Facing Up to Mistakes

Have you ever made a mistake at work? Perhaps you are an accountant and you put an extra zero at the end of a number or placed a decimal point one column to the right. Or maybe you are an attorney and failed to file a motion in a timely manner. Or you are a shipping clerk who sent a package to London, England, instead of London, Ontario (that last one is a homage to All in the Family and the reason Archie Bunker did not get a Christmas bonus one year and thus could not buy Edith the vacuum cleaner she desired). 

The point is, people make mistakes, and so do computers if they are programmed incorrectly by humans, of course. No matter how many levels of review an organization has, human error cannot be totally eliminated. 

Try talking out loud for several straight hours a day without fumbling your words. Naturally, you will mispronounce some words. But when I refer to fumbling I mean something far more sinister, far more detrimental, to your societal position and ambition. 

In the age of instant mass communication any gaffe, any untoward remark, may be blown up out of proportion to your intent. The tragedy, the threat to our civil and political comity, and potentially our democracy, is that it usually is. 

Did Hillary’s “basket of deplorables” comment cost her the election? Didn’t help. Howard Dean’s outburst of enthusiasm after the Iowa caucus in 2004 surely blew up his presidential hopes. In 2006, George Allen got caught on a cell phone camera calling one of his opponent’s campaign trackers a “macaca” (monkey). It submarined his re-election bid as a U.S. senator from Virginia. 

Which brings us to a recent brouhaha over an erroneous news report. I classify it as a “brouhaha” not to discount the culpability of the media, in this case, NPR, but rather because when journalists make mistakes they are held to a higher standard than politicians who regularly and deliberatively lie. 

NPR screwed up in a report linking Trump ex-attorney Michael Cohen’s plea deal confession to testimony Donald Trump Jr. provided to the Senate in 2017. NPR alleged Trump lied to the Senate about the family’s business plans in Russia. NPR issued a correction shortly thereafter. https://www.foxnews.com/politics/npr-issues-correction-after-falsely-accusing-trump-jr-of-being-in-legal-jeopardy-for-lying-to-senate.amp

But admitting its mistake did not stop right wing journalists and Web sites from excoriating NPR. Indeed, a Google check of “NPR Donald Trump Jr.” finds that the top sites covering this faux pas were Sputnik News, The Daily Wire, The Daily Caller, Breitbart, RT.com, National Review and The Federalist. It is a conservative onslaught when the most objective site I could cite was Fox News.

Only Trump Sr. seems immune from fallout from vocal flatulence. Indeed, his base laps up his lies and libertine lewdness. Of course, foreign governments and independent entities such as the stock market are not necessarily impassive to Trump’s discordant trumpet. Here’s an article from The Washington Post highlighting the chaos from Trump’s erraticism: https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/chaos-breeds-chaos-trumps-erratic-and-false-claims-roil-markets-again/2018/12/04/824506fa-f7ff-11e8-863c-9e2f864d47e7_story.html?utm_term=.0681c19ad319.

The PC police long ago lost the war with Trump. But the PC police remain vigilantly active when it comes to Trump’s detractors. Eric Holder and Hillary Clinton are held to a higher standard. As is The New York Times. 

Back in September The Times published an erroneous report that U.N. ambassador Nikki Haley had spent lavishly on draperies for her official residence in a high rise building near the U.N. The Times apologized for the error and issued a correction stating it was the Obama administration that authorized the purchase. 

In no other profession are mistakes as publicly acknowledged as they are in legitimate journalism. 

I made my fair share of mistakes as a reporter and editor. My most egregious mistake was not one of fact but of judgment. After a particularly negative experience trying to buy an electric snow shovel at a now defunct local home center chain, I avenged my treatment by recounting the details in the editor’s column of the next issue of Chain Store Age. I not only named the chain but also the store manager. I overstepped the bounds of civil criticism. In the next issue I apologized.

My most amusing mistake was printed on the cover of a December 1992 issue profiling retail industry entrepreneurs of the year. Chain Store Age partnered with Ernst & Young as part of the latter’s national all-industry program to recognize corporate leaders.

