I remember having a chat with the orgainisers of Ecotopia a few months ago. The three of us were drinking mint tea and lamenting the state of the sustainability conversation. In particular, we lamented how the conversation is mostly around dystopia and all the stuff that’s bound to happen if we don’t make the change.

The guys were sharing their thoughts for a project that would focus on the opposite and give time instead to our visions for a better world. It would be called Ecotopia and it would be a collaborative vision from people in business, government, culture and the arts.

Now, many weeks of hard work later, they’ve done it. They’ve organised an event to make this possible.

The day will be split into five paradigm shifts, the journey of those shifts will be charted through a series of conversations, workshops and debates. And the final results will be turned into a film, which will be screened during COP15.

I will be one of the hosts for the conversations around communities and communication. The content is shaping up really well and it looks hot already with contributions from the likes of the team behind the Tibetan Film Festival.

If you’d like to help us design ecotopia, book your tickets here. If you’d like to attend the screening in Copenhagen, get your tickets here.

The social media strategy echo chamber is something I’ve lamented before.

Every time there’s a social media conference taking place anywhere in the world, all the lovely strategists I follow on Twitter share the wisdom they hear. Thanks guys! Because of you, I don’t have to attend those sessions. Instead, I can sit somewhere comfortable, within easy reach of a plug-socket and enjoy the echo chamber from afar.

I thought it was high time I passed it forward.

Ultimately, every conference or gathering of the social media kind can be reduced to five bullet points, and they’re all right here for your reading pleasure. Glorious little nuggets of oft’ touted social media quasi-wisdom, read this and you too, never have to attend another social media do.

1. It’s about social ideas, NOT social media

2. Be Nice

3. Be transparent

4. Always in beta

5. Social is TWO way

So now you know.

Have I missed one? Is there another piece of echo that’s missing from the list? Send it forth yon planner.

Thanks to Asi for his help in pulling this final list together.

The first time I stumbled across the BMV acronym was in the  brilliant Umair Haque’s post Apple’s Next Revolution — And What You Can Learn From It

The acronym, Umair informed me, is the way media bankers are now referring to books, music and video. I stared at it for a while, a wry smile stretching across my face. There is something so beautifully dismissive about this acronym and the way it clumps together three very different products and industries around the one thing they have in common: they haven’t really cracked digital yet.

I work in digital, so naturally I think about this kinda shiz all the time. If I worked in BMV I would be thinking about this shiz all the time too – and I’d be seriously excited.

It’s not the first time progress and innovation has changed the face of industries. Recently, digital photography changed the way we took pictures. And famously, Polaroid was late to the party. Like Polaroid it’s understandable that digital progress can be seen as a threat, a competitor and for many in BMV, the end of the line. I don’t think it has to be this way, for me it comes down to three things: being open to the possibility, reframing the way you see competitors and remembering that human behaviour is human behaviour.

Being open to the possibility

No matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut you can’t imagine a world in which someone will curl up in bed with a digital tablet covered in the words of a book. “It’s just not the same”, you say, “there’s something special about flicking through actual pages”. Try to remember that your grandparents probably thought ATMs were barmy too. A few months ago I met a shopkeeper who confidently informed me that the internet wouldn’t take off.  If you think that people will always want actual things like CDs in their lives with the actual booklet that it comes with or real, live DVDs and books with proper pages, you may very well be right. That said, I’d highly recommend  you entertain the possibility that the opposite may be true. Just sayin’.

Reframing the way you see competitors

Polaroid stubbornly denied digital photography had a future because they saw it as a competitor and threat instead of what it really was: an opportunity. BMV should try reframe threats as opportunities. Consider what you can learn from those things considered to be threats – and I mean everything from illegal downloaders, to leaked copies of books, what insight does it provide? And how can you use these behaviours to gain invaluable insight to progress your industry?

