wielding the stick when things were less than perfect.

If those types of bosses are the beasts of a career, they also lend a certain beauty to management development in learning from them how not to behave.  It’s not very comfortable at the time but taking the lessons can help you avoid making the same mistakes.  There is also something to be said for working out if what looks like an inadequate boss is doing their best to protect in impossible circumstances.          

In fairness, I doubt that I matched up to their expectations either and would have to accept that from time to time I have been a less than perfect subordinate.  Hard working certainly but not always the best at accepting authority and, particularly in my younger days, a little too likely to burn the candle at both ends.  The only defence was that the early days were at a time when you were forgiven most things as long as you turned up on time and got the job done.

Beginnings and Belonging

My very first boss, Tony Dobbin at Tesco, was immensely hard working and benevolent.  When the company opened the UK’s largest superstore at Weston Favell he would lead the photography sessions, get home at 4am and still be at his desk in Cheshunt by 8.30am.  He also very gently taught me the nuances of word selection when writing promotional material where the word “aroma” was definitely an improvement on my draft about the “smell of freshly baked bread.”

Despite a year on a journalism course my judgement of text was rough round the edges and I had an upbringing which meant I briefed a leaflet for a celebratory leaving event as a dinner when it was at lunchtime**.  It was a good job that I was keen to take on any task, enjoyed driving long distances and had no real sense of my own limitations or naivety.  Long hours, weekend working and full commitment were expected but usually rewarded.  

It was the broader retail management of the company who gave me a real sense of purpose and belonging.  They ensured I got my first company car – a 950cc Ford Fiesta with a foot-pump operated windscreen washer.  The price was weekends photographing charity cricket matches with suppliers, evenings shepherding councillors around new stores and always being available for late night discussions about the latest food crisis.

One certainty is that in the best companies, senior management outside the direct line manager pay attention to newcomers.  There is nothing better or more reassuring than having your existence and your work recognized by someone from elsewhere in the business.  It eliminates silos, encourages collaboration and creates the best sense of company culture.   

Create Your Own Pressure   

But the defining lesson in my first job was much more personal and came a few days before the opening of a new store.  I was with a senior regional director who was a company legend for his business success and who had been very supportive. He was well over 6’and it is fair to say that I am somewhat less lofty.

It was total mayhem as painters, electricians, merchandisers, tilers and chippies raced to complete the fitting out in a breathtakingly short timescale.  At the time Tesco was opening two or three stores a month and every occasion was a race against the clock with most of the new store team living out of suitcases as they moved from town to town.  Only after I left retailing would I realise that not every business worked at this type of pace.

As we walked along the bank of half-built checkouts with their trailing wires he turned to me and said, “Do you feel the pressure, Al?”***  As a 23-year-old who got on well with him I felt this was a good moment to try and be smart.  My response was calculated to try and be sophisticated, “Pressure.  What’s that?”

In a moment he had turned and physically pushed me up against the racks at the end of an aisle of shelving.  My recollection is that he had my lapels and I was on my tiptoes as he loomed over me but he was calm and urgent.  He just growled, “If you don’t feel the pressure, you’ve got to make your own pressure.”

I’ve told the story a number of times since and am usually asked why I didn’t report it to someone.  My response is that this was someone I respected giving me forceful advice about humility, self-discipline and respect for the work.  It was over as quickly as it began and my overwhelming sensation was that it had been done for my own good.     

I wouldn’t recommend the physical element but when the book Radical Candor came out, I recognized that at an early stage in my career I had been shown the value of a manager caring enough personally, to challenge behaviour immediately and directly.  The underlying message was even more important.  Your boss is not responsible for motivating you – you are.

NOTES

* A lyric from Happy by the Rolling Stones.  One of those joyous moments when Keith gets to sing. Not sure he’s had too many bosses in his life.

** This is one of the classic differences between U and non-U English.

*** He was one of only three people that called me Al (and even then only occasionally).  I am mildly fixated on calling people by their full names unless they ask me not to.

Image by Miro Alt from Pixabay 

FRANKS FOR THE MEMORY

There was a shuffling to my far left and a quick glance revealed only the back of public relations legend Lynne Franks as she rooted in a bag under the table.  The black clad presentation team in the centre of the room was looking apprehensive as she emerged with a handful of tabloid newspapers.  Her voice rang out, ‘Stop Jane, this isn’t us, this is so formal and corporate.  We are not like that.  We know people, we are connected – let’s throw that (the presentation) away and I’ll tell you about what you need to do”

Recovery and Renewal

The story had begun back in July 1992 when I suggested to Allan Leighton that ASDA could half its PR expenditure on agency support.  My view was that the extant agency did not meet the urgent demands of a business that was fighting for recovery after recently staving off bankruptcy.  Saving more than half a million pounds in annual cost (about a million pounds at 2022 rates) was not an insignificant sum.

I had joined ASDA three months earlier as the share price fell to its lowest and only six months after an emergency rights issue had helped stave off bankruptcy.  Archie Norman had been parachuted in by the October to lead a turnaround that would become a Harvard Business School Case Study.  The military metaphor reflects his later comment about crisis situations that when you’re the leader and you’ve landed in the jungle your team expect you to know which way to march.

