The opposite of inspiration

A client’s main office has a thoroughly depressing interior despite the building’s landmark architecture. The drabness is made all the more noticeable in contrast to their recent brand refresh, which uses great colors and smart messaging.

Every time I visit I think about what a disconnect this is — the employee experience doesn’t match the bright, friendly customer experience they are trying so hard to create. They’ve overlooked the physical environment and employee experience as part of brand alignment, a common mistake.

I thought the endless clusters of beige cubes were the worst of it until I had a meeting in this conference room, which is apparently where teal chairs from the 80s go to die.

Small Giants

smallgiantsThe book Small Giants resonated with me in a way few business books ever have. Author Bo Burlingham defines small giants as “companies that choose to be great instead of big”, an idea near and dear to my heart.

As a young designer in Chicago, my employers and clients were small companies. At the time I wasn’t aware how special those early experiences and relationships were. The work seemed, frankly, boring and limiting. I was antsy to move on to bigger agencies and brands.

After relocating and landing in a Silicon Valley agency, I found myself deeply conflicted. My heart wasn’t in working for mainstream, consumer brands. I missed the thoughtfulness and intimacy of the work I had done before. I missed the sense of purpose gained from helping good people realize their dream of owning a thriving business. Words of wisdom from a long-forgotten designer echoed in my head:  “There are no good projects, only good clients.”

After the agency collapsed, I struck out on my own. Eager to get back to “good clients”, I thought about what my favorites had in common. Here’s what I knew: They sold something of tangible value, and they did it honestly. They were fair to suppliers and partners. They were small and closely held, often family-owned. They treated employees with respect and generosity. They were local businesses — what defined that wasn’t clear, but I knew it when I saw it — and they supported community service and philanthropy. In short, the world was better with than without them.

This led me to a loose concept of social responsibility: doing business with integrity, giving back to the community, and treating people well. It also seemed being privately held was the key to being able to control everything else. Those became my four criteria for choosing clients ten years ago.

Finding Small Giants was inspiring and validating. Finally, a cogent description of what I’d intuitively understood but been unable to define! An entire book about the business unicorns I love! I now have a clearer sense of who the right clients for me are, and new insights into what to look for.

One idea that hadn’t previously gelled as part of my definition was limited growth — choosing to grow only when it serves strategic goals and doesn’t sacrifice culture or ideals. Growth has become such an unquestioned requirement of business that not growing is surprisingly radical.

Another insight was that “small” isn’t necessarily what makes my clients a good fit for me. It’s having a family culture, engaged leadership, and sense of purpose where I thrive. While it’s certainly easier to maintain those in a small company, there may be mid-sized companies that also fit this bill.

I also love the inclusion of soul, or mojo, that Burlingham cites as a secret ingredient. Running counter to management playbooks and belief in predictive data, it acknowledges there is a special magic that allows a company to be intimately, deeply great. That I couldn’t concretely define what I loved about my clients makes sense — there is simply a quality. They either have it or they don’t, and no logic model can predict it.

Finding small giants is no easy feat. But with renewed inspiration and clarity, I look forward to seeking more of them as clients and also to doing my part to help aspiring small giants find their mojo.

The perfect sentence

Yesterday I experienced one of those rare moments when everything clicks into place and you realize you’ve created something perfect. One simple sentence capturing the essence of brand vision — it has personality and heart without being cutesy, and clarity without being tactical. It is, dare I say it, pithy!

We’ve been exploring brand strategy and key messaging for months, but until now we didn’t have the expression quite right. Considering I’m wrapping up the project this week, my perfect sentence is a timely capstone on a wonderful project!

Is Branding Dead?

Branding is a term I struggle with. My definition is out of step with mainstream usage that I know I’ll be misunderstood, yet I don’t know what else to call it.

Recently Bruce Temkin of Forrester spoke at Adaptive Path’s MX 2009 and he said that “brands are dying”, meaning companies are failing to sufficiently embed their brand into customer experiences. He followed this up by saying this offers an opportunity for companies better integrate their branding to swoop in and grab customers.

While I agree with him, I am still dismayed that he only mentions customer touchpoints. What’s nearly always missing from the brand experience conversation are the importance of non-consumer brand touchpoints — for example, community relationships and internal HR policies — that also play a role in shaping how your company is perceived. One of the few voices I hear echoing this is Marty Neumeier, who calls it Invisible Branding.

To me, true brand alignment means that every single decision you make, even those you think don’t matter, must be consistent with your values, goals, and strategies. To do this, you need to put brand experience and strategy at the core of an organization, driving all decision-making. Wanting to be the person who can accomplish this is the reason I decided to get an MBA.

But what do I call this? Is this brand management, or is it simply business strategy at this point?