Meetings

Lunch is NOT for Wimps

Posted on by edreidyork


We all know the quotation. It’s from Wall Street. Gordon Gekko is on the phone: Bud Fox stands nervously waiting to meet him. “Lunch?” Gekko is saying. “Aw, you gotta be kidding me. Lunch is for wimps.”

Later in the same film Gekko says, ‘The most valuable commodity I know of … is information.’ Not in my business. The most valuable commodity I know of is other people. To paraphrase Tony Blair my top priority in building my business was, is and always will be, other people, other people, other people.

And that’s why lunch is important.

When I left university in 1995 and realised I now had to work for a living the traditional business lunch was still very much on the agenda – not quite on the scale of The Wolf of Wall Street – but liquid certainly played its part. Nearly twenty years on I am now utterly baffled as to how anyone can drink two pints of beer and then do any remotely useful work in the afternoon.

Those twenty years have seen the increasing – and seemingly unstoppable – movement towards eating at your desk. As innumerable surveys confirm, the lunch hour is now a lunch half-hour, if you’re lucky. What we all do is sit at our desks, eat a healthy mixed leaf salad and read something useful, informative and life-enhancing on the internet.

In theory.

What we all actually do is eat the same damn sandwich we ate yesterday, wonder how there can be a gazillion new pages of web copy since the last time we opened Google and every single one of them boring – and think, ‘I’ve really got to stop this and get some exercise.’

So in the interests of your health, your sanity and the success of your business, may I now paraphrase Gordon Gekko as well as Tony Blair?

‘Lunch? Great idea. Let me check my diary – and I’ve got some really interesting things to talk to you about…’

I have lunch with friends, clients or potential clients maybe two or three times a week. I see it as an integral part of my working week. It breaks up the day and makes me more – not less – productive in the afternoon. And if I don’t come away from the lunch with one new idea or piece of information I’m surprised and disappointed.

Having lunch builds and strengthens my relationships with the raw material of my business – other people. But it only does that because I make having lunch work for me. I was surprised when I wrote these down, but I seem to have ‘rules’ for a successful lunchtime meeting:

  1. I walk there. Wherever I’m having lunch, I try and leave my car somewhere else. If sitting is the new smoking, then I want to give myself chance to walk during the day
  2. I have an ‘agenda’ – but only in inverted commas. I’m not going to have lunch with you and work my way steadily down a sheet of A4 – but I have spent five minutes thinking about the subjects I’d like to cover and what we can both gain from our meeting
  3. Lunch is great for getting people to think differently. If I meet someone across their desk I know they’re going to think about a problem or an opportunity in the same way they’ve always thought about it. If I take them to lunch – and make it special – then I’m almost guaranteed that they’ll be open to new ideas and a fresh way of looking at things
  4. I want to finish lunch with some progress – we’ve agreed to meet again, we’ve decided how we’re going to move forward, you’ve (incredibly wisely) agreed to join The Alternative Board.
  5. Finally, the meeting has to finish at a defined time. Yes, having lunch with you is enjoyable, but it’s part of the working day for both of us – and because it’s part of the working day the meeting needs to finish at an agreed time.

So lunch really works for me: it’s another key part of developing my relationships with existing and potential Board members. Next week I’ve a couple of meetings with Board members at the David Lloyd club in York – I recommend it to you: although maybe not the Quinoa Salad, which was a veggie step too far for me…

Dressed for Success

Posted on by edreidyork


Just before Christmas, the Swiss bank UBS issued its employees with a 44 page dress code, aimed at re-establishing confidence in the bank and giving an impression of total professionalism. In case you missed it, here are some of the main points:

  • Men must wear dark grey, black or navy suits, and black knee-length socks
  • Designer stubble is strictly out, and if you wear glasses, they must not be ‘fashionable’
  • Half a page in the booklet is given over to a discussion on nostril hair
  • Women are told that skirts should be mid-knee length, black nail polish is ‘unadvisable’ (as is nail art – obviously) and only flesh-coloured underwear should be worn
  • Both sexes are told not to eat garlic, and to avoid ‘onion-based’ dishes
  • And as you’d expect from a Swiss bank, a wristwatch also helps to give an impression of ‘punctuality and precision.’ (No checking the time on your mobile.)

