Have you ever been involved in the development of a strategic plan and found yourself embroiled in seemingly endless debates about the great corporate talisman of “mission and purpose”?  Did you think that your peers (and your boss) were taking this debate seriously?  Of was it just a “tick the box” exercise, designed to placate the strategic “paint by numbers” framework rolled out by the firm of management consultants you had hired to help you?

In my experience, even if the initial level of enthusiasm for the debate is high and even if you leave the room feeling that you’ve landed on the phrase to inspire, motivate and move the troops – when it comes to operational alignment and delivery, the “purpose” devolves into exactly what you set out to avoid in the first place:  a bunch of nebulous rhetoric.

I realise that I might sound cynical here, but the point I am trying to make is that if you are going to go to the effort of agreeing a “purpose” – one which binds and aligns your entire organisation – then it must be a beacon to guide decision-making at every level (but in particular, the executive leadership level); not something that is put in the top drawer and forgotten about until the next restructure.

I have spent the majority of my career at the customer interface – be it sales, service, marketing and/or product management.  For any organisation or business, it is at this interface where the authenticity of the purpose is really tested and where its credibility will live or die.   And frequently, it dies.

If you are sceptical about this comment, let me ask you a question: how many of your customers think that the reason you (or your front-line staff member) is sitting across the table from them, is the same as the stated purpose of your organisation?  For most of us, the answer to this question will be: “not many” – so why is that?

As a starting point, it’s important to conduct a sanity check on the “purpose”.  A wise man once advised me that if you are struggling to describe the “purpose” of your organisation, ask yourself two questions: if you closed down your doors tomorrow, who would suffer and why?  Is this answer to this question, the same as your stated organisational purpose?  If they are not the same, you have some work to do – both internally and externally – the point being that it is your customers who will define your “purpose”, by the value they derive from your service.

Assuming your “purpose” does align to delivering the value that your customers want from you, I would argue that for most of us, not enough focus is placed on using the “purpose” as the touch-stone for the decision-making.  When faced with a clash of priorities and the need to make a call between the two, how many organisations ask themselves: “which of these choices will help us live our purpose more effectively?”

And how hard does the organisation work to ensure that the “purpose” is distilled down through every level?  Is there a clear line of sight from the customer interface right the way through the organisation’s value chain; and does everyone within that value chain recognise the role they play in making that purpose come to life – in the eyes of the customer?  How many staff members, when travelling into work, are thinking about the company “purpose” and what they can do to make it real that day?

To be able to answer these questions positively is a huge challenge; but isn’t that the point?  If your customers can’t understand your “purpose”, then it really is just a bunch of words.

I find organising my thoughts into a sensible and coherent order is like trying to put an octopus in a string bag. Just when you think you’ve nailed it, schlooop, one tentacle slips out the gap and waves around, taunting you. Yeats said it rather more elegantly in The Wild Swans at Coole:

Hands, do what you’re bid;
Bring the balloon of the mind
That bellies and drags in the wind
Into its narrow shed.

Even Yeats found thinking hard and he was brainier than most. Why bother then? Yes, you guessed it: I’ve been thinking. I’ve come up with four reasons:

First reason: scientists say keeping our brains active staves off dementia, and I’m all in favour of growing old without joining Club Veg.

Second reason (scientists, again): using our brains makes us brainier. We grow more neuro-pathways and suchlike. A few sessions of Sudoku may not turn us into Stephen Hawking but isn’t it nice to know we’re all capable of becoming smarter?

Third reason: you might come up with some good ideas. All the world’s good ideas started in someone’s head. Why not yours?

Fourth reason: thinking gives us more power. Because when we think, we question: Why does this happen? Is this a good thing? Is there a better way? If we’re thinking and questioning all the time, then we need never accept less than we’d like to. That applies to what we do personally, and to what is done to us (or on our behalf) by political organisations, businesses, marketers, lobbyists, our neighbours, friends and family.

I’m pretty sure that some of you are now thinking: but I have enough to do just going to work, looking after the kids, and trying to get to the gym. You’re thinking: after all that, I’d rather just switch off and blob out.

Same here. Sometimes, I just want to surf Failblog, watch Doctor Who, read Agatha Christie, or have a glass of wine. Sometimes all four at once.