Human behaviour is human behaviour

The interesting thing about technological advancements is that it’s simply given us more opportunities to do the same things. People are still doing the same thing with photography that they’ve always done. The average Joe is still taking pictures of his kids and family on holiday to share with friends. People who enjoy photography are still fiddling with their shots and trying to capture landscapes at the right light. Only the format has changed. Same goes with BMV, people are still fans of artistes, be they novelists or musicians. They still want to support them, find out more about them, have access to as much information about them as possible. Except today, a music fan isn’t limited to the booklet in a CD, they’re on MySpace and wikipedia. How can you use technology to mimic behaviour that is commonplace for traditional BMV? What would a digital library look like? How can people lend each other films online?

What do you think the future of BMV is? What do you recommend people working in BMV should do to make the most of the times we’re living in? What’s your challenge for them?

A couple of weeks ago a raggedy looking thespian walked through the streets of Covent Garden wearing a sign offering me the chance to buy shares in the South Sea Company. What I didn’t realise at the time – and what Danvers told me all about at last night’s Bootlaw – was that the South Sea Company and infamous South Sea Bubble of 1720 is the very thing that established the fundamental principles of our share trading laws. Thanks guys.

Last night’s chat started with a nod to history and Danvers regaled us with text from ancient legal scripts. I couldn’t write fast enough to get them down, but Danvers if you’re reading this, stick a couple in the comments please. Ta.

Anyway, the result of those rather amusing laws and The South Sea bubble was The Bubble Act, which was followed by the Joint Stock Act in 1844 and then Ltd. Companies in 1856.

So there’s the rather sketchy, seriously abridged history. Moving on, we were taken through three broad subjects last night: Private vs. Public companies, Prospectus, and financial promotion rules

Private companies vs. Public companies

The difference between a private and public company is not rocket science. One is private, with private investors, the other is public with shares available to be purchased by the public at large. If you’re a private company and you try to sell shares to the general public you are most certainly a fool, but the good news is, you’re not a criminal. This wrong-stepping has just recently been decriminalised. Relief.

Prospectus

Unless you’re raising finance into the tens of millions you don’t want a prospectus. Why? Because they’re about ‘this big’ and need an even bigger pile of money to be created in the first place. Your prospectus for the offer to the public (which offers anyone in the public the opportunity to buy shares in your company) will then live with the FSA and the United Kingdom Listing Authority. Basically, the point of the prospectus is to offer securities to those who choose to invest in your business. And naturally, it’s all regulated within an inch of its life. Again, time to hit the rule book.  Numerous exemptions apply and its worth making sure one applies.  Do you really want to write a full blown prosectus?

The Financial Promotions Rules

The FSA are ‘the police’ of this regime, but instead of policing the actual act of investment, they have instead wisely chosen to focus on the advertisement of the offer of shares.
Broadly the rules say that unless you are a person authorized by the FSA then you cannot make a financial promotion (unless an exemption applies; read on for info). How do they police these promotions? In various ways, including a hotline that anyone can use to draw their attention to such things.

So what happens if you put an offer out into the world inviting people to buy shares in your company, no exemption applies and it isn’t sent by an FSA authorised person?

• You can go to prison for 2 years (unpleasant)
• You could be liable to pay the investors damages which would be based on a calculation as if they’d invested in the next BIG thing.
• But wait, there’s more, if you think that the liability will be limited to the company, you’re wrong, all the people involved in, or responsible for, the Financial Promotion.

If you’re wondering how the heck any business gets any investors with all this stuffy stuff, then wonder no more. The ability to make financial promotions in the venture backed emerging growth company sector is really less focused on getting an authorised person to send it for you but instead relying on the exemptions. Basically after some checks you can send your investment opportunity note to the following people (think Dragon’s Den):

• A sophisticated individual – Someone who’s invested in a private company within the past two years
• A high net-worth individual – Someone who earns more than £100k a year and have investable assets of about £250k.

There are other exemptions. For example, there is a journalists exemption. Generally, if a journalist writes about your company and an interested investor comes to you with an offer the original story won’t count as a Financial Promotion.  How do you get the journalist interested in your story in the first place.  Some clever PR maybe!
Takeway, remember selling shares in your company is heavy on rules the result of hundreds of years company law. If you’re offering shares you need to think about them rules and make sure your complying with them. Mostly this will mean falling within an exemption.
I’d like to end this post by saying Happy Birthday to Bootlaw. Hip hip guys, thanks for a year of legal brilliance, beer, pizza and chat. Here’s to many more.