 

So that’s that, then. Mark Twain was right. ‘Clothes maketh the man.’ If you’re not at the next TAB meeting in a navy suit, white shirt, red tie and black knee length socks I’ll know you’re not serious.

But can that dress code really be right? Even for a Swiss bank? Google, Apple, Microsoft…all their staff dress casually and they haven’t done too badly. In fact, in an age where an eighteen year old who spends all day in his pyjamas can write the best selling iPhone app, does what you wear really matter any more?

Next time I go to see my solicitor, should I worry if he’s wearing ripped jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt?

Here’s my two penn’orth…

I think what you wear is becoming less important. In the final analysis – thank God – it’s what comes out of your mouth that matters. We’ve all been in meetings where Mr Navy suit-white shirt-red tie-black shoes (and quite possibly wearing his wife’s flesh coloured underwear) has stood up…and talked complete tosh.

But sometimes, what you wear gives you the chance to open your mouth. If I’d gone to my first TAB meeting wearing my jeans I wouldn’t be writing this blog now. You need to wear what’s appropriate, and you need to wear what your client (or potential client) would expect – and what will make them feel comfortable. That may sound like common sense, but small changes can make a difference. One of my good friends and TAB members is an IFA – and he has a rule regarding his tie. “Anyone over 60, my tie is on. Young couple, first time buyers – I wouldn’t dream of wearing a tie. I want to show that we’re on their side. That I’m not the corporate drone they’d find in the high street.”

One day last week I found myself with three appointments – and three changes of clothes. First appointment was a potential client. Traditional company and – I suspected – a fairly traditional MD. Navy suit, pale blue shirt, stripy tie. The second appointment was a 121 with a TAB member – and the tie stayed in the back of the car.

My third appointment was another potential client – a hi-tech company at York Science Park. I strongly suspected they didn’t even know how to pronounce the word ‘tie.’ But I still thought I’d be overdressed in a suit and (in particular) my smart black shoes. So out came the chinos, casual jacket, casual shoes. And if you saw someone walking into the toilets at the York Ramada carrying what appeared to be his entire wardrobe – yes, it was me. But the hi-tech company will become clients.

One final point to finish – and gentlemen, I need your help here. My wife takes the existence of the tie as definitive proof that women are more intelligent than men. As she says, ‘which sex is it that spends thirty quid on a silk tie then sits in their car and eats an egg mayonnaise sandwich?’ If anyone out there could help me with a convincing counter-argument I’d be eternally grateful. Because in twelve years of marriage, I’ve never found one…

Meet The Board

Posted on by edreidyork


Thursday September 23rd. The first meeting of a new Alternative Board. Five complete strangers in a room. Effectively I’m saying to each one of them, “Here are four people you’ve never met before. Shake hands, make two minutes of meaningless small talk over a cup of weak coffee and then tell them the innermost secrets of your business.”

For me, this is what being a TAB facilitator is all about. This is crossing the white line at 3pm on Saturday afternoon. This is the most worrying moment of my job – and by some stretch, it’s the most exciting as well.

Have these people anything in common? Will they gel? Above all, will there be some magic? Will 1+1+1+1+1 equal a lot more than 5?

Obviously, the group isn’t entirely random. I know all the board members, and in my best impression of Simon Cowell putting a boy band together, I think it’ll work. I’m not going to put two people on a board who might not get on: I’m certainly not to have two competing businesses on the same board. And yes, there’s a self-selecting element as well. If the potential members weren’t prepared to contribute, they wouldn’t be here.

But like every blind date, there’s a risk. Will the new board’s discussions sit safely on the surface, skirting round the issues they really care about? Or will it go deeper? Because if it doesn’t, they’re going to waste the next three hours.  

As the facilitator, the answer is ‘you don’t know.’ In football-commentator-speak, “it’s a big ask.” Please tell these people you’ve just met what really concerns you about your business, tell them where you want the business to go – or tell them (and this takes some courage) that you don’t have a clue where it’s going.

So the meeting kicked off – with a very slick presentation. A couple of members looked dismayed, on the grounds that they hadn’t prepared anything and were going to ad-lib. Not to worry, they were fine. We went through the necessary introductions and overviews, and then we came to the main event: challenges and opportunities. This is the central point of any TAB meeting. What problems or challenges are you currently facing in your business? What opportunities have suddenly opened up?

