Ever the IT eye looks outward . . .

I had an interesting conversation with a communicator last night. I was at the speakers' cocktail party at Ragan's Web Content Management Conference, talking to a guy who handles all the online external marketing for a software developer.

'Yeah, I mostly focus on internal communication,' I told him. 'You know, the employee stuff.'

'Oh, I do that, too,' he said. 'I'm responsible for the web site and the intranet.'

When I pressed him as to why he didn't mention the intranet right away, he gave it some thought.

'You're right . . . I guess I consider my primary job to be the web site—you know the thing that brings in customers and cash,' he said. 'The intranet shouldn't be secondary . . . but I guess it is.'

Upon further discussion, I found out that, while the company has an entire usability group and focus-group research team they use to test the external web site . . . they never do any of that kind of research or user testing on the internal site.

'There's no excuse for not doing it internally,' the guy admitted. 'We've just never done it. We've always focused on the internal site.'

I think this is probably a fairly common—though no less unpleasant—situation. The external site brings in the cash, while the internal site . . . what? Gets people forms? Hosts the internal phone book? Shows the stock table?

As communicators, we obviously need to do a better job of selling the intranet's benefits if we ever expect those outward-looking IT people, marketers and executives to pay any attention to it.

My pal Tracy Kellum, an intranet communicator at Ketchum, just sent me this link to a story in The Onion. It's hilarious.

If you don't want to read the whole story (but you should) then the lead alone is one of the funnier Onion leads I've seen in a while. Here it is:

Office-Newsletter Editor Refuses to Back Down

SALINA, KS—Shipping department manager Nathan Harrity refused to apologize Monday for the controversy surrounding the November issue of Shoppe Talk, the Vitamin Shoppe corporate headquarters' internal newsletter.

"People don't like to hear the truth," Harrity said. "I knew the parking-space article would upset a few people, but I'm not giving in. I know there are people who'd like Shoppe Talk to be nice and fluffy. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not a nice-and-fluffy guy. I tell it like it is."

Putting the 'You' in Usability

'Usability' is one of those words or phrases that tend to scare
communicators—like 'audit' and 'focus groups' and 'last call.'

Okay, maybe I'm the only one who dreads that last one . . . but most
communicators I know tend to shy away from the concept of usability. They
think it involves heavy science, one-way mirrors, expensive 'usability labs'
and hours and hours of extra work.

It doesn't. I've sat through usability guru Jakob Nielsen's one-week seminar
on usability for intranets; I've read the important books on the subject;
I've even done some usability testing in the real world. It may be about as
much fun as watching ice melt, but it ain't hard.

And communicators can't afford to ignore it. It's too important. It may be
single biggest reason why people aren't coming to your online publication,
web site or intranet home page.

With that in mind, I've put together, through Ragan Communications, this Teleseminar to introduce the concept to communicators, and give them some tips and tactics that they can use immediately.

Check it out and if you like what you see, contact my friend Diane Tillman at 800.493.4867 x4250.

The blogging community bands together to bash David Murray

Woooeee!! There's a real pissing match going on in the blogosphere!

And the weird part of it is, the two people fighting are both my friends—Shel Holtz and David Murray. Watching two people you like fight each other is weird. It reminds me of my childhood, before my parents got divorced. Only nobody is drunk. I don't think.

Here's the story:

David recently wrote a Ragan Report column criticizing bloggers who he feels spend too much time agonizing over why people don't pay more attention to blogs.

Now, David's columns are often way over the top (which is why I like them), and this one was no exception. He throws around words like 'imbecilic' and 'hysterics.' He attacks blogger Neville Hobson for a 'nearly teary' post about the lack of activity on IABC Chairman David Kistle's blog. He says blogs don't need 'geeks like Hobson' constantly selling their benefits.

And he says that many bloggers 'behave as if blogs are the solution to world hunger.' (A recent google search revealed not one blogger saying blogs have any relationship to world hunger, in case you were wondering). You can read David's entire column here.

