marginally subversive

who is afraid of the big bad wolf called complexity?

i am quite surprised by people who always want and demand "simple solutions".

i get it:  there are merits to the elevator pitch.  that we all are time-poor.  that we don't have time to read reams and tons of documents.  that "simple is beautiful".

but sometimes, simple is just simply not enough.

we live in a complex world.  to deny that is to deny what is real.

the truth is - to get to a SIMPLE SOLUTION we will have to go through a myriad - perhaps infinite number - of potential solutions.

but no: we want quick-fix solutions to problems:

sales are going down - let's do a promotion.
awareness is nil - let's spend money.
people are not clicking through our ads - let's bombard them even more.
products aren't flying off the shelves - let's fire the ad people, the promo people, the graphic designer.
people are not talking about us online - let's pay bloggers.
people are bashing our brands - delete their comments.
people think our products are expensive - let's cut prices.
stock prices have been stagnant for 4 weeks - let's fire the ceo.
we're the market leader - let's kill the smaller players.

we want simple solutions to problems that are very complex.

 

well.

life is not simple.

business is not simple.

marketing is not simple.

people are not simple.

how we think isn't simple.

how we choose isn't simple.

why then should we expect that the solutions ought to be simple?

 

complex problems, complex scenarios, complex decision-points require due diligence, rigor, structure.  to look for shortcuts for the sake of "simplicity" is simply laziness. sure, communicate the solution the simplest way possible - BUT never sacrifice the process that goes on underneath the search for that solution.

 

===============================

 

thanks to michael.heiss at Flickr.com for the photo above.

Random advice for the day

I received an unusual piece of advice today from the most unexpected place: on a vumper sticker of a car that was ever-so-slowly ahead of me on the way home.

It said:

***Never complain. Never explain.***

Now how apt is that for me?

I actually have a similar set of rules that I follow - or at least I try to follow:

1. Never give unsolicited advice.

2. Never defend an advice you've bern sought to give at no cost.

3. If you must give unsolicited advice, defend it a bit. After that, let it go.

4. A boss' advice is almost always right - specially if it comes from someone you truly respect.

5. If the boss isn't "right", then go ahead and do your own thing - but there are consequences. And if things dont ho yout way, chances are the boss' voice will be the least of your concerns.

6. Never explain why you took on a job - and never explain why you choose to leave the same.

7. Numbers are great tools to explain - but nothing beats structure.

8. You can teach numbers - building structures take time and a lot of mishaps.

9. Sometimes, people who ask for advice are not really asking for advice - just validation. So either you listen and shut up, or argue to the highest heavens. In which case, you end up with misspent time.

10. Sometimes, people just want things to get done. Their way. And arguing for another way is pointless. They just want bread - don't give them a cake, a party, and a glass of champagne.

a team is...

I have been told many times that the success of a team lies in its people.  And that a team is only as good as its weakest member.  A chink in the armour.  A weakness that can potentially be compromised.  A small hole that can potentially be a gaping gap that enemies can exploit.

I think these are wrong.

[ A team is as good as the dynamics that there are inside the team. ]

It is not the weakness nor the strength of one or a few that make a team good.  Or bad.  It is the interplay of the personalities, the strengths and the weaknesses, the formal and the informal communication lines, the overt and covert competitiveness of each individual in the team - all these are what make a team good.  Or bad.

If the dynamics are in equilibrium (to borrow a word from game theory), then the team will function well.  It is a well-oiled machine - and perhaps, even engineered with double-redundancies that could make it function in spite of the "weakest links" and selected dynamic dysfunctions.

If the dynamics are suddenly forced into disequilibrium, then the team's functioning could start to wobble.  Either the team finds a new equilibrium on which to gather its strength - or it continues to fight the new "demand" for a new equilibrium.

Both of which puts the dynamics at risk.

And the entire team's functioning at risk.

The beauty of a team is that it acknowledges its imperfections - and yet continues to strive towards its goals and its vision.  It acknowledges that it has weak and strong members, strong and weak personalities, different weltanschaungs and viewpoints - and yet it manages to act as one.

So is a team only as good as its weakest link?

No.

It is as good as how it manages to cope with the disequilibrium its environment forces it to face - and revert to a new, perhaps significantly different, equilibrium. 

And how it then moves forward to get on with its goals with this new equilibrium.

a new chapter...: a personal post

In October 2007, I left Universal McCann - which has since rebranded itself as UMWW - to join Microsoft Southeast Asia. 

After 9 months, I returned to UM because I missed the frenetic, frantic pace of the advertising world - the late nights, the emails that need to be responded to within 24hours, the 'fire-fighting', the business pitches, the ideation and the interesting research projects which made a difference to clients.

I wrote about my departure in October 2007 in this entry.