Dearest Dad

I know you don’t get it, but I’m really not interested in buying a house. Every time I say that sentence to you, you finish it for me with the words: right now. The thing is, it’s not that I’m not interested in buying a house at this point in time, but really that I think buying houses is silly.

Here’s why:

1. I’m not British

When I first arrived in the UK at the ripe old age of 20 I fell for the property ladder love story, hook line and sinker. So much so that I went and bought my first house at 23. Now though, I feel this home owner lust is one of the worst examples of traditional wisdom getting it completely wrong – not to mention a good example of groupthink (which I seem to be talking a lot about lately). In a consumerist, capitalist society we’re loathe to question the seemingly obvious sense in buying and owning something. I have quesitoned it – and I ain’t in love no more. Also, the more I’ve travelled and talked to friends the more I’ve realised that this desire to own bricks and mortar is peculiarly British. All over Europe people rent for years without giving it a second though. It feels like an inherited opinion with a distinct whiff of Thatcherism, but more of that some other time.

2. Renting gets me a better place

Renting gets you way better value for money in the short-term too. In London a house that would sell for £500k will be rented out for £500 a week, that’s the rule of thumb. That’s £2000 a month(ish). The mortgage payments would be £2900 (according to the nifty FSA mortage calculator) based on a 25 year mortgage at 5%. But let’s forget payments for a moment and think about saving for a deposit and actually qualifying for that mortgage to begin with. Don’t even get me started on the legal fees and HIPS.

3. Mortgages are bad deals

Every time I tell people that I want to keep renting and not bother buying they say the same thing: but doesn’t it bother you that you’re paying someone else’s mortgage? No, people, it does not bother me in the least. You see, I think mortgages are bad deals. When you work out what you’ve actually paid for your house over the mortgage period you’ll see that it’s shitloads (in the example above that works out at £870k by crudely multiplying the monthly payment by 300 months).

I’d rather let someone else do that and I’ll just get a decent casa a la point 2.

4. It’s not a solid investment

Traditional wisdom again tells us that an investment in property can’t lose. Even though I have friends who sold parts of their souls to scrape together deposits for houses that ended up in negative equity when the crash happened. Property is no longer a sure bet. There are loads of things I’d invest in before I’d even think of property. With £30k in the bank, you better believe I’d invest in a small web business first. At least I’d be in control of the business’s success. The housing market though, I have no control over that.

5. I don’t want to be tied down

I like the freedom renting affords me. I can move easily and experience living in different places. It gives me the freedom to take chances and seize opportunities that I would be far more reluctant to do if I had a mortgage. Because I know that if I earn more or less next year I can change my outgoings and home accordingly. It’s flexible and easy.

So there you have it. I’m renting, happily for the foreseeable future. In fact, I can only see one little instance in which that might change. For me the only upside of buying is the freedom to  knock walls  down or paint them blue (hypothetically of course).  So in the future some time if I fancy a house project, I won’t inflict those impulses on an unsuspecting landlord. I promise.

Your loving daughter,

Lea

Is it just me, or is the planning world a bit of an echo-chamber?

As strategists we are meant to question these subjective interpretations, but that’s not what I come across most of the time. Most of the time I hear regurgitated aphorisms.  And because we all blog and tweet etc. these strange kind of strategy memes are crossing oceans. No matter who’s blog I read, or which country they’re in, it’s the same shit I hear. It’s a classic case of groupthink.

Perhaps it’s a sign of the times. Perhaps we’re all looking for answers so desperately that when we hear something that sounds smart, we take it, cradle it, make it our own and spew it forth without questioning its truth.

Sometimes a beautifully phrased aphorism is just that.

Take the nauseating phrase ‘media agnostic’ and the odd, unquestioning positivity that surrounds it. Maybe, just maybe channel agnosticism is a truly useless way to plan marketing? Maybe it’s the shiz. But surely we should question it?