I shortlisted three agencies after initial discussions around a brief which could have been distilled into two simple lines.  Get one piece of positive national media coverage every week at half the current expenditure.  It was audacious because we were only third in terms of market share, no other retailer was close to achieving coverage that regularly and we wanted focus on the tabloids and TV that reached most of our customers, at a time when competitors were schmoozing the broadsheets.     

Pitch Imperfect

Fast forward to 11 November 1992 as a panel of Archie, Allan, Paul Dowling (Corporate Affairs Director) and I were receiving presentations from the three agencies.  The incumbent had declined to participate but had fought a bloody rearguard action accusing the entire in-house PR team of incompetence.  And the presentations had not started well.

First up was a major PR name of the era who had FMCG and retail experience aplenty and a smooth pitch which featured, for reasons that escape me now, new technology that allowed shoppers to track their expenditure as they went round the store.  It was really just a calculator connected to the trolley and it needed recharging every three hours, but it seemed heady stuff at the time.  It was a terrific presentation up to the point where Archie asked the classic question, “How much?”

The answer of £1.1m went down like the proverbial bucket of sick.  Archie looked to his right which was, unfortunately, my direction with an intensity that spelt real danger for wasting his time.  I was totally gobsmacked that the agency, who had been given a very clear steer on fee and expenses expectations, had been quite so brazen.

Ninja Attack

It was fortunate that the presentations were strictly one hour in duration and there was no time to debate what we had seen before I was shooing them out and scuttling down the corridor to collect Lynne Franks PR.  It was like entering a ninja convention with so many people dressed head to toe in black and grey.  Lynne’s pink coat, plastic shopping bags and bohemian look provided a colourful counterpoint to her colleagues.

The presentation began with the ninjas – led by Jane Boardman the putative account director  – using enormous boards with very few words on them to present.  Big ideas, simple ideas, presented with conviction and style.  It was compelling and controlled until the rustling in the corner started.

Emerging from under the desk Lynne threw a pile of newspapers on the desk and opened The Sun before ripping out a page and throwing it towards the bemused corporate team sitting in judgement on her agency.  “That’s one of ours…,” another rip and the Daily Mirror page was despatched towards the bemused panel judging the presentation.  “And so is that…,” the tearing frenzy continued. 

In the centre of the room two presenters were frozen beside the gigantic boards.  The strategic big picture was wilting under the intensity of a founder who had decided that the way to deal with sceptical suits was to show results here and now.  I learnt later that Lynne had not been directly involved in preparing the pitch and had chosen to embark on a freelance mission of shock and awe with papers picked up at the airport that day.

It was clear that the dramatic intervention had captured Archie’s attention.  Imagine the scene in Heat where De Niro and Pacino, as criminal and detective, discuss their ideologies while trying to psychoanalyze each other.  Their biographies had Archie as Charterhouse, Cambridge, Harvard, McKinsey and FTSE100 while Lynne was Minchenden Grammar, shorthand/typing at Pitman’s College, a regular dancer on Ready Steady Go, journalist and PR company founder. 

But the differences that existed in education, upbringing, gender, and career choices faded under the weight of a principal-to-principal moment and when the frenzied ripping paused Archie moved swiftly to the point. “Why would we believe you’re any different to every other PR agency?”  It seemed obvious enough but Archie had a way of suckering mediocre people into obvious or rehearsed responses which were then flayed for lacking insight or interest.  Being provocative, challenging, unexpected or even slightly crazy was always the better way to go.

Some key words in the response included “leverage”, “Lenny Henry”, “ASDA”.  Lynne turned the world of public relations into a trading proposition where her agency had showbiz collateral and we could benefit.  It was right in the sweet spot of a retail business mindset and bridged the gap to explain why an agency known for fashion and celebrity clients had something unique to offer a grocery store.

Eventually Lynne’s explanation dried up and she looked to the team as if a little shocked at her own intervention.  Without comment, Jane picked up as if nothing had happened. It was a characteristic unflappability and focus on delivery which marked the following years of leading the team that worked with ASDA.

Although attention moved back to the big boards it was like moving from heavy metal to soothing sonatas.  All of the strategies, plans and processes made sense but we were still absorbing the Sturm und Drang.  The good news for me was that the proposed budget came in smack on the nose at half the price of the incumbent.

Aries Rising

After the drama the third agency were competent but not even close.  We discussed the balance between cost, experience, track record and potential and whether Lynne was key or we would even get any of her time.  As it happened, she departed the business shortly after leaving a company where Samantha Royston in her late 20s was Managing Director and Julian Henry, still in his early thirties, was probably the elder amongst the management team.        

The agreement was that Allan should visit their offices to see the operation.  He arrived at least half an hour ahead of the scheduled time but the office desks were filled, as I later found out with many friends and relatives, even further in advance.  It was set on Harrow Road W9 and far away from the bright lights and high costs of the West End – another tick in the box for a client whose operating principles included “we hate waste”.