From the 29 retailers selected as winners that year, we chose to put Randy Acton, president of U.S. Cavalry, on the cover. U.S. Cavalry, now part of Galls LLC, sold military and law enforcement apparel and accessories. 

For the cover shoot Acton dressed in a military camouflage outfit, helmet and all. The headline read, “Soldier of Fortune,” under which we printed, “Randy Acton, president U.S. Calvary.”

Did you catch the mistake? I didn’t, until I received a thank you note from Randy. He gently pointed out his company was U.S. Cavalry, not U.S. Calvary.

Jesus, what a mistake that was!

Partnering for Profit

In my last post I referred to a second type of special report first published by Chain Store Age in 1990, one produced in partnership with an accounting/consulting firm. Here's the background of how I developed that transformational genre:

A short while after NCR signed to become the sponsor of a special report on technology (http://nosocksneededanymore.blogspot.com/2014/01/an-nrf-convention-memory-worth-noting.html), I received a call to meet with the head of Ernst & Young’s retail practice, Stephanie Shern, in her Park Avenue office 10 blocks south of but 30 stories higher than mine. When we met, she said she wanted to discuss partnering on a survey of retail technology trends. 

At the time, each of our organizations conducted similar studies. I knew they were similar, extremely similar, because our tech editor had patterned our study on the E&Y model. The major differences centered on the size of each printed study and our distribution methods. 

Chain Store Age would publish just four pages of data. We employed a classic push distribution strategy. All of our 35,000 readers received those four pages as part of our magazine’s regular 35,000 circulation. 

On the other hand, Ernst & Young depended on a pull system. It waited for existing or perspective clients to ask for a copy of its 32-page report. It printed just 5,000 copies, and often had way too many leftovers sitting around when the next study came out in print. E&Y wanted to partner as a means of upping its profile with retailers.

On the spot I quickly agreed to work with E&Y, but equally as quick thought up a more elaborate and daring partnership. I proposed the following:

E&Y would be responsible for all editorial work in developing the survey, fielding it, analyzing the results and writing the copy. CSA would be responsible for the study’s design, layout, production and distribution. But instead of printing just 5,000 copies for E&Y, I said we would print 55,000 of the 32-page report and push it out as a freestanding section of our October issue. The 55,000 copies would include 35,000 for our normal circulation plus 5,000 for E&Y, 10,000 for distribution at various technology trade shows and 2,000 for a direct mail campaign to retail executives.

That last 2,000 was the linchpin of the whole idea, for the recipients would be chosen not by CSA or E&Y. Rather, they would be selected by a sponsor of the study (that would receive the final 3,000 copies of the production run).

For my plan to work, Ernst & Young would have to agree to do something no other accounting/ consulting company had ever done before. It would have to allow its proprietary work and expertise to appear in print next to an ad of another company.

I guaranteed we would print the 55,000 copies of the study even if we did not secure a sponsor. In return for assuming the risk of production, I said Chain Store Age would keep any and all sponsorship revenue.

As revolutionary as my idea appeared, it came at a propitious time. Accounting/consulting firms were embarking on a new era of marketing, of battling for name and service recognition.

For two or three days Stephanie's colleagues weighed the proposition. On the one hand, E&Y was committed to doing a study with or without CSA. On the other hand, pushing out 55,000 copies of the report would be a 1,000% increase in marketing exposure at no additional cost to E&Y. 

It was too good an offer for the numbers crunchers to pass up.

Within days of agreeing to my proposal, our top salesman, Chris, secured a sponsor, GE Information Services, for $100,000 net. Thus, our October issue would carry two special reports, each priced at $100,000 net, one sponsored by NCR, the other by GE Information Services. 

When the Ernst & Young study of retail technology trends appeared, three things happened. First, other accounting/consulting firms came a’calling. They, too, wanted to partner with us. Second, advertisers who had limited their spending with us suddenly found deep pockets to be associated with these high impact studies and reports. In short order we were partnering with all the major accounting/consulting companies on topics as diverse as loss prevention, logistics, payment systems and the state of the retail industry. It was a truly heady time juggling partners and study concepts.