And how many times a week do you hear ‘there is no such thing as social media, it’s all about social ideas’. Really? No such thing? When was the last time you wrote a comment on your printed newspaper that was immediately read by everyone else flicking through its pages?

I could continue ad nauseum.

If you’re a planner, here are my three nifty tips for avoiding groupthink:

1. Think. That’s your job. Question the hell out of everything, even beautifully phrased aphorisms.
2. If you’re going to regurgitate somebody’s aphorism, say it’s theirs. Don’t just say it as if you came up with it yourself. We all know you didn’t. You look like a dick.
3. Dare to debate. Disagreeing with peers, even peers who blog beautifully phrased aphorisms is healthy. Be brave, be original.

Last night I was lucky enough to attend a Hendicks Gin party at the glorious Wiltons Music Hall.

As small small indication of just how bloody incredible the evening was, the picture above is an ice-filled bathtub in Wilton’s foyer. The taps, when turned by a beautifully groomed man in a top hat, pour Hendricks Gin.

My evening, was the shiz, and naturally, it got me thinking about work.

This is my second Hendricks experience and I can now conclude with confidence that they are hot. Sizzling hot. Hendricks understand the power of experiential marketing, careful targetting and how to do it all with understated style. Yes, they gave me cocktails, but I drank the cocktails without being swamped with logo-emblazoned goods, they spared me the customer survey and didn’t so much as ask for my email address.

Marketing types can learn a lot from these people (cocktail-making aside). But probably the most important lesson of all is to choose your partner carefully. Hendricks partnership with Wiltons Music Hall is like a compatibility overload – this is written-in-the-stars kind of perfect.

For those of you who don’t yet know Wiltons, it’s a treasure nestled near Tower Bridge.

The space is breathtaking – heavy with history and ambiance. Perfect for the Victoriana chic of the Hendricks brand. Hendricks are wise enough to know that sizzling hot though they may be, this venue gave them instant credibility and a charm you couldn’t find anywhere else.

There is talk that there may be more of these evenings in the future. In the meanwhile, everyone in London should put a night aside for some magical Wiltons action. To find out what’s going on, follow the theatre on Twitter and become a fan on Facebook.

There’s a funny thing that brands do. They do this thing where they totally and utterly lose any connection with the actual meaning of their names. Apple, Orange, Dell, Polo, Mars – these are all brand names that are linked to the things they brand, not the actual words.

I’ve spent many an hour dreaming up names for things. And always tried to remind myself and my client that ultimately, nobody thought of actual led zeppelins when they said the bands name. I’m pretty confident when hearing the bands name, very few of us actually picture zeppelins in collars with leads… or whatever it may conjure in your own minds eye when forced to.

Now I find that there are some words that are so overused, so misused that the same thing has happened to them.

Sustainability. What does it mean to you? A marketing opportunity? A buzz word? A hippy thing? A movement to save the species?

So much nonsense has absolutely shat in the face of sustainability and its very point. That’s why so many ecologically motivated people I meet yack on about how green stuff needs a new brand. Pardon the controversy, but I reckon sustainability is the perfect word for finding a way forward that doesn’t have an end. A future that, well, is sustained.

What do you think?

How easy-going was Robert's wine tasting? Well I walked in with one of these and walked out alive. That's how.

On Friday night I attended my second Twitter live wine tasting event, as conjured by Robert McIntosh.  I blogged about the first one way back in August last year. The thinking goes like so: groups of people around the world can convene around a table laden with gorgeous food (this time with thanks to the awesome kindness of The Lansdowne Pub in Primrose Hill and drink amazing wine. These various groups are then brought together through the magic of the Twitter hashtag, where tasting notes, compliments and the occasional taunt are shared across the oceans and aggregated on the live tasting site.

This people, is wine 2.0. And it rocks.

It rocks because the strategy is so sound and so utterly perfect for the web. Robert loves wine and knows truckloads about the luscious liquor. But unlike the wine universe we’ve probably all encountered at some time or another, he wants wine to be more accessible – less up-itself, shall we say. So unlike other tastings I’ve been to where one might feel a tad forced into using phrases like ‘leathery yet floral bouquet”, Robert encourages notes like this one from @browners

“Wine number 5. #ttl. Chateau neuf du pape. I’m a massive fan of this.