This column, of course, prompted noted communication expert and blogger Shel Holtz to respond—on his blog, of course. In order to describe Shel's response, let me tell you a story about a friend of mine.

This friend had a wife who was a bit of a shrew. And every time my friend would come home after a night of drinking, his wife would be waiting up. The screaming would start before my friend even opened the front door.

Well, one night, the wife focused her screaming on how much money my friend was spending in bars. Having had enough, my friend took out his wallet and carefully laid out its contents—money, credit cards, photos, receipts—on the kitchen table.

Then he calmly urinated all over all of it. Having made his statement, he then took off the rest of his clothes and passed out naked in the bathtub.

What does this story have to with the dust-up between Shel and David?

In the story above, Shel would be my friend, and David's column would be the contents of my friend's wallet. Upon reading David's column, Shel drenched David's column with a thoughtful, point-by-point rebuttal. It is probably the longest post Shel has ever written on his blog. You can read it here.

My take on it? First, I guess I admire David's cajones. If I ever disagreed with Shel on a technology-related issue (and to this point I never have), I would keep it to myself. I wouldn't debate Roger D'Aprix on strategic communication, Les Potter on communication planning, Shel Holtz on communication technology, or Wilma Mathews on media relations. You go up against those folks on their turf, and you're going to get your lunch handed to you.

Second, and more importantly, David is wrong about blogs. They are changing how people communicate. Look at this example. In the old days, David would have written his column, and anyone who disagreed with him would have had to write a letter to the editor.

Now, just an hour after he read the column, Holtz had a massive rebuttal up on his web site. So did Hobson, which you can read here. And other bloggers are linking to those posts, and David is out there commenting on the comments. And on and on.

And now I feel the need to weigh in with my blog. And someone might weigh in on this. And on and on. The column wasn't the end of the communication process. It was the beginning—and readers have every bit as much power as the original publisher of the information.

And that's where David is dead wrong. Blogs may not revolutionize the publishing world, but they will most certainly change the rules.

If we publish employee poetry . . . where do we draw the line?

Over the past 13 years, I've read maybe 75,000 employee publications. And I've seen a lot of weird stories. But I just came across something that may set the entire employee communications profession back 100 years.

I found this particular piece in a utility company's employee newsletter. It's a poem. Written by an employee. About . . . his boots. It's a love sonnet to his work boots. I swear I am not making this up.

Yes, that's right. An employee publication editor published a worker's love poem to his boots. The title of the poem, of course, is 'These boots were made for walking.' Here is how this blue-collar Shakespeare starts out:

'Dear Boots, Thank You
You keep my feet warm in winter
And you keep me safe from electric shock
Your cushioned insoles make me walk faster
And your steel toes laugh at a falling grate block.

I could go on, because there is another stanza . . . but why would I?

My question to this editor (other than: what are you on, and can I have some?) is this: Do you realize the floodgates you are opening up here? Do you realize how many frustrated poets you might have in the workplace?

And now that you've set a precedent, you're going to be awash in bad prose from every corner of the organization! You're going to get stuff from the accounting department . . . something like this, maybe:

An Ode To My Calculator . . .
As my fingers caress your magic buttons
And those glorious digits fill your screen . . .
My heart soars beneath my pocket protector
And my soul is washed so clean

As I play with the General Accounting System
And add up the dollars and coins
Your electronic infallibility is reassuring
And gives me a strange throbbing in my loins.

Or you might get something out of the IT Department. Can you imagine that? Maybe something like:

Wither the computer mouse?
Well hello there, little mousy mouse
Once again I hold you in my fist
Hidey Ho, my little plastic pet
Can you help me create a to-do list?

I've got lots of people to not call back,
And tons of work to not do
So that you and I can play all day
Surfing Internet porn, and sniffing glue

Blog readers . . . what about it? Can you come up with any poems of your own? This could be a nice, fun way to wind down the year!

