A free press? Really?

A Free Press? Really? from Larner C on Vimeo.

Apologies. I took the same attitude with my editing skills as News International do with their morals: shoddy.

Full of all good intentions today, a brief history of News International begs the question of just how sincere Mr. Murdoch is being here.

4, 13, 15, 20 and 300 therapeutic reasons to be cheerful

Mic of Doom by Jon Eland (@strawbleu)

I've always had a real thing about speaking in public. Almost a phobia. Cold sweats; hot flushes - and that's before numerous trips to the loo.

This is not to be confused with presenting creative work to a panel of stony faced marketing bods or trying to persuade a city council to go with my branding for a major part of their beloved city.

Nope - they're two different things entirely. Like loo roll and sandpaper; like taking things at a canter or having the trots: totally different experiences.

When presenting creative work I'm responsible for, I know it inside out. I'll have assessed my audience. I'll have an inclination they'll be half-receptive to my ideas. And I get to move the slides on at my pace. So I'm calm, relaxed and relishing the challenge.

Public speaking for me has always been something far more daunting than an enjoyable challenge. It's been an inhospitable mountain to climb with hell fire at the bottom, vomit-inducing dizzy heights at the top and evil little trolls waiting to laugh at your every move all the way up.

Bettakultcha, with its automatic 15 second slide format, takes things out of your control to an extent. It's a bit like releasing the brake on a rickety old train carriage on 1 to 1 incline down a Klondyke gold mine.

Bettakultcha at The Corn Exchange by Tricky (@sovietuk)

But for me, Bettakultcha is a wonderful event for so many reasons. Started by two blokes in Leeds, Richard Michie and Ivor Tymchak, the first events took place in front of 50 or 60 people at the awesome Temple Works building in Leeds, lovingly curated by Phil Kirby. Bettakultcha has since been staged at various other venues, the last couple at the should-be world-famous Corn Exchange. Some have said that Bettakultcha is losing its rough, bohemian edge - I don't think so. You can still bring your own bottle, presentations can be about anything from online comic strips to the wonderful work that people do to help people with cystic fibrosis, to why Star Wars is based on the Mills & Boon format - and the fact that the Bettakultcha phenomenon can now involve far more people without losing its edge is worth it.

The format is simple: 13 speakers, 20 slides of 15 seconds each in front of a wonderfully eclectic crowd. Oh and 4 very brave random sliders to top off what is a brilliant evening. It's been described as a middle class variety show. I'd describe it as one of the best events not only that Leeds has to offer, but also that contributes to making Leeds a livelier, more creative, fulfilling place to be.

Presenting at Bettakultcha by Simon (@doggonwheels)

Bettakultcha VIII was held at The Corn Exchange on Tuesday the 12th April and I'd booked myself a slot to speak. It's part of my self-induced therapy. I guess I could seek professional help, but my view is that if I am going to tackle that mountain, I'm jumping in feet first, on my own. The audience at Bettakultcha is a huge help - I liken it to taking on The London Marathon for the first time: the crowd wants you to do well and adds an extra 10-20% to your performance. I did a 5 minute spell on viral marketing, a little tongue in cheek - but you can't really go too deep in in 300 seconds. I came off a little disappointed that I didn't get all my points across - some slides went faster than my addled mind would allow and the whole 300 seconds really did feel like 30.

But I'm glad I did it. I feel privileged to have been allowed to speak in such an amazing building. I'm extremely grateful to Richard and Ivor. And I'm very grateful to a forgiving audience. And I feel better for having done it. Now that's my kind of therapy.

Maria Millionaire by (@strawbleu)

Other great talks were on subjects including making lists, the link between comedy and magic, the history of drag, why Manchester is better than Leeds (controversial) and the madness of Kim Jong Il - not to pick anyone out in particular - every single presentation was hugely entertaining and you can find a list of the speakers here, along with previous events and speakers.

It's a great night. It's highly recommended by everyone here at Ouch (that'd be me) and it's something you should try at least once while you're in Leeds.

And talking of therapy, if you fancy a go at presenting at Bettakultcha (and so many of the audience seem to be inspired to do so) there's even some of that presentation therapy I've thus far avoided on offer, for free - the next one being on Friday 16th April.

Now I've climbed that mountain, I do actually fancy going to the class to find out how it's done properly!

Communication letting you down?

Apologies if I've just wedged that annoying Spandau Ballet tune in your head.

My excuse is I just had to mention a breakdown in communication I suffered today on that most majorist of major communication channels, Twitter.

No need for much explanation; the screenshot of the conversation, reading from bottom up, should do the trick (just click to enlarge if you're as blind as me).

I guess the words by the cursor say it all really and I guess it also just goes to prove at least two points:

1. I'm not half as funny as I thought I was and should probably scrap the childish, copywriter-based jokes.

2. If you're on Twitter to market your wares, do the thing that all those social media gurus go on about ad infinitum: engage.

Yup, sometime soon, 'engage' will become a very dirty word but if there's one medium in which you can actually have a conversation, get to know who you're talking to and do away with all those bludgeoning 18-wheel inarticulated sales techniques, it's Twitter.

Use it wisely, my sales friends.

Publicise or be damned

As someone who's cracked out more direct mail than you can wave a DL envelope at, the irony of an organisation in the communications industry on strike is not lost on me (unlike most of my love letters from Bouncy Knowles right now). The Royal Mail not only seems to refuse to embrace the future, it balks at the mere thought of even to talking to it. Mulling over this incongruity reminded me of an agency I did a spell with a while back in the capacity of CD. As I was there for a fair old time my commitment to the company cause was stronger than that of a quick project crafting a letter for a direct client and I began to take issue with the Board on one particularly thorny point. Yup, you guessed it, my pet subject of the moment; communication.

