The inception of the American ad industry

A biography of pioneering Ad Man Albert Lasker reveals the origins of our advertising age.
BY RICHARD PACHTER


 

The Man Who Sold America: The Amazing (but True!) Story of Albert D. Lasker and the Creation of the Advertising Century. Jeffrey Cruikshank and Arthur Schultz. Harvard Business Press. 435 pages.

We take advertising for granted. Even as companies rush to implement the technology the Tom Cruise character experienced in Minority Report that immersed him in personalized ads, continuous commercial messages are a consistent part of our culture. Douglas Rushkoff's brilliant book, Life, Inc. eloquently explored the corporatization of our lives, but once upon a time, advertising itself was a minor part of things, and were mostly announcements rather than persuasive and pervasive pleas.

I was fascinated by this sprawling, old-fashioned biography of Albert Lasker, an important figure in the world of advertising and politics of whom I was only faintly aware. I recalled him being mentioned by David Ogilvy in his essential books, as someone who made a ton of money but knew little about his role in essentially creating the modern advertising agency and industry.

Among his accomplishments, according to authors Cruishank and Schultz, is the prominence given to content and copywriting; the consumer-centered ad; modern political advertising; branding commodities (particularly produce); selling previously unmentionable female hygiene products and more, including the "creation'' of orange juice.

Lasker, a first-generation American born in 1880 to German-Jewish immigrants — descendents of aristocrats who dared resist proto-fascist Bismarck — grew up in Galveston, Texas. He wanted to be a journalist at first, a disreputable rofession at the time, so his father pulled a favor from a friend and set him up with a position at Lord & Thomas, an advertising agency in Chicago. From there, Lasker bloomed.

Possessing innate sales skills, he quickly secured a few accounts for his new employer, then delved into the craft of advertising: What was it and how did it work?

What Lasker discovered, developed and implemented transformed the industry from order takers into a creative force and catalyst for the ascension of the consumer market, making the United States into a worldwide economic powerhouse. Before long, the unstoppable Lasker wound up owning that agency.

Lord & Thomas and Lasker blazed an impressive track record. They were responsible for branding the California orange crop and creating Sunkist, a more marketable product since oranges now had a name that could be promoted. The agency also promoted the invention of the juice machine and subsequent popularization of orange juice as a daily morning beverage. It also worked similar magic with raisins (Sun-Maid) and took Lucky Strike, an obscure cigarette brand, and made it a top-seller.

An early proponent of radio advertising, the company sponsored the infamously hilarious minstrel comedy, Amos & Andy, and later picked a relatively obscure wisecracking comedian to star in a show sponsored by Pepsodent, a toothpaste client. Thus was Bob Hope's career launched. Lord & Thomas agency also broke ground by first advertising a product whose purpose was deemed unmentionable — Kotex "sanitary napkins.''

Lasker was involved in a number of social and political efforts, including the Leo Frank case involving anti-Semitism in Georgia and Warren G. Harding's run for the presidency in 1920, as well as the relentless (and successful) effort to sabotage crusading novelist Upton Sinclair's 1934 California gubernatorial campaign.

As a window to an earlier era, and a source of insights into the commercial and cultural origins of the advertising industry (and one of its guiding lights), this portrait of Albert Lasker is a worthy contribution.

Originally published in The Miami Herald.

To manage well, focus on employees' core values

Stan Slap's successful management training program strives for authenticity and productivity
BY RICHARD PACHTER


 

Bury My Heart At Conference Room B: The Unbeatable Impact of Truly Committed Managers. Stan Slap. Portfolio 272 pages.

It's a reliable axiom that any book authored by a business consultant is essentially an extended sales brochure for his or her services. The initial 20 pages or so of this offering by management trainer Stan Slap is devoted to touting his program's overall wonderfullness, without establishing the foundation for the energetic self-promotion, which portends yet another instance of this phenomenon.

To be sure, there are copious portions of this boasting bonhomie larded throughout the book as he good-naturedly flogs his programs at every opportunity. The funny thing, though, is that Slap's shots aren't nearly as offensive or out of place as the customary self-aggrandizing scribbling.