The above examples will be in my C.R.A.P. (Corporate Rhetoric Awards Program) column, in the January issue of Corporate Writer and Editor. If you've never seen CWE, check it out here. It's a fantastic publication for internal editors, writers, and designers.

Step right up and place your bets. I'm taking wagers on a consulting gig I have this week. Here's the background:

On Tuesday night, I'm flying south to do a day of consulting for a large transportation company.

The day is going to be split into thirds. The first third, I'll be meeting with a bunch of people who are in charge of contributing content from their departments to the communications team. We're going to talk about how important their role is, how to find good stories, how to interview sources, and how to present the information in a way that will be most helpful to the communicators.

The second part of the day will be spent with the senior leaders of the company—about 12 people, including the CEO. Maybe. Usually, in this situations, CEOs say they will come, and then they either not show up at all, or they just sticks their heads in the room to say how important communication is before leaving to do something more important.

Finally, the last segment of the day will be spent with the VP of Communications, talking about where resources should be allocated, which vehicles need to be improved and how, and other high-level stuff.

Here's the bet: Which of these three groups do you think will be most responsible for communication breaking down at the organization? They may all be responsible in their own way . . . but which one will be the most responsible? That's the bet.

Will it be the content providers, who certainly have more important things to worry about than providing the communications team with stories?

Will it be the executives, who when it comes to communication give it a lot of lip service and nothing else?

Or will it be the communications vice president—who may be one of those executives who is a lot more interested in rubbing shoulders and kissing ass with the big dogs than actually pushing those dogs to communicate effectively with employees.

Of course, there's a fourth group: The communicators themselves. But I know they're not to blame, because they have been to my seminars, and they know how rabid I am on this subject, and they wouldn't be bringing me in if they didn't believe in my message.

So you pick. I'm even laying some odds. Here's the betting program:

Content Providers: 3:1
Executives: 2:1
Vice President of Communications: 5:1

Place your bets! I'll report the winning results Thursday morning.

All bets are off . . .

As I mentioned in my previous post, I recently spent a day with a big transportation company, taking a hard look at their employee communication programs and vehicles. A third of the day was spent with the content providers who are responsible for getting the communicators information from their different departments.

Another third of the day was spent with the company's executives—including the CEO. And the final part of the day was spent with the communications team, including the vice president, who reports directly to the CEO.

I asked blog readers to bet on which one of those groups was inhibiting good communication the most—the content providers, the executives, or the VP of communication himself.

Well . . . the answer, I guess, is none of the above. I can't blame the content providers, because they are actually into the process. They may not contribute as much as the communicators would like . . . but for a bunch of volunteers, they do a pretty good job.

And I can't blame the VP, because he was willing to go to bat for communications with the CEO—and was working hard to get the company to adopt a more candid, strategic approach to communications.

And I can't blame the 'executives,' as a group, because they were willing to spend a big chunk of the day talking about communication, and I could tell they recognized its value. In fact, the CEO himself never left. He spent four hours with me. He sat in with the content providers and the executives.

And he listened. He didn't fiddle with his blackberry or leave to make calls or stare out the window. He listened. He even—and you won't believe this—stayed for the writing exercises that I put the content providers through.

So, then, who is to blame for the communication lapses in the company—and, I should mention, there are communication lapses in the company. Two major initiatives that will change the face of the company are going largely uncommunicated. Employees are gasping for information, and not getting any.

Why? After a lot of probing and questioning on my part, I uncovered the truth. It's one man. One guy is a human bottleneck. It's the COO—and he's a Cardinal Richelieu-like figure at the company. He doesn't sit on the actual throne . . . but he wields just as much power as the CEO. And as open as the CEO is to candid, strategic communication, the COO is every bit as much against it.

He fights the CEO at every turn. He doesn't think employees should know anything. And guess what? Those two major initiatives I just mentioned? He owns both of them. So he blocks the information from flowing anywhere.

In fact, for the portion of the day where I was talking with executives, we were supposed to have 25 vice presidents and assistant vice presidents in the room. Only 18 showed up. And guess what? All seven of the missing people reported to the COO. Imagine that.