My departure back then was somehow a bittersweet event: I was leaving a job that I loved, a team that I was impressed with, a network that was truly great and "genius and visionary".  I was leaving a job where I was entrusted a piece of an experimental business unit that proved to be ahead of its time - and was, in spite of its being experimental, delivered significant contributions to the company, financially and reputation-wise.

In my farewell letter to the company then (which a colleague of mine unearthed from his inbox):

Anyway, I would like to thank you for the support that you have given me in the past, for believing in the value that my team and I could create and bring to your teams and to your clients, and simply, for the opportunity of working with you in seeking only the best for our clients and the brands they have entrusted unto us.

Thanks to the in-market teams across APAC, across EMEA, across the Americas for helping me and my team in our most challenging times – I cannot ask for a better network of planners, researchers, and insights-seekers.  Thank you very much.  Your genius will continue to amaze me - and I can only be thankful for the greatness that you are and have.

After another 18 months, I am leaving UM/mediabrands.  Again.

People (including potential employers) will ask "You've been a 'job-hopper' - where is your commitment?"

I say, commitment is not measured in terms of the number of years or months or weeks or days - it is not measured by tenure. 

Commitment is measured by how much one has contributed - or has desired to contribute - to the company.  It is measured by how much one has gone beyond the call of duty to take on things that are new and scary - and emerge a better person for the organization.

Commitment is trudging on to deliver remarkable, great, and inspiring results to clients, to the company, to teams.  Commitment is about looking for ways and means to help the company survive in the short- and mid-term, and secure its place for the future, whether that future included me or not.

Commitment is about protecting my team - my people - as budgets and overheads are cut, whilst at the same time working overtime - pedal to the metal - to create new revenue streams to save as many as we could.

***

I end this chapter of my life a better person - both professionally and personally.

I end this entry with Seth Godin's words -

And yet when we ask you to look people in the eye, be creative, brainstorm, be generous, find a way to satisfy an angry customer, work with a bully, learn a new skill or bring joy to work, suddenly the excuses pile up. Is this a different sort of work? Is raising your hand in class too much to ask of you?

The jobs most of us would like to have are jobs like this. And yet we put up a fight when given the chance to do them well.

Just for the record:

I was never asked.

Anyway...

Photo from Darwin Bell @ Flickr.Com

getting through the door...

One of the things that I learned is that one - as a manager or a leader - can only create opportunities for her followers.  She can only go as far as pointing to the right opportunities - the right doors - the potential next steps - the possibilities.  She cannot take on the responsibility of opening the door and jumping right in.

I for one have been dubbed by my peers from my leadership training in 2005 as the "guy with the superhero complex - who believes that no one should ever be left behind, no matter what".  It took awhile for me to realize that.

Perhaps, in these challenging times, that's what we need: people who can point us the right way, "burn the boats", and get people to move.

And trust that the people will move.

I - for one - will have a hard time doing the last bit.  But I will have to.

I - too - have my own doors to open and potentials to realize.

Thanks to IrishFlyGuy on Flickr.Com for the photo.

When every little thing matters…

These are times when every little thing matters:

• When you remove all the drinks from what used to be an open pantry because you can save 200 dollars a  month, you are sending a signal that your people don’t matter.  So why should they consider you as if you mattered?
  
• When you lock the cabinets for office supplies to save on costs, you are sending a signal that you don’t trust your people.  Why would then your people trust you?
  
• When you question every single hour a person is late, you are sending a signal that your people are factory-workers who need a time-punch card – in spite of them having worked late last night till 11pm for no pay or for tapping into their electricity to finish a presentation to a client.
  
• When you question every single person’s leave application as if they were looking for ways to skive off work, you are sending them a signal that all you need are bodies of people and pairs of hands – but not necessarily their heart and their commitment.  Why should they trust you – when you don’t trust them?
  
• When you give signals of that your staff are nothing BUT mere bodies, mere pairs of hands, mere costs, mere overheads…
  

True.

The job market is bad.

You know that.  Your people know that.

The market is bad.

You know that.  And surprise: Your people know that too. 

Your people?  They are not just lines in your expense column.  They are not just drawers of salaries.

When you look hard enough, there is a gem inside them that you can nurture.

 

I have always believed that the best and the worst of times bring out the best and the worst of people.  And of companies.

These are not the best of times, obviously.

And I am beginning to see this truism rear its ugly head.

And those that believe – truly, f***ing believe – that their people is best way out of this mess, in spite of their inadequacies and their imperfections – will be the ones that will live on to be legends.

Thanks to Darwin Bell from Flickr for the photo

Yes And…

“When you can go to bed at night and sleep – with the knowledge that you have done really well, with the confidence that you can look at yourself in the mirror and say ‘This was a good day – and I made a difference!’, with the staunch belief as you close your eyes and drift to sleep that “Today was a beautiful day because I made it so…” – that’s success.  And that is what makes it all worthwhile!”