It was only as Allan was leaving that he passed Lynne sitting with her office door open.  They said hello and she told him that she had been kept out of the way.  When he confirmed he had seen enough to tell her that we would be signing up Lynne told him that she was an Aries and her horoscope had said it would be a good day.  It is unclear if she knew that he was also born under the sign of the ram.   

Outcomes Count

I never met Lynne Franks in person again and can only pay tribute to her extraordinary career as well as her influence as a spokesperson for women’s rights and sustainability.  I am told that she liked to have all her media teams to have had some cold calling or other sales experience in their lives.  It’s always seemed like good advice to me. 

Following the appointment of LFPR, monthly measurement showed that ASDA’s national PR coverage consistently trounced the sector competitors.  The company’s recovery and renewal saw it eventually being sold to WalMart for £6.7bn in 1999. The LFPR and in-house PR team deserve recognition for their part in building a reputation that supported this outcome. 

NOTES

It’s impossible to remember everyone but a few thanks.  

Jane Boardman (now CEO at M&C Saatchi Talk) who led the team and Graham Goodkind (Chairman of Frank PR). The PR powerhouse that is Sue Finnegan (founder of proof PR), who I later recruited to join the in-house team, and other colleagues including Tanya Hughes, Frankie, Lambert, Dorcas Jamieson and Francesca Lee.  LFPR was overseen during the time by Samantha Royston Wainstein (now Chair of the Mark Milsome Foundation), as MD then as CEO and Chair.  Julian Henry went on to found Henry’s House and is now Global Head of Communications for XIX Entertainment.    

LFPR worked with the in-house team including Julie Eaton (later of Hill and Knowlton and recognized in the prestigious World Press Photo Awards 2014), Kathryn Williamson (later head of global PR for British Airways and now Director of Communications for English Rugby),  Jeni Cropper and Victoria Wick, who all helped make the difference.  It’s fair to say it was a talented team.

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay 

This Time It’s Different Because…

While hoping for the best it is increasingly difficult to believe that the next two years won’t be very tough.  The economic news changes by the day and there is still little certainty about the process for removing the various lockdown measures around the world.  It is even tempting to not to write until the dust has settled. 

A number of commentators have suggested that higher education is counter-cyclical in terms of student growth and refer to the experience of the ‘great recession’ of 2008.  But I recently quoted Charlie Munger, vice chairman of Berkshire Hathaway who said of the current situation, “This thing is different”, and I doubt that previous global shocks a good guide to what might happen this time around.  For home and international student enrollments this may even be a fundamental turning point.

This is not a counsel of despair.  There are signs that many students are still keeping their options open before deciding whether to travel across country or overseas for study.  But the backdrop to their decision making and the factors constraining countries, let alone universities, are far more complex than 2008.  

….it really is Global

The 2008 recession for the G20-zone (85% of all gross world product  (GWP) is often called a global recession which lasted  from mid‑2008 until 2009.  But while 2009 saw real GDP rates fall in virtually all of Europe, along with Canada and the US, the reality was that China, India, South America and almost all of Africa had GDP growth.  The coming recession may be V, W, L or swoosh shaped, but it seems likely that every country in the world will have a dip in GDP this year.   

China was never in recession throughout the period of what was called the ‘great recession’ but the first quarter of 2020 saw the Chinese economy shrink for the first time since 1976.

…Established Student Sources May Not Drive Growth

China’s GDP growth was at 14.7% in 2007 and remained above 9% until 2012.  Its 20-24 year age group grew by 13 million between 2007 and 2011.  These factors fueled international student growth through the ‘great recession’.

According to HESA data, between 2007/08 and 2011/12 the number of Chinese students in UK universities grew by over 33,000 to 78,715.  The next largest growth was from India which grew just under 14,000 from 25,905 to 39,090 by 2010/11 before falling back to 29,900 as Government visa policies hardened.

In the US, Open Doors data indicates that 2007/08 was the first year since 2001/02 that international student enrollments had got above 560,000.  By 2011/12 the number of enrollments had increased by a further 120,000.  China contributed over 100,00 of that increase.   

China’s university age population is stable but at lower levels than a decade ago and financial pressure on the middle class was already evident before the coronavirus.  Add in the safety concerns and it is little wonder that the British Council found that Chinese students had a high propensity to reconsider plans for the coming year.    

…Oil Glut and Increased Production Capacity

In the previous recession oil prices dipped rapidly but recovered within two years.  This time round some benchmark oil prices have gone negative early in the pandemic and the global oil glut is considered by some to be similar to the 1980s when prices stayed low for several years.  The impact is exemplified by Saudi Arabia’s reduction of $27bn in net foreign assets in just the month of March.  Development of technology and the re-emergence of the US as a dominant producer seem certain to make it difficult to constrain production in a way that forces prices up.  

It seems unlikely that, in the foreseeable future, any government will be able or willing to fund substantial scholarship schemes driven by oil wealth.