This book is an emotional one. Slap's avowed goal is encouraging genuine and visceral connections between managers and employees, tying personal values and goals to the daily routine of working together. In addition to the prolific promotional copy, the text includes individual testimonials from executives who, after a head-slapping moment or two, linked their moral standards to their business ethics and operational methods to great effect. There's also one from Slap himself, detailing his challenging (to say the least) upbringing, which serves as both an inspiration and an invitation to amateur psychologists to connect it to his ongoing passions and methodologies. (I'll pass, thanks.)

So it's not out of place in the least for Slap to tout and reaffirm the awesomeness of what it is he's trying to do. In fact, if he'd failed to jump up on his own soapbox and testify, one would wonder why he wasn't doing just that. It would be weirdly disingenuous and he'd be guilty of failing to follow his own advice.

Slap provides checklists and other exercises for managers to assess their own values and advice for getting employees to do the same. He lays out a playbook for gaining acceptance by the staff and management so they're all not laughed out of the office, or worse. There are scripts and plenty of other tools for dealing with and possibly overcoming objections from above and below the corporate ladder, too.

He's an interesting and entertaining writer, and there are lots of little jokes, puns and asides strewn throughout the text. Slap is quite full of himself but acknowledges that, too, as it's all part of his shtick, although it's pretty clear that he takes it all pretty seriously despite implied claims to the contrary.

The only problem that I have with Slap's worthwhile book is that it's one of those alternate-universe deals. Most if not all of the companies that the rest of us encounter as employees and managers may profess their fealty and commitment to our core values and might declare their goal of engendering a familial environment. We may even have managers that we connect with as human beings, and respect and cultivate us in turn. But Slap recognizes that his is a revolutionary idea that's antithetical to many organizations in practice, if not theory.

In the meantime, he's provided the tools, the rationale and a very entertaining book. Maybe that's enough.

Originally published in The Miami Herald.

Our economic future is not what it used to be

Richard Florida outlines what we must do to be prepared for the next epoch.
BY RICHARD PACHTER

 

The Great Reset: How New Ways of Living and Working Drive Post-Crash Prosperity. Richard Florida. HarperCollins. 225 pages.

It's not just a matter of bank failures, spiraling foreclosures, high unemployment and the rest of this mess. Many of us sense that we're on the cusp of a fundamental shift in our economy and culture. Though most may be in denial, the evidence strongly suggests that the American economy has been propelled and sustained by criminally inflated credit and rampant speculation, and we are on the precipice of a change that will result in a dramatically altered American landscape.

Richard Florida, an American who lives in Toronto, made his name with The Rise of The Creative Class, the book that predicted the primacy of metropolitan areas with diverse populations. Not surprisingly, this new one makes the same case, placing it within the context of our ongoing economic tumult and turmoil.

As an academic, Florida starts, somewhat predictably, with a large dose of history, focusing on previous eras and shifts in the country's socioeconomic fabric. He invokes tons of stats and quotes, another academic habit, which can be a bit off-putting at times though it's more of a mild distraction than an annoyance. But if you're patient, this flood of data forms a nice mosaic of snapshots as he explains how the Industrial Revolution and the Great Depression morphed the largely rural, agrarian economy and population of the United States into an urban manufacturing powerhouse.

As in his earlier book, Florida argues effectively (with stats, naturally) that the country's diversity has been its most powerful, important and, ironically, subtlest strength, despite teabaggers' and nativists' assertions to the contrary. Areas with diverse populations — ethnicities, religions, sexual orientations and other factors — are invariably economically stronger, not to mention more interesting places to live. Further, he asserts that cities, with their dense clusters of apartment houses, clogged roads and massed populations, are actually more environmentally friendly and better at "metabolizing'' their wealth.

Also among Florida's findings is that the U.S. infrastructure is approaching third-world status so if we truly want to be competitive, if not viable, we need to get with it! We're way behind China, Spain and most of what Rummy used to call "Old Europe.''

We must also upgrade our transportation system. Forget about building more inefficient, energy-depleting highways, light rail and high-speed rail is where it's at. In fact, high-speed rail would bring scattered areas together into more powerful clusters and also be useful if, indeed the predictions of $20-a-gallon gas comes true, or the rest of the prognostications of the ``peak oil'' crowd comes to pass.

Not all of Florida's recommendations are easily implemented. Though Starbucks, Trader Joe's and Costco have already done so, Florida's advocacy of the elevation of service workers' pay may unfortunately be a bit Utopian.

Overall, The Great Reset is an interesting, provocative and intelligent book. Florida is a witty and entertaining writer, despite his academic tics and tropes. It's well worth reading as a starting point for the future that's coming our way whether we're ready or not.