 

 

This is a post dedicated to my team in UM Singapore. 
I cannot ask for anything more, my friends.

who's your superhero?

One of Seth Godin's latest entries - What's your superpower? - reminded me of something.  Not so much about my superpower - but of the impact that others' superpowers have had on me.

(Just in case you're wondering: I am Phil - I uncover stories behind numbers and make sense out of data so you can make a better decision.)

Mr. Godin's entry came at a time when I also unearthed from the morass inside my room a bookmark from one of the magazines that I patronize.  It asks "Who is your superhero?"

I guess it's pure coincidence.

But it got me thinking:  Some of the superheroes in my lives have led very quiet lives - but in spite of that - or perhaps, even because of that - they had made an impact in my life.

The first superheroine is my music teacher, Ms. Regina Batarao.  When I was in fifth grade, she encouraged me to take up music and play the organ during masses.  I am not sure now if that was her ploy of actually getting me into church every Sunday and Thursday - but it did work.  I can't say that I am more religious because of her 'tactic' - but I can say my ears are more 'sensitive'.  I learned - through her - the art of the oido: listening to a song over and over again, looking for the chord-combinations (what I call the "musical skeleton"), reconstructing the notes, and then putting those notes on a music paper with the right notation and beats.

I never got to mastering it - I was very impatient with listening to the notes for the left-hand.  But every time I hear a song on the radio, my brain whirs and I get to identify the "musical skeleton" of the song after its first chorus/refrain.  By the end of the song, I can visualize the notes in my head - and I know that if I wanted to, I can most likely reconstruct the right-hand notes for the song.

I am grateful to her for this gift and encouragement.  And for that, she is my superheroine.

The second superheroine in my life is my Religion teacher, Ms. Lily Magadan.  I was a 3rd year high school student when I met her.  She was my guitar teacher.  At the end of each day, she would gather 10 to 12 of us inside the music room or in the empty church, and get us to play the guitar.  The first lesson - "Yellow Bird".  We had to master the strumming.  I never was good, though - and early on, I knew that I was not going to be any good.  I gave up.

But she did teach me something else:  How to question my beliefs - and how to believe in something or someone that reason or science cannot explain.

She taught us - in her religion class - how to read the Bible, critique it, use a concordance, and 'contextualize' it.  She asked us questions about "Why do you think this was written this way?  What are the historical facts behind these?  What would the interpretations be from a historical perspective?  And what is your interpretation?  If you put faith back in, how would you reinterpret it?"

A lot of us were scared of her.  But she taught us how to read, how to contextualize things, how to question - not just religion.

Both of them encouraged me to get into the Ateneo de Manila University - and forget about being in the State University because "you need a Jesuit education - that's where you will grow the most".

They were right.

In my life, my university days have been filled with challenges - I was stretched academically, physically (darn those PE classes and volleyball!), emotionally (raging hormones, hello!), and spiritually (philosophy of religion?).

Both of them are my heroes.

What's their superpowers?

I guess if you'd meet Ms. Magadan right now, this is what she'd say: "Hi, I am Lily.  I inspire people to reach their fullest potentials and reach for the skies, whilst keeping their feet on the ground."

And Ms. Batarao would probably say, "Hi, I am Regie.  I teach people how to listen - really listen - to what is being said, to what is not being said... and be open."

They both passed away several years ago.  And I never had the chance to tell them they were - and still are - my heroes.

I know this entry won't do whatever they have contributed to my life justice.

But their names?  Engraved in my heart.  And in my soul.

In gold.

of failures, creating something, and Rilke...

There are different kinds of failures.

There are failures which are defined by not achieving or realizing the results one has aimed at. 

Then there are failures that result from being too much of a perfectionist - with the bars set so high that success was an impossibility.

Then there are those failures which are from mismanagement and misuse of the processes - too much reliance on the process - or not enough adherence to the process.

Or worse, using the wrong process.

Then there are those that Seth Godin wrote about:  Failures who are failures because nothing was ever started.  He writes: "The only thing worse than starting something and failing... is not starting something."

So is the solution simply doing it?  Taking a leap - and simply start?

Perhaps.

But I think one has to go deeper.

One has to know why one is doing something.  Why one is creating something out of nothing.

It's not so much about overanalyzing and nitpicking and creating scenarios and all that...

It's about knowing why - from one's soul - this is so important.

...

Rainier Maria Rilke once received a letter from a young poet for advice.  I think what Rilke said to the poet is still apt to the act of creating something - and taking a leap - and jumping in.

You ask me. You have asked others before this. You send them to (others for critique and suggestions). You compare them with others', and you are upset when certain editors reject your work.