…Quality, Value and Availability of Online Degrees

In 2009 it is estimated that there were 5.5m students worldwide taking at least one course online, but by 2017 it was estimated to be over 6m in the US alone.  By 2019, 98% of public universities and colleges in the US offered some form of online program and the University of Pennsylvania had become the first Ivy-league institution to offer a bachelors’ degree totally online. 

In the ‘great recession’ the for-profit universities were at the forefront of online education.  This time around there is, literally, a world of choice and great brand names available to students.  Students wanting to get a degree do not have to incur the health risk, the uncertainty or the extra cost of an on-campus experience.

Online has provided a short-term response to the coronavirus but students may find it a cheaper and more convenient option for future study.

…Cost of Higher Education to Students

Analysis suggests that going to college in the US in 2018/19 was 25.3% (private) and 29.8% (public) more costly than in 2008/09 on a like-for-like dollar basis.   Forbes has estimated that between 1989 and 2016 the cost of going to college grew eight times faster than average annual wages. 

In England the introduction of £9,000 a year student fees didn’t occur until 2012.  By 2019 average student debt on entry to repayment was £35,950 compared to £11,720 in 2009.  Rising levels of debt have not, thus far, deterred students in England from going to university but it’s on their minds. 

As importantly, universities have been obliged to spend significant amounts on attracting students from less well represented backgrounds.  The government debt burden has also been significantly increased as the real cost of student loans was added in late 2019.  Faced with the cost of combatting coronavirus and a global recession students, universities and the Government may be less willing to absorb these costs.

The cost of going into higher education has become increasingly difficult for any of the stakeholders to absorb – even before the pandemic.

….Attitudes Towards the Value of Higher Education Degree Have Hardened 

UK and the US students have never paid more for their degree and there is some evidence that disenchantment has set in.  In 2013, Gallup found that 70% of U.S. adults considered a college education to be “very important,” 23% felt it was “fairly important” and 6% said it was “not too important.”  In 2019, those figures had shifted to 51%, 36% and 13%, respectively with even bigger negative shifts seen in the 18-29 age group.

Longitudinal evidence about student sentiment is harder to come by in the UK but this year’s graduating students will be the first under the higher English fee level to come into a world where unemployment is rising.  UK unemployment following the ‘great recession’ peaked at just over 8% in 2011.  It is likely that the job market will be tough for at least a couple of years.

The value of a degree has always been partly about having choices and career options.  The rising cost of education and the gloomiest jobs market for a decade may make potential students rethink their decisions.  The UK Government may be forced to reconsider whether Post Study Work visas are creating too much competition for scarce jobs.

…and New Options May Be More Attractive

A recession is likely to focus this argument on the ways a workforce is able to help a country emerge from recession.  It is claimed by Upwork that the 20 fastest growing skills on their Skills Index do not require a degree.  It notes that in 2018 Glassdoor said, “Increasingly, there are many companies offering well-paying jobs to those with nontraditional education or a high-school diploma.”

Non-traditional education options focused on work skills have grown rapidly and the lockdown may be driving more people in that direction.  Udemy has already seen a surge of interest in its online courses, particularly in AI and machine learning.  A trend towards skills-oriented learning, whether online or in short-courses, leading to a qualification may become better established.

The safety of university degrees offering shelter from the jobs market for three or four years come at a high cost.  It seems possible that the new options available and the scramble to find work or avoid excessive HE costs will drive people towards focused solutions.   

This is not an exhaustive list but flags some things which seem materially different this time round.  The extent to which institutions are able to adapt and pivot to meet the needs of students and society may determine their ability to survive.  There will always be opportunities for the flexible, the creative and those who can offer value for money and the promise of a better future.

Image by WikiImages from Pixabay

SEEING GREATNESS, RADICAL CANDOR AND GETTING PERSONAL

It was a good time of year to be introduced to ‘How I Got Into College’, an edition of This American Life from September 2013. It tells the tale of a student – Emir Kamenica – and how a stolen library book got him into his dream school. Emir is a Bosnian refugee who is now the Richard O. Ryan Professor of Economics at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business.

The narrator and interviewer is Michael Lewis, the author of Moneyball (2003), The Big Short (2010) and The Undoing Project (2016). His introductory chapter in Liar’s Poker (1989) is among the most riveting piece of writing I have ever read. He is a marvellous teller of stories and this is no exception.

My interest was particularly taken by Emir’s memory of a single incident where a teacher took a personal interest in him. He tells how that moment changed his life and set him on the road to a doctorate from Harvard. The programme carries a surprise revelation that makes it a complex tale about belief, truth and memory.

When I read a quote attributed to Edmund Lee a few days later it seemed serendipitous. The end of the quote runs, ‘most of all surround yourself with those who see greatness within you even when you don’t see it yourself’. That does not mean people who show blind loyalty or supine agreement but those who care enough to challenge you and show you new ways of being.

The best leaders are able to see the ‘greatness’ within their colleagues. They recognise what people around them are capable of and have the personal courage and management skill to back their judgement. In doing this they usually give the individuals increased self-awareness and the confidence to more fully realise their potential.