There's more to work than money, Dan Pink argues

In his latest book, Dan Pink suggests that money is not enough and motivation comes from within.

BY RICHARD PACHTER


 

Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us. Daniel H. Pink. Riverhead. 256 pages.

I was blown away by Dan Pink's 2005 book, A Whole New Mind. His previous tome, Free Agent Nation, had been very good indeed, but the former speechwriter for Al Gore had made a quantum leap with his incisive look at the ways work can evolve into something much more than just labor. Recognizing the changing nature of global and local economies as positive drivers for the reconfiguration of our roles, the next step was — what? How would we make the transition from worker bees to empowered individuals?

Pink's next book offered some clues, but The Adventures of Johnny Bunko, a decidedly outré young-person's illustrated career guide done in the form of manga, a Japanese comics art form, was terrific and useful, though clearly a one-off. But now the wait is over: Drive, his new book, illuminates the path to unlocking the door to more meaningful work.

In this ideal companion piece to Seth Godin's recent Linchpin, Pink examines the ways we are motivated and finds that the most powerful ones come from within, and are more important to us than the material compensation we're given. His findings seem counterintuitive to those of us who have long accepted Pavlovian doctrine that we work mainly for "rewards'' like salary and other external reinforcements.

Pink presents a rather persuasive argument that we often labor and toil for inner satisfaction and engagement, or, as author Mihály Csíkszentmihályi, says, "flow,'' defined as one's positive, engaged submersion in an activity. If you're "in the zone,'' or describe an athlete as "unconscious'' when he is intently focusing on the game so that he appears to be in a trance-like state, it's the same deal. As he builds his case, Pink recounts the work of a variety of psychologists, academics and authors who've explored the phenomenon. It's not a new discovery, either. In 1949, Harry Harlow, a University of Wisconsin psychology professor, studied eight rhesus monkeys and found that they began playing with and solving the assigned puzzles irrespective of proffered rewards or biological imperatives like sex or food.

Pink writes of Harlow's discovery: "It suggested that our understanding of the gravitational pulls on our behavior was inadequate -- that what we thought were fixed laws had plenty of loopholes. Harlow emphasized the `strength and persistence' of the monkeys' drive to complete the puzzles. Then he noted: 'It would appear that this drive . . . may be as basic and strong as the [other] drives.

Furthermore, there is some reason to believe that [it] can be as efficient in facilitating learning.''

Harlow came to the conclusion that in order "to truly understand the human condition, we had to take account of this third drive,'' Pink writes.

Just as Godin does in Linchpin, Pink offers specific instructions and resources to facilitate this engagement in our own pursuits. It's not foolproof, nor is it risk-free, and many of us will reflexively reject the notion that working for a living (a/k/a salary and other monetary benefits) is not the most important force compelling us to work at our jobs, professions and careers. But harnessing the power of intrinsic motivation rather than extrinsic remuneration can be thoroughly satisfying and infinitely more rewarding.

Originally published in The Miami Herald

Joplin's Spirit Eludes Detailed Narrative

 

SCARS OF SWEET PARADISE: The Life and Times of Janis Joplin. Alice Echols. Metropolitan Books. 432 pages.

By RICHARD PACHTER


The only Janis Joplin songs on the radio these days are Me and Bobby McGee, and maybe Piece Of My Heart. But her image — larger than life — endures. Alice Echols' new biography of Joplin thoroughly examines her life and image, but the result is wholly unsatisfying.

Born in 1943 and raised in claustrophobic Port Arthur, Texas, Joplin grew into an "ugly duckling" teen. A vivacious, outgoing child ostracized by her classmates, who cruelly voted her "Ugliest Man On Campus," the preternaturally bright young woman became a social outcast. Purposely cultivating an unsavory reputation, she pushed the limits of propriety and parental authority by hanging with the town's lowlifes and beatniks until she escaped to college.

A self-professed folkie who gravitated to the music of Odetta and Leadbelly, Joplin barely attended classes, devoting all of her time to nearly nonstop partying and sexual explorations. She began singing at clubs and coffeehouses and nurtured her growing talent, which was sometimes fueled by copious amounts of legal and illegal substances

She dropped in and out of school, and attempted to live the conventional lifestyle of her parents a final time before abandoning any pretense of conformity. She explored Greenwich Village, but eventually settled in San Francisco just in time for the emergence of the hippies of Haight Ashbury.