And here's the kicker. Until two years ago, employee communications used to report up into the COO's office. Then it was moved. And the guy is still pissed about it.

It's an ugly situation . . . and I still don't know what to tell my client. Her boss is willing to go to bat for her, but he doesn't want to get in a pissing match with Cardinal Richelieu. (There's a great Richelieu quote about how he dealt with his enemies: 'If you give me six lines written by the most honest man, I will find something in them to hang him.' You want that guy mad at you?).

And while the CEO believes in communication enough to spend most of a day talking about it . . . he probably has to pick and choose his battles with the COO, and he may not want to spend his energy on communications.

This is a tough one. If anyone out there has any advice, I'd love to pass it along to my client.

What is an 'employee ambassador'?

Greetings, and Happy Seasons Greetings Merry Chanukah Kwanzaa Christmas! to all!

(I'm copywriting that phrase, as I expect it to become a very popular alternative to all this nonsensical hand-wringing over whether we're allowed to say CHRISTmas anymore).

A communicator friend of mine has a problem, and I thought I would throw it out to the blogosphere to see if anyone had any answers.

Here's the deal:

She's the head of internal communications for a large, global company. She's been given a wad of money from her 'Global Brand Management' group to 'develop and implement an 'Employee Ambassador' program in North America in 2005.

There are two goals:

1. 'To engender a greater feeling of pride among our employees about [the company] and what we make.
2. 'To do a better job of using our employees as an extension of our marketing/sales team, by doing a good enough job at #1 that they want to tell friends, family, strangers, etc. about [the company] and our products.'

'This is a pretty big deal,' my friend tells me, 'since rarely are we given a budget to specifically address an 'internal' issue like this.'

The problem is, she doesn't know where to start. Does anyone else? I have some ideas I'll share in the discussion section . . . but I'd love to hear from any other communicators who have done this sort of thing.

Thanks, and once again, Happy Seasons Greetings Merry Chanukah Kwanzaa Christmas!

A tricky technology question

I read about an interesting dilemma on CNN.com yesterday.

(Did you know that according to the AP Stylebook, 'dilemma' is not synonymous with 'problem'? According to the Stylebook, a dilemma is 'more than a problem. It implies a choice between two unattractive choices.' I put a copy of the Stylebook in the bathroom recently, and have been reading it in 15-minute sessions for the past week. It's amazing how much I've learned. I highly recommend that you add it to your bathroom reading list.)

Anyway, here's the dilemma: The family of a Marine killed in Iraq is 'pleading with' Internet giant Yahoo! for access to the soldier's e-mail account. The company, of course, says the account is off-limits under its privacy policy.

This is a gut-wrenching story if there ever was one. On the family side, this is a way to hold on to a piece of their son. 'I want to be able to remember him in his words,' the soldier's father says in the story. 'I know he thought he was doing what he needed to do. I want to have that for the future. It's the last thing I have of my son.'

How can you argue with that?

But I can also see Yahoo!'s point of view, too. If they can't protect the privacy of their members, they will be out of business in less than a year.

And there's one other point of view that you can't forget about: that of the soldier.

Do you remember being 20 years old? There was no e-mail when I was 20, but if there was, I would have lived in constant terror that someday my parents might read what I wrote to my friends at that age. Constant, unbending terror.

Back in my day, we talked on the phone a lot. It's all we had. Reading a kid's e-mail today would be the equivalent of taping all my phone conversations and then letting my parents read a transcript of those tapes. Can you think of anything worse?

I hope—for everyone's sake—that Yahoo! doesn't bend on this.

See you next year!

Ragan Communications is shutting down both its brick and plaster offices and its Web site, starting today. They'll open both on Monday, January 3rd.

So, while I'll be writing and collecting good stuff over the holidays, I'll have no way to post.

But check back here January 3 for a flurry of corporate hallucinations.

And in the meantime, get off the computer and spend some time with your family . . . or just go on a Christmas bender. Whatever makes you happy.