The third result was an unintended consequence. We could do only one survey study a year for each topic. That meant other publications could seek partnerships with other accounting/consulting firms on the same topics. We were still the gold standard, and charged accordingly, but our competitors benefited from my concept, as well. As they say, a rising tide lifts all ships.

1990 was a watershed year for Chain Store Age, a year in which the topography of retail publishing changed because I listened and reacted quickly and creatively to the needs of the marketplace.

AN NRF Convention Memory Worth Noting

Today is the Tuesday of the annual get-together of the National Retail Federation in New York City, an event I attended for 30 years until I retired four years ago. Twenty-four years ago this morning I pulled a rabbit out of thin air and transformed the way my magazine, Chain Store Age, conducted business. Indeed, my spur-of-the-moment idea became a template for other retail business publications, as well.

Some background: In 1990, we were fortunate if our advertisers spent $30,000 net a year. For that princely sum they would receive four full-page, four-color ads. My idea catapulted select accounts into a $100,000 net program, details of which I will explain later.

The NRF convention is mostly about technology, a subject that causes my eyes to glaze over. Normally, I would shun meetings with technology companies, assigning the chore to a more well-informed staff editor. For an early breakfast meeting with NCR at the New York Hilton, only I was there representing the editorial side. With me were the magazine’s publisher, John, and our top salesman, Chris. 

There we were, sitting in a round booth in the basement level of the Hilton, listening to Marshall Fey of NCR lament that the world’s largest maker of electronic point of sale (POS) systems had a problem: Whenever NCR pitched for business, low-level techies chose it over rivals like IBM or Digital. But when the multi-million contract made its way up the corporate ladder, the CEO invariably would ask, “We’re buying IBM registers, right?” Clearly, NCR had an image problem that haunted most of its sales efforts.

NCR had not advertised with us for years. If we could help resolve its dilemma, maybe we'd get a few ad pages. An idea popped into my head. “If your problem is CEOs don't know who you are,” I said, “the solution goes beyond informing them about your name. You must educate them about technology. Would NCR be interested in sponsoring a special multi-page report titled, ‘Retail Technology: What the Non-MIS Executive Needs to Know’? It would be 20 pages dedicated to educating non-techies about the merging importance of technology to retail operations. It would be objective reporting. It will be chock-full of cutting edge features on the power technology can bring to retailers. Most importantly, to convey authenticity and objectivity, none of the articles would mention NCR. NCR could include regular ads inside the freestanding report, but the report itself would be free of any reference to NCR.”

I sweetened the proposal with seven ads, a direct mail campaign of the report to 2,000 executives, and distribution of the report at several technology shows as part of an overall print run of 50,000 copies (our normal print run was 35,000).

When Marshall asked the price, I said $100,000 net. 

He didn’t blink. He said he'd bring the idea back to headquarters in Dayton, Ohio.

Back in our Park Avenue offices later that day John and Chris were excited, but wanted to know how I arrived at the $100,000 net price tag. I stuck my index finger in my mouth and raised it to feel which way the proverbial wind was blowing. It just sounded right, I said. A bold idea (made up on the spot) demanded bold pricing.

Marshall called a few days later. Could we come to Dayton for a presentation? A few weeks later we trekked out to Dayton, made our pitch with story boards just like you see them do on Mad Men, closed the sale. The NCR-sponsored report appeared in October 1990.

Special Reports became one of the most successful programs ever produced by Chain Store Age or any trade publication. Over the next 18 years we produced hundreds of special reports, some in conjunction with major consulting/accounting firms, another format I innovated on the spot during a meeting with Ernst & Young a few months later (if I’m industrious, perhaps I’ll write about that story next time). Competitors copied both ideas. Competition forced us to lower the price. But the Special Report program remained a mainstay of our market share leadership and profitability for the next two decades.