Ending on a high. Like Amy winehouse probably will.”

To me, the reason these nights work so well is because they tick all the boxes of an authentic social media endeavour. They’re arranged by actual people, that you actually meet. They have a real, genuine desire to achieve something worthwhile. They’re not forced, over-strategised or massively contrived. They don’t sell, sell, sell (though I am going to buy as many oodles of the Chateau neuf as I can afford). And they understand the return on their investment (time and money) will come steadily, organically and surely.

During the course of the evening, a group of digital strategists, wine 2.0s and food bloggers (and a lot of them are all three) got talking about why these evenings are so successful and how horribly wrong brands get it when they try to mimic the grassroots adventures started by the digital ‘community’ (if there is such a thing).

There were many opinions around the table, to my mind, the thing that brands get wrong most often is the subtlety of the affair. A traditional marketer hearing about our evening might feel compelled to create something similar. Unfortunately, creating a list of bloggers and then sending out a blanket email inviting them to a thing and quite blatantly asking them to sell your product for you is not the same thing. And as a brand person I suspect quite strongly that it achieves the complete opposite and puts people off your brand entirely. It’s a shame, because it dampens the entire spirit of all that is online and collaborative.

I think brands who want to dip their toes in social media waters should consider these two things first:

1. Reality Bites – You have to work way harder as a big brand trying to play the digital grassroots game. Typically, there’ll be a level of cynicism to deal with that you wouldn’t encounter if you were just a dude who loved wine.
2. RIO what? – There is no standard for measuring these activities yet. This is not television. We don’t know how many people you’ll talk to. We could guess, but hey, we’d be guessing. And if you’re honest with yourself (and this is a whole other post) you don’t know much about TV either, the industry’s just older and standardised myths to work with.

After a lot of consideration, I’m starting to think that Social Media stuff for corporates needs its own rule book. I’m not convinced that the purist approach cuts the corporate brand mustard. And I don’t know that it’s right for brands or their audiences to attempt to mimic the organic slow-burn that’s so seductive on a grassroots level.

What do you think? If you’re a blogger, have you been approached in a vile way by e-PRs (I certainly have)? What did you do? And what do you think of bloggers who sell their souls for a freebie? If you’re a strategy-head, what advice do you give your clients?

What makes a brand?

Not a brand designer.

Not a piece of comms.

And certainly not some lame message map or brand expression guidelines dull enough to get you eating your own hair.

In these times when people are more connected to their favourite brands than they are to their neighbours, the notion of brand is much bigger. And even as I type that, I question whether brand ownership was ever actually possible. For me, great brands are shaped by promises and the delivery of those promises.

promise + delivery of promise = brand equity

And it is the perceived delivery of the promises that makes this interesting – it could mean first class engineering for Jaguar or really cheap, no frills service for EasyJet. That’s not the point. The point is that a company expressed themselves in a certain way, and the actual, real life experience was in keeping with that expression.

If this is true and I obviously think it is. Why then does branding work typically only focus on the one part of what makes a brand?

Surely it stands to reason that the way we approach our work should change as the world does. And technology has made a bunch of stuff possible that never was before.

Our consumer experiences are out there in the open place and we communicate with eachother at warp speed. What does this mean for the people that work on strategy? For the people who make it their daily business to find insights for their clients?

I think they should be right in there with the companies they’re working with, defining the most ‘on brand’ customer relations behaviour,  helping to define the personality that embodies every single interaction with the company.

Why do I think this is a good idea? I spent the past year of my life launching a start-up. It was self-funded and self run. So the three partners had to do it all. What we found, as the people who designed the brand and did the community management and everything else was that we started to judge ways of handling situations  – and that includes things like invoicing and payment – by asking which option was most on brand. We created the brand, honed its expression and ensured that the promises within our expressions were kept. This holistic approach worked well for us. And I think it would be very interesting for marketing minds to get more involved in their clients’ businesses.

What do you think?