Category Archives: appreciation

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Robin Williams, RIP

Six years ago, I wrote a blog post about “Why I’m Mourning Michael Jackson’s Death” in which I said this:

“I think we all get crazy in our obsession with the deaths of someone like Michael Jackson because he was there, singing in the background, when we experienced so many things we hold dear. The music is still there. The memories are still there. But if Michael Jackson can die, does that mean a part of us dies with him? I think that’s what we mourn.

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How John Seigenthaler Changed Wikipedia

John Seigenthaler, the legendary editor of Nashville’s daily newspaper, The Tennessean, died yesterday (Friday, July 11, 2014) in his Nashville home. In addition to recounting his remarkable career in journalism and public service, an event nine years ago that’s now referred to by early contributors to Wikipedia as “the Wikipedia Seigenthaler incident” earned a paragraph in Mr. Seigenthaler’s New York Time’s obituary.

As a Nashvillian and admirer of Mr. Seigenthaler for decades, I was angered in 2005 by that thoughtless and vulgar prank that became one of the most controversial episodes in the early history of the online user-contributed encyclopedia. In hindsight, the prank and following events led to much needed changes by those who created and fostered the early development of Wikipedia.
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RIP Osmo Wiio. An accidentally great communicator

20_wiio_wwwRecently, I learned of the death in February of Finnish academic (and more) Osmo Wiio, the originator of some of my favorite go-to quotes regarding communications. (More on those quotes in a moment.)

To be honest, I was surprised that he was still alive in 2013–I’ve never thought of Osmo Wiio being an actual, living human being. To me, he was more like a mythical, even mystical, figure from a mystical land. (Update & correction: I’ve been informed that Finland is an actual country, not a fictional one.)

I’ve always pictured Osmo Wiio residing up on some after-life mountain top, where he spends his days sipping vodka, smoking cigars and exchanging quip-filled theories on why people say the darndest things with other dearly departed buddies, say, Sigmund Freud, Marshall McLuhan and Garrison Keillor. (Update & correction: I’ve been informed that Garrison Keillor is still alive. I really should start fact-checking this stuff.)

Professor Wiio was creator of something others have called, “the Murphy’s Law of Communications,: “Osmo Wiio’s Seven Laws of Communication Failure.” The essence of Wiio’s Laws is summed up in his first law:

“Communications never works,
except by accident.”

(At the bottom of this post, I’ve included all seven laws and corollaries.)

Specifically, it is the 4th Corollary to the first law that, early in my previous career as a full-time producer of professional puffery, became the framework for my understanding and explanation of why so much of the messaging and marketing that originates in the halls of power at large corporations, organizations and government, reaches the rest of us in the form of condescending, indecipherable gibberish and spinglish (“spin” + “english”).

Here is the 4th Corollary of Osmo Wiio’s 1st Law of Communications Failure:

  • “If you are content with your message, communication certainly fails.”

If you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering: How can being content with your message mean it will fail?

However, when it comes to communications, Osmo Wiio taught us that it doesn’t matter how much you fall in love with what you’re saying — it only matters what the recipient determines he or she has heard (or seen, et al). And the more you love what you are saying, the more likely it has been crafted to please you (or your CEO) than the intended audience.

What I learned from Osmo Wiio

For my entire career, a recurring duty of my job has been to inform clients (and myself) in a wide variety of delicate ways that I believe the part of their message pleasing them the most is not going to be comprehended or appreciated by the audience. You’re not writing for them, I say.*

To help me explain this in a delicate way, I’ve evoked Osmo Wiio by saying something like:

“It’s like Osmo Wiio says, the success of communication does not hinge on how effectively and brilliantly you say what you want to say. The success of communication is determined 100% by what the recipient of your message hears. The more you and I love what we have to say, the more an alarm bell should go off in our head that begs us to ask ourselves, ‘Who are we writing this for?’ Chances are, we’re writing it for ourselves”

The following is based on a true story

About 30 years ago, when I was first starting out in my life-long quest to one day be endorsed as a content marketer on LinkedIn, I found myself in a very formal presentation setting where I was proposing what turned out to be the first “custom magazine” I ever published  — an employee magazine with a circulation of 30,000 for a fast-growing publicly-traded financial services business. As part of the development of the magazine, I had traveled around the country to meet with executives and employees of many of the companies that had been acquired by the fast-growing potential client.