Now (since you have said you want my advice) I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing. You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now.

No one can advise or help you - no one.

There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your while life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse.

of meetings and of questions...

I don't fancy meetings.

As much as I can, I try to avoid meetings.  My philosophy is - if it can be done through a 1pager memo, with 10.5-12font Arial font-type (or its equivalent in email), then so be it. 

Even if it's a brainstorming meetings: I believe that brainstorming is far more effective if everybody dumps their ideas on one wiki-like page with the same rules of "no deletions/objections", "no mistakes", and "quantity over quality" is done before an actual face-to-face brainstorm is done.

[OK, perhaps, it's true for numbers-orientated brainstorms where some form of pre-brainstorm analysis is necessary.  And some charts need to be at least prepared and interpreted superficially.]

Meetings, I believe, are a great time waster.

And in the same bucket of time-wasters are teleconferences - where everybody waits their turn to speak whilst someone else drones on on the other end of the line.

If it can be done via email, then so be it.

Seth Godin writes that:

Meetings are marketing in real time with real people. 

I agree that meetings indeed are marketing in real-time with real people.  (He cites conferences as an example.  And I agree with that, too.)

But not all meetings are "marketing" meetings.

Some meetings are merely a waste of time.

Work-in-Progress meetings - for example - are a great time-waster.  Can't it be done online?  There are a lot of collaborative software and systems available.  Why not use them?  Sure, building relationships - and marketing - is critical and will demand face-to-face meetings.  But every week work-in-progress meetings, I believe, are simply a waste of time.

If the object of the meeting is to build relationships, then the progress-check meeting isn't the right place.

To build relationships, one has to show up.

And showing up in relationships don't necessarily mean being just physically present - but really, deeply listening - regardless of whether it is in the form of face-to-face meetings and physical conferences, web-based brainstorms and communications, emails and even interactive webcasts.

[To show up means to give one's 100% attention (and something else!) to the person - in whatever form is appropriate - meetings or otherwise.]

You can schedule hourly meetings or weekly meetings or daily meetings - or even conference calls or web meetings or IMs every hour - and not show up.

And not showing up is not marketing.

Thanks to Eschipul from Flickr.Com for the photo above.

Seth Godin also suggests two types of questions:

1. Questions designed to honestly elicit more information.
2. Questions designed to demonstrate how much you know or your position on an issue and to put the answerer on the defensive.

I think that the first one is clear enough.  And I have encountered people who do want to elicit information - because they want to know, because they can use those new things that they would have been told to do something better with their life or their work, because these are things that stoke their curiosity.

The second one I think needs elaboration:

1. Questions designed to state what you believe in - and in all honesty, seek a challenging view with the hope that what you believe in could potentially be improved and be made better by a dissenting view.
   These are questions that has some tinge of "eliciting new information".
   I can name three or four clients who I admire for their sharpness - and their tough questions: They ask questions so they can see more clearly whether their preconceived answers are indeed correct - or could be improved upon - or downright wrong.
2. Questions designed to say "I know more than you do" - and "you better say the same thing as I think - or else...".
   I don't have data on this phenomenon - but most of the people I have met in the past - clients and peers - have this conscious or unconscious intent.
   They get into the meeting room with a predefined set of questions - and answers set in stone.  And if the answerer says a dissenting view, "you're wrong..."
3. Questions designed to introduce a soliloquy.
   These are the questions which border on the rhetorical and the philosophical ("Tell me, what really is a brand?  What really is brand equity?  And what do you mean by engaging the consumers in a very deep manner?  Why should we create brand ambassadors?") - followed by a monologue on the merits of branding, engagement, and brand equity - usually introduced with "When I was in university..." or "According to Malcolm Gladwell..." or "Chris Anderson thinks that..." or "<Insert management/branding guru's name here> believes that...". 
   And everything else that veers away from the topic at hand.

Almost all questions can put the answerer on the defensive - even those that honestly elicit information.  Because there is an element of "what if I don't have the answer?"  We can't outguess one another.  We can't read minds (yet).

But there are questions that put the answerer on the defensive - and yet feel confident and calm that the question is not being asked because of malice nor with the intent of "checking whether you - the answerer - are right or wrong".

In one of my leadership training courses, before we were to ask question to the facilitator or to someone in the group, we had to declare that we are asking a "clarifying question".  If we were to ask a "question that challenges", we were to declare it as such.  If it were a personal viewpoint, then - well - it wasn't a question, but an opinion.  And therefore was not allowed.

[Asking questions is a great avenue to learn, to improve, to widen one's knowledge - but it can also a veiled attempt to assert one's superiority, to flatter, to achieve something else beyond answers.]

Photo from Oberazzi from Flickr.