In San Francisco, Joplin found a community that welcomed her as a kindred spirit. The burgeoning music scene was a hotbed of experimentation, socially, sexually and sometimes even musically. Bands like the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Country Joe and the Fish, and the Charlatans recognized Joplin's talent and outrageous character. She hung out -- and coupled -- with many of those involved. Country Joe McDonald had a relatively long-term relationship with her, and memorialized the singer in his song Janis, on his 1967 album Feel Like I'm Fixin' To Die.

The Bay Area's "anything goes" attitude gave Joplin license to party even more. When she joined Big Brother and The Holding Company, a ragged hippie rock band, Joplin's astounding voice became its immediate focal point. Hailed as the Caucasian reincarnation of Bessie Smith and other black blues singers, Joplin and the band inked a typically exploitative contract with a smallish record label, quickly producing a low-fi album that was ignored by radio.

At the first (and only) Monterey International Pop Festival in 1967, a now-legendary appearance by the group and its fiery vocalist attracted rabid attention from the music business. Bob Dylan's manager quickly displaced Big Brother's home-grown handler, and the rest of the band faded into the background, forever relegated to the role of Janis Joplin's first backup band. Columbia Records bought out their recording contract, and Big Brother made its real debut album under the tutelage of producer John Simon and engineer Elliot Mazer.

Though the album, dubbed Cheap Thrills, seemed like a live recording, all but one track — Ball and Chain — were cut in the studio. Simon and Mazer figured that the band's ragged playing would be more palatable if presented in a concert context, so they added fake audience tape-loops and canned applause, crafting a simulated live album.

Though the LP sold a million copies in its first month of release, Joplin was urged to abandon Big Brother by her manager, her record company and others. Subsequent musical accompaniment inarguably served her prodigious talents better. Big Brother recorded one album following her departure, before becoming a music history footnote.

Joplin's newfound celebrity and fortune enabled the acceleration of a Sybaritic lifestyle, as she made up for lost time. Her casual pansexual couplings, drug addictions, alcoholism and other passions undercut potential artistic and career growth. Echols lists many of Joplin's lovers, including Jets quarterback Joe Namath and musician Kris Kristofferson, who composed her posthumous hit, Me and Bobby McGee. But Janis felt lonely and unloved, despite the seemingly endless parade of short-term companions.

In October 1970, at the age of 27, she was found dead after an overdose of heroin, forming an immortal triumvirate of prematurely departed rock icons. Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix — Echols says Joplin had brief affairs with both — were dead within months of her.

Her enduring image as a red-hot mama and rock archetype inspired Bette Midler's film The Rose, which was originally touted as a Joplin biopic. Another Joplinesque movie is said to be under consideration, this one supposedly starring Melissa Etheridge, who says she draws inspiration from the late singer's bold life. Other women artists similarly express solidarity with Joplin's sexuality and legacy .

Echols' book is a sympathetic but nearly clinical exploration of Joplin's life. With ample research, including scores of interviews with friends, lovers and associates, it's clear that much earnest work went into this project, but the result is a scholarly tome, contrasting wildly with the subject's flamboyant life and work. The ferocious power of Janis Joplin hinted at here may be impossible to authentically convey in any non-aural medium.

Originally published March 14, 1999 in the Ft. Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel

Making the most of every client interaction

John Jantsch offers tips on how to connect with customers so they refer your services to others.
 

BY RICHARD PACHTER


 

The Referral Engine: Teaching Your Business To market Itself. John Jantsch. Portfolio. 233 pages.

I skipped his last book, a bestseller called Duct Tape Marketing, for reasons that are now unclear; perhaps out of loyalty to Garrison Keillor and A Prairie Home Companion. Regardless, I may have to go back and give it a gander, as John Jantsch's latest is a real gem. Under the guise of developing a system for generating business referrals, the Kansas City, Mo.,-based author also provides coaching on just about every aspect of entrepreneurial enterprise — but more about that in a bit.

First of all, Jantsch identifies humans' inherent need to refer and recommend. He writes: "We refer to connect with other people. Being recognized as a source of good information, including referrals, is a great way to connect with others. Think about how eagerly you responded the last time someone asked you for directions, offering up your favorite shortcut and tips for avoiding traffic. We all do it. Making referrals is a deeply satisfying way to connect with others — asking for referrals is just the other side of the same phenomenon. I think the growth of many popular social networks can be traced to the fact that people love to connect and form communities around shared ideas."