I don’t recall why, but the proposal process ended up with me presenting our ideas to the company’s CEO, one of those bigger-than-life people who always have a group of loyal handlers in tow. At one point during the presentation, the CEO asked me how the magazine could help spread his values.

Having just learned about Wiios laws, I set aside the prepared presentation and started ad-libbing (something that has gotten me into trouble more often than not, over the years since, but it worked that day):

“If you want to be successful at spreading your values to your employees, I’ve got to be honest and tell you what I’ve learned from visiting all of the companies you’ve acquired. The senior managers of those companies are afraid of you–they think you’re some kind of cowboy and you are going to fire them.

“Chances are, they’ll trash the magazines you ship to them and not let employees or customers see them if they have anything about you or your values in it.” And then I said, as if channeling Osmo Wiio, “If we create a magazine about how great you and your values are, it will likely fail. However, if you let us go find employees at the companies you are acquiring who are already demonstrating your values in action and make them the heroes of the magazine, I think you’ll have a magazine that will flank those managers and convey your values.

And then I said something that came out of left-field or Finland, “I think we should avoid having a photo of you, or even mentioning your name in the magazine for at least a year after the magazine starts being published. You’ll say more by not being in the magazine than you will if you look like you are using it to preach to the employees.”

Had I not been so young and stupid, I would have noticed the CEO’s entourage turning pale and looking ready to pounce on me. But in one of those perfect moments that you remember 30 years later when writing a blog post, the CEO slammed his palm down on the table and said, “that’s exactly what we should do.”

I had communicated, quite by accident, what Osmo Wiio’s teachings are all about.

And, in a lucky set of circumstances, my recommendation worked and soon that CEO made an outrageous amount of money when an even bigger company acquired his (who, in turn, fired us).

I became a true-believer in Osmo Wiio for life for I discovered that even CEOs love to learn why people always seem to misunderstand the brilliant things they are saying.

After you can explain it to them in a way that allows the CEO to know that he or she can craft a brilliant message that fails because the audience is listening in a different way, they begin to see how they need to think differently about how (and for whom) to craft their message.

Osmo Wiio will be missed, but his rules will live forever, even if by accident.

Osmo Wiio’s Laws for Communications Failure:

Communication usually fails, except by accident.

  • If communication can fail, it will.
  • If communication cannot fail, it still most usually fails.
  • If communication seems to succeed in the intended way, there’s a misunderstanding.
  • If you are content with your message, communication certainly fails.

If a message can be interpreted in several ways, it will be interpreted in a manner that maximizes the damage.

There is always someone who knows better than you what you meant with your message.

The more we communicate, the worse communication succeeds.

  • The more we communicate, the faster misunderstandings propagate.

In mass communication, the important thing is not how things are but how they seem to be.

The importance of a news item is inversely proportional to the square of the distance.

The more important the situation is, the more probably you forget an essential thing that you remembered a moment ago.

*As most of my “professional” writing is for others, I long ago decided to make this blog the one place where I write for myself. I accepted long ago that this blog communicates very little to anyone, except by accident.

Welcome back, Kathy Sierra

draumurDanceKathy Sierra is one of those people I’ve been fortunate to meet through blogging who has provided me a framework for understanding and articulating (at least to the 12 people who read this blog) my beliefs about marketing — or, more precisely, about that thing that is replacing what we used to call marketing.

While others were beginning their quest to see who could shout the loudest such buzzwords as “content” and “social,” in her 2007 blog, Creating Passionate Users, Kathy was saying, simply, “make customers awesome.”

Again, listen: Make customers awesome.  (Although, she said, “make users awesome,” as her audience was primarily software developers back then.)

Making customers awesome has nothing to do with telling customers how great you are, what awards you’ve won, how much money you’ve raised for your startup, that you are “first” or “best” or “largest.” Making customers awesome isn’t about how clever your Superbowl ads are, how many followers on Twitter you have, how many Facebook likes you’ve got.