Board members have to describe these, ask the other members for advice – and then keep quiet. There’s always a time limit – usually it’s about thirty minutes per member – but it’s always shorter at the first meeting. So as we sat round the table last Thursday everyone was faced with summarising their position and getting feedback in ten minutes.

But remember what George Bernard Shaw once said, “I’m sorry this is such a long letter, I didn’t have time to make it shorter.” Sometimes less is more. Only having ten minutes forced the board members to cut right to the heart of their business. They had to make the best use of the time available. And then they had to listen, effectively. (A seriously underrated skill in business.)

Judging by the comments and the e-mails afterwards, the meeting was a success. And hopefully there’ll be some positive results. We’ve three more meetings planned before Christmas. I’m looking forward to someone standing up in December and saying: ‘Before I tell you about this month’s challenge, something good has happened. And it wouldn’t have happened without the help you four have given me.’

Stay tuned. I’ll let you know…

How Microsoft killed the art of public speaking

Posted on by edreidyork


So there they are, hunkered down, deep underground, somewhere just outside Seattle. The Microsoft SPB – Strategic Planning Bunker. Coffee and donuts on the table, they’re thinking the unthinkable. And discussing their enemies.

“It was awful,” one of them says. “This guy talks, the audience listen, they applaud. Afterwards they drink coffee, chat to each other – ”

“Interact, you mean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Then they go back into the same room, another guy talks…”

“And no-one presses F1 for help?”

“No-one so much as thinks about a PC. They even laugh.”

“We have to stop it. Good public speaking and PC’s can’t live in the same world. We need something – something that’ll kill public speaking stone dead.”

Like the monkeys writing Hamlet, the nerds eventually crack the problem. And gradually, insidiously, Agent PowerPoint is doing its job.

I’ve been to a few presentations in the past week. In a couple of cases, interesting people who could have said interesting things – if only they’d had the courage to turn their laptops off.

You know, if you’re planning to spend 45 minutes putting up PowerPoint slides and then reading them out, do us all a favour. Instead of your logo, (because we don’t want reminding who you are), just put the Samaritans number along the bottom of your slides.

What do you get with a PowerPoint presentation? Well, number one, you get five minutes pointless fiddling around while they find the right presentation, get the damn machine in focus and work out what button to press so it doesn’t run backwards. Then there’s a quick preview of slide 17 when they press said button too many times to check it’s working, lots of nervous laughter and then some fool turns round to the audience and says ‘nearly there.’

Eventually, someone starts speaking. And your thought process goes something like this…

Right, read that one, thanks. Next. Oh, he’s still reading it out. How did they get those highlights? Can I do that? Maybe it’s 2007 – what am I using? 2003? Why have they used red and orange? Maybe he’s colour-blind…wonder if he’ll take questions at the end? I’ll ask if he’s colour-blind. Oh, Jesus, he’s making something fly in from the side. Well maybe that was impressive ten years ago. Bet he’s got a pair of flares at home. Hey up – next slide…read it. Still using red and orange. What’s that Italian football team that plays in red and orange…

PowerPoint is not only an ordeal for the audience, it’s also counter-productive for the speaker. But hey, it’s easy. And possibly it impresses your boss.

There are times when I think audiences are too soft on speakers. Yes, I know we’re all terribly polite and well mannered and very British. But isn’t it just a bit bloody rude to bore people senseless for 45 minutes simply because you couldn’t be bothered to do enough preparation or write an interesting speech?

Maybe speakers who use PowerPoint should be stigmatised. Maybe we could make them stand outside between presentations. Smokers at one side of the main entrance, PowerPoint addicts at the other.

Anyway, I’m off. I’ve two new boards having their first meetings this week. I need to prepare a brief intro, outline the agenda, give a dozen people an overview of the long term vision. Where’s my laptop? I could use…

Or maybe I could jot down about twenty words on a sheet of A4 and then look everyone in the eye – and build a relationship with people, not with Toshiba.

Blood pressure alert. Help wanted.

Posted on by edreidyork


I was at a conference last week and somebody said –

No, wait. I have something important to say. I wish to petition the Devil. Beelzebub, Lord of Darkness – I want a favour. I assume certain people have a special place in Hell. Mass murderers. Conmen who swindle old ladies out of their life savings. The man who came up with ‘paperless office.’ May I add one more?