In order to have customers refer you to others, you must ensure that you delight them and surpass their expectations. Guys like Kawasaki and Godin have been pounding on that drum forever, but Jantsch updates the pitch quite nicely by adding his own perspective and experiences. Then he invokes using Facebook and Twitter, among other things — which should be a no-brainer these days, although they're surprisingly absent from many businesses. He also covers stuff like product development and innovation, as well as market differentiation — all vital elements in today's commoditized marketplace.

His coaching is pretty compelling, too, as he implores would-be tycoons to pursue activities that have meaning to them and can provide something of value in a unique and personal way to their customers whenever possible. This too may seem obvious, but when considering the things that motivate others to recommend and refer, the idea of connecting with meaning and relevance is quite important.

In addition to the inspirational stuff, Jantsch offers some really good nuts-and-bolts suggestions for getting closer to customers and eliciting their kudos. The suggestions apply to a variety of businesses, so whether you proffer products, services — or any combination thereof — there's an abundance of ideas for making the most of each client interaction.

As with most books that demand a lot from businesses and stakeholders, the question lingers whether they are willing and able to commit to follow the ideas and actions outlined to attain the goal of self-generating customer referrals. The short answer, at least to me, is "probably not," and that's unfortunate.

But the good news is that Jantsch offers enough ideas and inspiration so that even if one picks just a few things, that might be enough to make a difference — or at least to get started.

Originally published in The Miami Herald

Innovation is the cornerstone of brand growth

Coral Springs consultant Robert Brands shows how to systematize creativity.

BY RICHARD PACHTER

 

Robert's Rules of Innovation: A 10-Step Program for Corporate Survival. Robert F. Brands. Wiley. 212 pages.

It seems fairly obvious that innovation and the development of new products and services should be priorities. Most companies at least pay lip service to the idea but in the real world, many firms, unconsciously or not, dissuade this form of creativity in favor of the tasks at hand. Even such organizations as 3M, fabled home of tape of all kinds, have been known to be less receptive — at first — to innovations like those that led to the creation of Post-It notes, which ultimately became a multi-billion dollar business. Sadly, that seems to be the rule and not the exception.

Coral Springs-based consultant Robert Brands' book has a corny title, playing off his name, of course, but beyond the silliness, there's a short, smart, sharp primer for organizations of all sizes and shapes seeking to leverage innovation for growth, profits and, ultimately, survival.

Brands is a consultant now, but possesses a strong résumé from time spent at a variety of corporate entities, focusing on product development. His most recent claim to fame is the development of the method and mechanism that turns hand soap into an airy foam, which he says has revolutionized the industry — most likely by adding a new angle to the soap dispenser that helped vendors replace existing equipment with new ones. (Don't know about you, but they don't produce a better lather or get my paws any cleaner, though your mileage may vary.)

Regardless, Brands makes an excellent case for innovation — revenue generation. As he sees it, it isn't an option but an absolute necessity.

He writes: "Remember, innovation is not a luxury, even for today's most successful companies. Sustaining success means ongoing renewal of your intellectual property (IP) portfolio. After all, technologies become dated; end-user fashions change; and new processes, materials, and capabilities emerge. Like breakers at the seashore, the life cycle of a technology begins, crests, and falls off as, all the while, new technologies form and carry momentum of their own — an ongoing cycle of innovation energy, if you will.''

In addition to walking through each step of the innovation process (liberally seasoned with his own observations and self-deprecating asides), Brands includes useful and surprisingly detailed discussions of related topics like ideation, creativity, management, intellectual property issues and more. And it's not all out of his own experiences, either, with plenty of citations sprinkled throughout from experts in the field. In addition to anecdotes and observations from a handful of fellow innovation executives, Brands invokes some of the more formalized academic thinking on the subject, most notably the Star-Gate process, which systematizes ideation and development into something that's replicable and transferable. Brands also provides lots of checklists, assessments, some charts, bullet points and more, including a transcript of a roundtable discussion with fellow innovation pros.

Though the book itself is a combination of old and new, and Brands' light but comprehensive approach may not itself be astonishingly innovative, it could be a useful catalyst for product development in your own moribund organization