Even in these self-revelatory days people are sometimes shy about telling the stories of how they were inspired, or which moments transformed their life. But these are tales worth recounting and sharing because they can help guide behaviour and are a good way of suggesting why looking for the potential in our friends and colleagues is a responsibility we should take seriously.

Without aspiring to compete with Emir’s extraordinary tale of struggle and achievement I recall my own pivotal moment at school with equal clarity (the irony of that statement will not be lost on those who have heard the programme). As a totally aimless and academically under-achieving 18-year-old I had decided to go to polytechnic to take a business studies course. In those pre-1992 days polytechnics in the UK were decidedly second-class to universities and my ‘choice’ was based upon having no better ideas for avoiding unemployment.

Shortly afterwards an unmistakeable New Zealand accent at full volume cut through the noise of several hundred children changing classes at my large comprehensive school in Essex. My English teacher had spotted me half-way down the stairs and had a point to make. ‘Alan Preece,’ she hollered. ‘You are not going to do business studies. You are going to be a journalist. See me later.’

Yvonne Cull, the English teacher, felt that young people needed to be treated like adults but required intervention, direction and unflinching honesty. Her classes were bracing sessions where the themes of power, manipulation, lust and love in Shakespeare were reinforced by making us interrogate our own teenage desires and passions. Lessons were often provocative and seldom comfortable, but she never stopped trying to help us understand that the stories were about the human condition and people just like us.

When she confronted me with the possibility of becoming a journalist she did not spare my blushes. She was candid about the need to overcome my lack of application, my mistaken belief that native wit was a substitute for research, and my tendency to continue defending positions long after they had been overrun by better arguments.  But she filled me with a belief, based on her personal opinions, that I had the skills to do a job which involved enquiry, balancing opinions, and writing.

Mrs Cull went even further. She had researched the options and found a suitable course run by the National Council for the Training of Journalists (NCTJ). She made me sit in her home one evening to complete the application, she posted it, wrote a letter of recommendation and prepared me for the interview. Having secured a place, I failed my A-levels, but she pushed me to re-take them so I could join the course a year later.

Nowadays, I might consider this moment in my history as an example of radical candor – ‘the ability to challenge directly and show you care personally at the same time’. Kim Scott’s 2017 book on the subject is a good read and captures the subject well. As well as developing the theory it recounts a terrific example involving Sheryl Sandberg who was her boss at Google.

I didn’t go on to be the investigative journalist that Mrs Cull thought I could become. Armed with my NCTJ course award I secured a place in the press office of Tesco which became the stepping stone to public relations, marketing and eventually board level roles as COO and CEO. Throughout those years I was armed with the knowledge that, despite their own busy life, someone had thought well enough of me to share their belief in my potential.

There have, of course, been other ‘sliding door’ moments in my career when senior colleagues have made a firm intervention to show me a different way of being. Most of these occasions have been intensely personal, very direct and driven by their belief that I could do better and be more. For those leaders there was a role for training courses, theories and structure but there were also times when vivid, focused, personal engagement was their way of making a difference.

 

 

 

 

 

Accidents Will Happen

In response to Jillian Braverman’s recent post about learning more from mistakes than successes I committed to select some examples from my own career. The whole process was a good reminder about the benefits of reflective practice. Getting better at accepting personal fallibility is a reasonable defence against being careless, neglectful or just plain stupid.

It also helps to avoid the trap of ‘unconscious competency’ where a level of mastery and familiarity encourages repeating actions without conscious evaluation. I’m grateful to Andy Green for introducing me to the notion of ‘super-competency’ where someone who is highly accomplished in a discipline continually challenges and refreshes their skill. The best people never stop learning.

Some of the greatest creative forces in history have also pointed to the danger of believing excellence in a skill or a way of thinking is an end in itself. Picasso observed that, ‘It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.’ Leonardo da Vinci said that, “The greatest deception men suffer is from their own opinions.” Throughout their lives they were involved in a relentless search for improvement.

While few can match the creativity and inventiveness of these titans my small contribution here is three occasions when errors have held valuable lessons and changed my way of thinking.

CLARIFY THE BRIEF AND ITS IMPLICATIONS
Late in the process of producing an Annual Report, I was asked by an HR Director to arrange a short version to be sent to all 70,000+ staff. Under time pressure and wanting to impress I re-drafted the text as a summary, re-purposed the existing visuals and got the design agency to do layout for free. I felt pretty good about having got the job done in budget and on-time.

But at final proof stage the HR Director said he had wanted something original and entirely focused on the employee audience. My annoyance at time and effort wasted was only exceeded by my embarrassment at failing to clarify the brief. Always understand the purpose and intended outcomes of a job before starting it and make sure that you have clarified the time and cost implications of any course of action.

Kipling is instructive:
I keep six honest serving-men
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
And How and Where and Who.

(“I keep six honest serving-men.” Rudyard Kipling. First published in the Ladies’ Home Journal, April 1900)

It is also usually worth reminding budget-holders making late requests that the iron triangle comprising cost, speed and quality can usually only have two side fulfilled at the same time.