Now, if you're the MD of an agency that I've worked with and thinking, 'Hey, that's me you infidel...' don't get all paranoid - unless you're reading this from a distant place where the average temperature is slightly higher than nipple-erecting and Yorkshirish is definitely not the native tongue. And if you’re just wondering who the hell this agency is, you know confidentiality is my only currency.

So what did I notice in my short, but long-enough time there? Well firstly, I was aware that the company had a fairly high and frequent turnover of staff. I then soon became aware that the people who were there for the duration weren’t there out of commitment to the cause but just glad to be in work. Who wouldn’t be in these Spartan times? Then, like a lot of things that come in threes, I noticed the humdinger; this organisation did not hold any company meetings. Not one. Nada. Zilcho. My God, they didn’t even hold production meetings but don’t get me started on that.

Naturally, as a concerned and (albeit temporarily) committed member of the team, I queried with the Board the reasons behind the lack of information-sharing with the rest of the staff. And, like a Jack Russell with a serious bone of contention and a heavy dose of small-dog syndrome, I did this more times than I care to remember in the short time I was plying my trade there. Here are some of the responses I got:

“We’re not here to have a get-together, we’re here to service our clients.”

“What do they need to know? They get their briefs. They do the work.”

“They’re not the people who make the decisions.”

“Why take up valuable time chatting when we should improving the standard of our work?”

So why did all this matter to me? Why do those of you that do know me now see why I’ve got one or two more grey hairs than I had just a little while back?

Because, you know where this is going. Or more to the point, you have a fair idea where this company is going. That’s right, absolutely nowhere.

Because if you don’t involve your staff, it will feel uninvolved. People will believe they’re on the fringe because that’s right where you’re sticking them. And as such, they’ll naturally break away from the core group. If you don’t tell your people where the agency is going how can you ever expect them to drive in the right direction? If you don’t explain where the company could do better, how do you propose to improve in those areas? Or expect others who are doing well to step in and help? If you omit to reward success why should people strive for its dizzy heights again? If you don’t nurture the idea of individuals talking about the different work they’re producing in the name of the company how can you expect the cross-pollination of great ideas over different sectors and media to flourish? If you don’t take your people with you, how can you expect to create a brand that will be great, that will have serious equity and that you can sell to future clients and owners alike? The answer is you can’t.

Just like many of the clients this industry works with, you can’t ever hope to build an attractive, fully-rounded brand that future stakeholders and management teams will be crawling over themselves to inherit without your biggest brand asset – your people. It’s your people who have to live and breathe your brand values; your people that deliver your brand to the outside world. Yes, you may produce decent work from time to time but eventually that will suffer the symptoms of a conveyor belt of personnel delivering it. And yes, you may have an enviable client list but hey, that’s made up of people too – people who’ll soon cotton on to ever-changing account handlers and an inconsistent creative product.

So, if your exit strategy is to go on to bigger and better things or even if you’re hoping to spend the rest of your days on a lilo in Lloret nursing a pina colada, the only way to leave your agency in great shape for a sale and subsequent success is to lead your people to victory through the power of communication.

Ouch tip #999: If you’re raring to go for your next company get-together, remember you haven’t employed a bunch of accountants – avoid doing the financials in Swahili.

Tweet. Welcome to the world of self harm - agency branch

How strange. Agencies spend a bucket-load of time (and cash) building up their reputations, their credentials and their client base. Then along comes a relatively new and spangly thing that the very same agencies seem desperate to be seen to be using before a) fully understanding its implications and b) setting any kind of guidelines to staff. So desperate in fact, that all sensibility seems to have been knocked off its perch. Yes, I’m talking Twitter.

Now I guess this is aimed mainly at MDs, Board members and other seriously committed individuals within the organisation but I’m afraid it’s time to get a grip. The amount of tweets I’ve witnessed chirping from agencies all branded up with their lovely logo (a logo that, knowing how agencies work on their own work, also probably took a bucket-load of time, and tears to design) but are actually voiced by individuals expressing their own thoughts and opinions beggars belief.

Obviously, no names mentioned here but recent tweets, badged up with agency emblems, using agency names have included, “Oh no, Monday already”, “Feel like 5hit today, creativity’s gonna suffer” and “Can’t believe the X Factor result last night.”

Don't get me wrong; there are plenty of individuals out there representing their organisations brilliantly. And I’m freelancing right now so why should it bother me? Because the feeling I have for this industry runs as deep as I was when I was knocking out 12-14 hours a day as a Creative Director; because it hurts to see an industry that’s already suffering giving itself one more kick in the budgies and because… hello… you should know a damn sight better. You’re in marketing right? Brand perception?

The solution? Communication. Remember that? It’s what you do. Get everyone together and lay down a few ground rules:

1. Tweet by all means as an individual who just happens to work at an upbeat, lively and radical agency
2. Make it obvious your tweets are YOUR tweets and not those of your company
3. Decide whether you are actually tweeting as a fully branded up organisation and set up the following:

• At least two key stakeholders who can vet each other’s outpourings
• A consistent tone of voice
• A clear reason as to why you’re using this medium in the first place
• Objectives for what you want your tweets to achieve
• An understanding that once it’s out there, it’s out there for all to see and, perhaps more importantly, for clients and potential clients to form their own perceptions.

Because guess what: I’m guessing they don’t give two hoots about your views on the X Factor but they may be very interested to hear that a heavy weekend has lead to your staff not feeling as chirpy about their account as they should be.