But I also feel that if something is worth doing, you can make time and give it a go.

At least think about it.

What kind of special person fails to spot that customers have always had needs, and have always quite liked having them met? Did they think the world was full of nothing but wimps, masochists and ascetic monks? Why only now get around to asking customers what they want? Whose pockets did they think the revenue was coming out of? The Money Fairy’s? Did they not feel they owed customers anything in return for all that booty?

Exhibit B: the CEO who, when questioned about why they’d put prices up when they’d just posted a record profit, suggested the media ignore the queues of disgruntled customers and look instead to the smirking shareholders. I won’t even bother to point out all the research that demonstrates that companies who put their customers first deliver better returns over time for their shareholders. (Honestly, there is so much evidence about this that it’s stored in a warehouse just like the one at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Truly.)

Exhibit C: companies who think changing a logo will make people like them better. I can count recent new logos for an electronics chain, three banks, a power company and a telecommunications company. Has a new logo fundamentally changed how those places operate? What they offer you and how they treat you?

If not why not?

And why put up with it?

Imagine the market to be exactly that, like Smithfield, or the Souk. All the sellers are yelling. ‘Luverly coconuts!’, ‘My cousin Adbul has the finest carpets!’ That’s advertising; a way to get customers’ attention. Modern methods of advertising simply allow you to yell at more people in more places, more often.

Conclusion: in our free market, anyone has the right to sell stuff and to advertise the stuff they sell in the hopes of selling more. Advertising, in itself, is not a bad thing.

So now we’re left with, in the words of the Specials when for some reason they teamed up with Bananarama: ‘It ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it’.

I don’t like the yelling (you know who you are, Harvey Norman). I don’t like the intrusiveness (do NOT phone me at 7pm on a Sunday to sell me air-conditioning! I am watching Dr Who!).

Most of all, I don’t like the lies. I’ve identified four types of lies in advertising.

One: Blatant lies. Money-back guarantee. Cancel at any time. Your call is important to us.

Two: Glamour lies. Pro basketballers wear these shoes; supermodels wear this makeup; hot women ogle men driving this hatchback. No, they don’t. And you will not become one whit more intelligent, attractive or athletic you if you purchase these items. All you will become is some degree more poor.

Three: Weasel lies. 97% less fat! (But still stuffed to the gills with sugar!) Preferred by 3 out of 4 women! (What were their choices, exactly?) Recommended by leading dermatologists! (Once we paid them a fee!)

Four: Concealments. (Not true lies, but stuff sellers would prefer us not to notice.) Credit card interest rates. Instant finance interest rates. Terms and conditions. Anything attached to an asterisk.

Conclusion: Advertising, whatever method you choose, old or new, is still the way to sell your stuff to more people. But please, please, no yelling, no intrusions, and at least 97% fewer lies.

Nicolson drew up a list of ‘qualities’ that he wanted the new scheme to possess:

Authenticity
Richness
Rootedness
Connectedness
Vitality
Delight

I ask myself: aren’t they the qualities we would like to create in every endeavour?
Because if we are not aiming to be those then we must be the opposite: bogus, stingy, temporary, isolated, dull and un-engaging.

Sissinghurst, by Adam Nicolson. Published by HarperCollinsPublishers, 2008.

William James said that there were two paths for any thinker: Seek truth, or avoid error.It’s a brilliant way to assess what you do.

Avoiding error isn’t just about playing it safe. It’s about believing that there is a formula for success – and that if you follow its rules, no matter what the circumstances or context, you won’t fail. It’s about fitting in and looking cool – teens avoid error. It’s about covering your backside with ‘out’ clauses rather than ponying up and having real skin in the game. The best thing that can be said about avoiding error is that it implies conscientiousness. But quality control is not the same as quality.

Seeking truth, on the other hand, takes nerve. It means not challenging the accepted wisdom if you have doubts (but also being brave enough to accept it when it really is wisdom – you’re not always the smartest person in the room). It means exploring the whole context you’re operating within, and putting yourself in others’ shoes so you fully understand the effect of what you’re proposing. It means trying something new if that’s what’s required, but not just for the sake of being noticed. It means caring enough about the result to share responsibility if it fails as well as when it succeeds.

Seeking truth? Or avoiding error? What are you doing right now?

The team at R+R.