BEWARE HUBRIS AND LACK OF PREPARATION
One of my employer’s open-plan office culture led to the wearing of ‘red caps’ to indicate you were not to be disturbed. Local interest had me appearing on regional TV where, on the spur of the moment, I stated that we thought it was a great gift for the upcoming Father’s Day. Slightly carried away by my own cleverness I said that we’d be selling them in one of our local stores that Saturday.

The scramble to source red caps, at anything like a reasonable cost, involved the whole team for the next two days. Particularly when I decided that they needed to have a big D, for Dad, emblazoned on them. But I took delivery of the caps late one night and found myself in a nearby store early the next morning.

Given a prime spot near the entrance and alongside the clothing section I was confident that I would be sold out and back home by noon. 12 hours later I had not sold one, despite the asking price plummeting from a fiver (which was at cost) to 50p. I could not bring myself to just give them away but had learnt many lessons.

Making a claim without thinking it through is not a good place to start. Compounding the situation by adding specifications, something akin to ‘mission drift’, is equally unwise. But most importantly I learnt at first hand and on my own time how hard it is to make money by selling things. It was an early step on a long road from being in public relations to leading a £100m turnover commercial organisation.

MUTUAL APPRECIATION AND ENTHUSIASM ARE RARELY ENOUGH
After several years in one job I was slightly restless and applying for anything that looked interesting. When the call came it was welcome, the process rapid and it felt like love at first sight. The lure of global opportunity and building a team from a low base seemed too good to miss.

Sadly, I had missed that what attracted the company to me were things I had done earlier in my career but were not my intended direction of development. An early visit to the parent company disabused me of my belief that I would be able to spread my wings internationally. And the ‘low base’ was destined to stay that way for the foreseeable future.

In relationships it is in the interests of both parties to temper good rapport with critical thinking. I was flattered by the attention and I did not ask enough questions to understand their situation. As importantly, I was not wholly transparent about my expectations.

Whether it’s a new job, a business partner or a personal friend there is not enough goodwill or money in the world to make it work long term unless aspirations, values and practicalities are honestly shared. And you have to be prepared to walk away however much you like people and want things to work out.

*****

Mistakes are part of learning and it is reasonable to expect that if you are pushing hard and on the edges of your ability or experience you will make more of them. As long as you have not staked what you or your company cannot afford to lose, every error brings insight and few are terminal. It’s always good advice to believe that what matters is what you do next.

Rage on the Stage or Pride from the Side

The English Premier League has attracted some of the highest profile football coaches in the world. A combination of money, glamour and opportunity have created the perfect platform for them to work with some of the best players in the world. But these coaches increasingly display even bigger egos than their players and engage in outbursts of anger and unrestrained emotion on the pitch after games have finished. Are there any lessons for management?

It is the tendency to march onto the pitch at the end of the match that has been the most striking development. Maybe they feel they have to express their leadership prowess as a coda to the game and the efforts of their team. Or it could be the ultimate in scent marking, allowing the team to do its best before marching onto the pitch to display their alpha male credentials in front of the world. They know that the cameras are following them and that they will have opportunities in the press room to express their opinions verbally but they cannot resist the opportunity to physically impose themselves on the field.

This weekend we saw Jurgen Klopp of Liverpool being pulled away from abusing the referee after some controversial decisions at the end of the match with Tottenham Hotspur. He had pulled his own players away from the referee so clearly didn’t think they were up to the job. And he suffered the ignomy of being ushered away by a peer (Pochettino, the Spurs manager) who could see how embarrassing Jurgen’s behaviour had become. Jurgen has previous behaviour in using his 6’4” frame to intimidate officials to take into account.
Recently we have also seen the reputedly cerebral Pep Guardiola of Manchester City, a team setting the pace in the Premier League, on the pitch berating and physically manhandling a player of the opposition team. The player, rather than giving Pep the shove he probably deserved, maturely explained that he had been carrying out the plan of his own manager with focus and discipline. It was an admirable demonstration of restraint by the 23 year old Redmond faced with a ranting 47-year old who should know better.

And Antonio Conte of Chelsea has become renowned for cavorting on the pitch after games and celebrating with maniacal energy. Perhaps he is trying to capture some of the glory he misses from his days as a five times championship winning player with Juventus in Italy. Or maybe he is making up for the disappointment of being left out of the Italy team for the 1994 World Cup final.

There is no doubt that these coaches are driven, intense and charismatic characters who are among the best in the world at their trade. I would not argue that they should reduce their passion for the game or their commitment to excellence and winning. But their behaviour after matches tends to make them more of a focus than the teams they coach and does not lead anywhere good by way of example. And that is the antithesis of management.

Perhaps their actions are more a demonstration of their insecurity and need to maintain position. Research has suggested that the motivation to seek or maintain one’s rank promotes aggressive behaviors. Approximately 48% of men and 45% of women identify status/reputation concerns as the primary reason for their last act of aggression, and the experimental induction of status motives increases aggressive tendencies in both men and women (Griskevicius et al., 2009). (quoted in Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, Two Ways to the Top: Evidence that Dominance and Prestige are Distinct yet Viable Avenues to Social Rank and Influence, Cheng JT.