Once upon a time someone designed a chair. Hotels the world over bought hundreds of these chairs and stuck them in their conference rooms. Then people were invited to sit on them. All day. Through desperately bad speeches. With the air conditioning not working.

Satan, when the designer of that chair is delivered to you, just roast him a little longer, will you? Turn the spit a little slower, fan the flames a little higher. Make him suffer. As I suffered. As thousands of conference attendees have suffered thanks to his never-be-comfortable-again-after-20-minutes chair…

Right, where was I? While I was squirming on my chair, someone came out with that legendary piece of business nonsense:

55% of information in a presentation is visual; 38% is vocal and only 7% is the actual words.

We’ve all heard it, we’ve all heard people who are paid large amounts of money repeat it. Let us be honest, it is complete and utter rubbish. Yet now it seems to have entered the business world as a “truth universally acknowledged” – if I may take Jane Austen wildly out of context. And it’s a truth even more universally acknowledged when you’ve been squirming in the world’s most uncomfortable chair for four hours.

But it simply cannot be true. Anyone who thinks it through for half a second knows it isn’t true. If you want proof, go to Google and type in Mehrabian Myth. The trouble is, some time in the next six months you’ll be in a meeting and a speaker will say, “Studies prove that 55% of the…” Have the courage to stand up and say something.

Let’s hope he doesn’t mention the coalface. Because then you’ll be on your feet again. “I’ve been talking to the guys at the coalface.” No, mate. You’ve been chatting to the useless lumps in the IT department. Probably about football. What else? “We’re going to pick the low-hanging fruit.” Roughly translated as, “We can’t be bothered to do any real work.”

Am I the only one who thinks I might shortly have to reach for the blood pressure tablets? Feel free to let off steam. Let’s build up a list of management twaddle that should never be heard again. Send them to me. I will faithfully record them. And should I ever use them – any of them – in one of my Alternative Board meetings, then I’ll simply invite everyone to the bar, hand over my credit card and take my punishment like a man. Someone who’s not afraid to walk the walk. Oops…

Ed Recommends a Book. Blog no. 3 – and a statement of intent.

Posted on by edreidyork


This blog is going to be published every Friday lunchtime. Some weeks it’ll entertain, some weeks it’ll educate: some blogs will inform – and some will just be there to start an argument. So please; bookmark the blog, add it to your favourites, Diggit, Reddit, Stumble Upon it and all the other things you can do. And comment on it – the blog is a two-way street.

Enough, I’m going to recommend a book. It’s called Rework and you’ll never have heard of the authors. Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson. Who? They run a company called 37Signals (www.37signals.com) which offers web based applications to help you run your business. Two or three people I know use their CRM application, Highrise. Anyway, this isn’t an ad for their products. But it might be an ad for their book. (Amazon – £5.99).

Rework is short. And it’s readable. Like you, I’ve got a welter of business books in my office. By my bed. A couple in the car. What proportion have I abandoned at page 40 because they’re simply unreadable? At least a third, probably more.

Enough waffle. On to the book. I don’t agree with it all – but it’s different. And with business changing at an ever increasing pace, different is good. Anyone ever been in a meeting? Thought so. Here’s what Jason and David have to say about them:

• Meetings are Toxic
• They’re usually about words and abstract concepts, not real things
• They require thorough preparation that most people don’t have time for
• They often include one moron who inevitably gets his turn to waste everyone’s time
• And they procreate. One meeting leads to another…

You have ten people in a one hour meeting. So in productivity terms, a ten hour meeting. Add in preparation time and it’s probably more like fifteen.

A 15 hour meeting… I have to hold my hand up and say that I’ve never seen it like that. But hang on. The Alternative Board is about meetings. And a successful and positive meeting can take three hours – with eight people. A 24 hour meeting! Blimey, almost enough time to pull the country out of recession.

But there’s a difference. TAB meetings are not toxic: they’re about members finding real solutions to real problems. They do not contain morons – at least mine didn’t last time I checked…

And you know what? Sometimes the meetings are beautiful. Sometimes they’re going along – positive, finding solutions – and then someone says something and whoosh…the meeting takes off. The whole becomes more than the sum of the parts. The board members leave enthused, energised – and reassured that in the lonely world of running a business, they’re not alone. Feeling – to borrow what’s fast become a cliché – that, ‘Yes, they can.’