Making customers awesome is helping potential buyers (customers) and those who purchase your product (owners, users, members) reach the goal they desire in work, or in life, or strictly for pleasure–and then to help them go beyond that goal to the land of Awesome. (Or, as she now might say, the land of “Kick Ass.”)

Making customers awesome is about teaching, helping and inspiring.

Along with several other muses on this topic (like Doc Searls, the late Osmo Wiio*, Hugh MacLeod, Jason Fried) and 20+ years of working with some great clients and the amazing staff of Hammock with whom I get to hang out every day, Kathy inspired me to re-think a lot of what I once assumed marketing is all about — especially the kind of highly custom, often post-sale, relationship-building services we provide.

Kathy’s simple message, and use of cute graphics she created with stock photos, and her presentation skills, turned her into a rockstar among a certain niche (a niche with many people) of software and tech-oriented marketers. It also brought out some of the haters who too often show up when anyone gets too, well, popular with the cool (in this case, cool but geeky) kids.

I was saddened when Kathy stopped blogging, and with the circumstances surrounding it, and have missed the way her posts exercised my brain.

I’m happy, therefore, that she’s blogging once more, at the site SeriousPony.com and is on Twitter, as well, at the username, @seriouspony. Her new blog, she writes, “is mostly about the science of badass, with a little UX, learning theory, game design, DSLR video, horses, and code.”

Can’t wait to see what that means.

Welcome back, Kathy.


*I learned recently that Osmo Wiio passed away in March. I’ll be posting an item about him later.

Feste, RIP

Feste, co-writing a Rexblog post.
Feste, co-writing a Rexblog post.

Feste, the dog our family has belonged to for the past 15 years, died today. In my life, I have never loved, or appreciated, or learned so much from a dog as I have Feste.

I was lucky to belong to Feste.

Feste, a Coton de Tulear [tippy title="(...)"]The Coton de Tuléar is a breed of small dog. It is named for the city of Tuléar in Madagascar and for its cotton-like coat. See: Coton de Tulear in Wikipedia[/tippy], lived a long, loving and healthy life. In the end, his body started shutting down, as all of our bodies will one day. Great vets and modern medicine helped extend the time his heart and lungs worked well, so we were able to live with him for the maximum possible period. But during the past few days, post-holidays, he began to visibly decline and suffer from what we’ve learned was renal failure. As he is within a few months of being 15 (100+ in human years) and has lived with such good health for so long, our primary desire was to prevent him from suffering and so we’ve spent the past day weeping for his loss, yet celebrating the joy he brought our lives.

Feste was my rock — he loved me, no matter what. He was never disappointed in me, even when I was. Feste was all the proof I need that certain dogs provide magical therapeutic power through their gentleness, friendliness and willingness to be petted and handled by anyone, no matter what their age.

Feste was a lover; an expert companion dog, knowing precisely how close to snuggle up to someone on the sofa — even learning different family member’s preferences for how they liked to pet or scratch. He loved to be petted for as long as possible, but was never demanding when you decided it was time to turn the page of a book or stop due to the cramping of your fingers.

And, as is displayed on the accompanying photo, he wrote most of the posts on this blog.

My wife, always Feste’s favorite by any measure, has anticipated this day longer than I have. Feste loved my wife more than any dog I’ve known has loved a human. Every time she would mention the inevitability of Feste’s death, I would quickly change the subject and say something like, “Let’s just love him today and appreciate every moment he’s with us.” While doing that, her practical side would also kick-in — denial is not my wife’s strong-suit.

A few weeks ago, my wife told me that she had been in contact with the breeder who allowed [tippy title="(...)"]after an interview and careful screening[/tippy] Feste to join our family. My wife, when recounting the recent phone conversation, used the word “puppies” in a sentence. It was then I knew that she was anticipating this day with the type of understanding that only she and Feste truly shared.

Their way of preparing for this day, I guess.

Today, however, my family has weeped for Feste’s loss and smiled as we thought about all the joy he brought us.

And we thanked God for letting us live with Feste for the past 15 years.

Below are just a few of my favorite photos of Feste.