So, is seems possible that the actions of Guardiola, Klopp, Conte et al are not, as they often claim, about their ‘passion’ for the game but a naked outpouring of anger intended to maintain their position as alpha male leading their troupe. It seems likely that the era of the celebrity head coach, and the increasing fear of loss of status if matches are not won, has created a feedback loop where managers feel the need to beat their breasts and roar at the end of each game. And possibly this is because those with the biggest egos and gift for self-publicity get the biggest jobs where being under the spotlight means purchasing top players and fitting them in rather than building teams, creating value and nurturing talent from the rawest recruits.

Those who have had the honour and pleasure of developing outstanding individuals and merging their talents to create a dynamic, focused and winning group understand that feeling of pride and protectiveness. But the best managers I have known have had the knack of standing back at the moment of victory to allow their team to bask in the glory of success. They have also been adept at taking setbacks, understanding the development needs and rapidly refocusing the team on the next challenge.

In that respect I recall a moment at ASDA in the early 1990s when we had smashed the Xmas trading targets and the head office marketing and trading teams were pretty smug at our own brilliance. The ASDA team of that era was filled over time with CEOs and Chairmen in waiting, Mike Coupe (Sainsbury), Steven Cain (Carlton Communications, Coles, Metcash), Justin King CBE (Sainsbury), Andy Bond (ASDA, Poundland), Andy Hornby (HSBC, Alliance Boots, Coral), Richard Baker (Boots Group, Groupe Aeroplan), Ian McLeod (Celtic FC, Halfords, Coles). The sense of self-satisfaction was ended abruptly when Allan Leighton, at that time the Marketing Director but later serial CEO or Chairman across organisations as diverse as Pandora, Royal Mail and LastMinute.com, walked into a meeting with hand-written, photocopied notes to tell us we were coasting through the new year and needed to regroup and step up our efforts. It was a good lesson.

The best managers I have known have absorbed the pressure when their team is struggling but stepped back at the moment of glory. They may share the celebration and mutual admiration in private but their public position is to hand credit to their ‘players’. Of course, they have been prepared to lead from the front when necessary and have been fiercely protective of their people. But generally speaking their obsession was with selecting and developing good people, ensuring integration, enabling performance, setting standards and consistently looking towards the next challenge.

What they have never done is encourage senseless, unstructured fights with authority (which is different to disagreeing with the status quo and planning how to change things); openly displaying triumphalism and hubris; or, acting with anything less than due regard for the quality of the opposition and the danger they present. Those principles have never prevented them being fiercely determined, robust, resilient and committed to victory.

Why Right Backs Are The Best Football Pundits

TV coverage of football in the UK or US has become a multi-camera, technically efficient business. But it is made significantly more or less pleasurable by the ex-player pundits who give their insights on the game, the players and the managers. I’d suggest that Gary Neville and Lee Dixon – both right backs in their playing days – are the cream of the crop.
So, I began to wonder whether the playing position of a pundit is a guide to their style? Do some positions breed the most interesting analysts? And are there any characteristics inherent in the position that might influence their development as analysts?
In the good old days the BBC’s Match of the Day was dominated by the dour efficiency of Liverpool’s duo of Hansen and Lawrenson. The performance reflected their playing careers and the Liverpool of their era. They were solid, consistent and disliked Manchester United with a passion, but they reflected an era which is long gone and eventually, like Liverpool, were knocked off their perch.
As central defenders they were used to patrolling the width of the penalty box but were likely to get a nose-bleed if they went beyond half-way in open play. Usually negative and seldom complimentary they epitomised a football era of hard men, hooliganism, and horrible hair-cuts. They also scored the occasional, spectacular own goal as Hansen’s early season comment about Manchester United’s youthful 1995/96 Championship winning team – ‘you can’t win anything with kids’ – shows.
The wonderfully opinionated Eamon Dunphy summarised the problem when he said of Match of the Day, “They just talk drivel. Whoever is winning is great, whoever isn’t, isn’t. It’s banal. And also semi-literate at times … they never criticise in an intelligent way. Anything that isn’t banal is said to be an outburst. They’ve created this cartoon world where everyone talks like Lineker and says nothing.”
Which brings me to the contribution of Gary Neville and Lee Dixon. The former with twenty major trophies to his name and ten years as his country’s first choice right back. The latter with four league championships, three FA cups and a UEFA Cup win as well as 22 England appearances. They know what it is like to play for an extended period chasing the biggest prizes at the highest level.
But playing in the right back position gave them more. From their corner of the pitch they had a panoramic view of the entire game. They recognised their obligations to defend diligently but also had to spring forward at pace to make critical decoy runs and give pinpoint crosses. Along with the energy to go from box to box like the best midfielders they were expected to be able to cover laterally behind their, usually more ponderous, central defenders.
Right backs know they are never the ‘best’ player in the team (whatever Roberto Carlos might have thought) but perhaps they become the most complete. They are expected to have a crunching tackle, the energy of a Duracell Bunny (Energizer Bunny to US readers) and the humility to pass the ball quickly to a player considered more creative. They also have to be truly multi-skilled and, at the very least competent, in heading, passing, crossing, intercepting and tracking. Above all they have to be able to think flexibly.
Early in their careers Neville and Dixon would have worked out that the game is full of wingers who were faster and trickier than them. So, they developed judgement on when to engage closely and when to drop off or shepherd the attacker down the line. Their position at the corner of the team formation meant they engaged in individual duals but also had to cajole, organise and communicate with team mates to protect the goal at the moments of greatest threat.
Neville and Dixon have very different styles. The former is more intense and focused while the latter is generally relaxed and conversational. But they recognise individual qualities and weaknesses as well as they understand systems, opportunities and threats.
They are self-effacing but confident; organised but flexible; tough but empathetic; thoughtful but communicative. They have taken the lessons of the game, their personal determination to improve and the unique insights of their playing position to become informed and clear communicators for TV viewers world-wide. They are able to make a caustic comment as readily as they committed a tactical foul but also know how to tread the line between yellow and red card.
Other players seem to carry the limitations or burdens of their position and skill set with them. Strikers like to be the centre of attention, midfielders are either destroyers or too cool for school and even Rio Ferdinand has been unable to shake the view that central defenders should be seen and not heard. Goalkeepers reflect philosopher/keeper Albert Camus’ dictum ‘that a ball never arrives from the direction you expected it’ and treat every opportunity to comment as if it is a trick question.
Some examples from the modern day to flesh out the theory?
Central strikers Alan Shearer and Ian Wright – or ‘chippy’ and ‘chirpy’ as I think of them – encore their playing days on TV. Aggressive, efficient Shearer bulldozes his way past alternative opinions, takes every chance to settle personal scores and does not willingly pass opportunities to colleagues. His most famous quote appears to be “Football’s not just about scoring goals – it’s about winning.” He could do one pretty well but not the other as Gary Lineker once pointed out.
The hyperactive Wright on the other hand seems totally charming. Full of energy, lively runs and little dinks. But as an instinctive goalscorer living on half-chances and hunches there is no sense of strategy and he misses the mark too often at the very top level. Even then he is more interesting than Michael Owen whose analysis is a sad reminder that he lost a vital extra half-yard of pace in his final years.
It is rare to see a world-class midfielder sitting regularly in the pundit’s chair, although some might argue the case for Glenn Hoddle who has become a staple of the England national team’s TV appearances. He brings to the role the same mix of laid-back ineffectiveness, occasional laser-beam accuracy and bizarre fringe beliefs (nobody should forget the faith-healing and karma incidents) that disrupted his career as England player and manager.
Whenever an outstanding midfielder does appear, Steven Gerrard and Paul Scholes are occasional cameo performers, their mastery of the game seems to tell against them. They could ping a ball 40 yards onto a sixpence, hit stunning volleys into the top right-hand corner from outside the box, and control a game . But in the pundit’s seat they look bemused, stilted and unable to articulate why others do not find it so easy.
Roy Keane and Graham Souness, midfield geniuses of a different type, just seem angry at everyone and everything. Perhaps their experiences as modestly successful managers has made them long for the days when they took direct, preferably immediate, personal retribution on the field and scared the living daylights out of opposition and team-mates alike. One imagines their final contribution to punditry might be a disagreement in the studio that ends with a Cantona kung-fu kick , a Zidane head-butt (readers of a nervous disposition may choose not to follow the next two links)… or a Keane or Souness red-card tackle.
NBC in the US has opted for midfield dependability, and people called Robbie, with the duo of Mustoe and Earle offering solid professionalism from careers including long stints at Middlesborough and Wimbledon respectively. Their insights come from many hours on the pitch but it’s difficult to see the pairing offering too much on players’ psychology as they chase Premier League and Champions League silverware. That said they are both thoughtful and considered and a credit to the world of Robbies which is more than can be said of Robbie Savage, whose comments are often as misguided and deserving of a red card as his hairstyle, passing and tackling.
I recognise that this sample is notably short of women football pundits. This is down to the woeful coverage of women’s soccer in the UK up to and including the current day, as well as the relatively limited opportunities contenders have had to settle into the role. Sue Smith was among the first to come to prominence and for the 2017 Women’s European Championship Channel 4 put together a team of Aluko, Smith and O’Reilly with Lucy Ward in commentary. All of them midfielders or forwards!
Given my view about right backs the current England players Lucy Bronze and Rachel Daly may have great futures on TV ahead of them when they retire. Although Steph Houghton could bring a new dimension to my theory from her position at left-back. Her comments after matches and her broader You Tube presence show a keen football brain and strong communication skills.
It is difficult to see beyond Neville and Dixon as the best of the bunch. The former has even forced Jamie Carragher to raise his game when they share the screen at Sky. There may even be new stars emerging from the next World Cup. But for now – right backs rule.