So this VRM thing

I had the great pleasure this evening of attending the VRMhub meeting organ­ised by Adriana Lukas, and attended by a group of extremely clever people working to try to make it happen (and me). Tonight, Cluetrain co-​​author and father of the VRM project Doc Searls was in attend­ance. I’ll para­phrase his intro­duc­tion and add a little commentary.

509344f9ebdc8fe2371dbb1512f6d106b63397f9_m Right now, VRM (vendor rela­tion­ship man­age­ment) is an idea. It’s pre­dic­ated on the per­cep­tion that the rela­tion­ships between people and brands/​companies are terrible. They shout at us with their mega­phones and we often do our best to ignore them. Most of the time, the only thing either side ever talks about is the exchange of money — “how much does it cost?” Compared to a real market, a street market, that’s an extremely impov­er­ished relationship.

Up till now, it’s been business that has come up with ‘solu­tions’ to mar­keting problems. But there are some problems that can and ought to be solved from the indi­vidual per­spective, the demand side, Searls maintains.

One of the latest solu­tions to the problem of mar­keting without wasting loads of money is CRM. Companies collect loads of data about their cus­tomers and poten­tial cus­tomers and then target their mar­keting efforts at segments of those groups. CRM is ‘lame and bad’, though, because it isn’t about rela­tion­ships at all, but about media planning. And it can go wrong badly, Searls recounted that his Satellite TV company simply lost his account details when he last moved house — he lost the extras and perks he’d gained from being a long-​​standing customer.

Searls also cited the example of National Public Radio in the US, a service akin to the BBC, but dependent on vol­un­tary con­tri­bu­tions rather than a licence fee. So how do they get people to make con­tri­bu­tions? Every so often they say they are going to have to close down because they haven’t got enough money. So people send in money. Then, for the rest of their lives, they get spammed by the organ­isa­tion, asking for more. This is inef­fective and intrusive. There’s no mech­anism for listeners to act the way they want to nat­ur­ally. They can’t donate money to a par­tic­ular show they enjoy, for example.

There are efforts to cut out advert­ising and create more direct rela­tion­ships. The online sale of Radiohead’s In Rainbows, for example. The trouble is that these come from the supplier side, so we poten­tially end up with a million dif­ferent ways of dealing with organ­isa­tions we want to buy things from. If the nature and tech­no­logy for managing those rela­tion­ships came from the customer side, then it could be uniform and cut out a lot of the inef­fi­cien­cies in the system.

Searls views the VRM project as unfin­ished business from the Cluetrain Manifesto. The central insight there, ‘markets are con­ver­sa­tions’, has struck many people as true and right, but the tech­no­lo­gical imple­ment­a­tion and man­age­ment of that remains frus­trat­ingly tricky.

So how does VRM work?

That remains some­thing of a conun­drum. The best bet — as far as I could make out — is that it integ­rates with blogs or is similar to blogging. Individuals record their pref­er­ences and the personal data that you normally need to use an eco­m­merce site — on their own sites (or maybe they use a third-​​party service or a facebook app or whatever).

Those pref­er­ences are objects on your site — I think they are probably recorded as micro­formats — little snippets of machine-​​readable code that you can post online. There are already formats like hCard that can act as an online business card. Carrying that over to record things like product details or pref­er­ences wouldn’t be terribly dif­fi­cult from a tech­nical per­spective, as I under­stand it. So there might be a micro­format that records your pref­er­ence for airline seats, for example — extra legroom, window seat, not by the wing, say. You’d have that little code snippet at a unique URL and you could decide whether to allow uni­versal access or access only for com­panies that you’ve decided to have a rela­tion­ship with. If a company annoys you, you could cut off their access at the press of a button.

So you have got all these details and pref­er­ences recorded in your online strongbox. Then — if you want — you let Amazon or Waitrose or whoever have access to the parts of that that you chose. The con­sequences might be that (a) you never have to fill in online forms again; (b) com­panies get to submit tenders for whatever it is that you want. I need to buy a new laptop — these are my pref­er­ences — I’m letting that inform­a­tion out to vendors. What have you got? © com­panies have access to rich data about what their cus­tomers actually want from them.

Objections

(a) this all sounds a bit geeky — it will never catch on

Yes it is, so are blogs. And blogs have forced com­panies as big as Dell to com­pletely change the way they interact with their cus­tomers. If we just do it, and it becomes a phe­nomenon, com­panies will be forced to listen. Eventually, it will become pro­duc­tised, the same way MySpace pro­duc­tised blogging.

(b) I don’t want a rela­tion­ship with the people I buy things from

Doc said, “Sometimes, I don’t want a deep rela­tion­ship, I just want a cup of coffee”. And that’s fine. VRM-​​style approaches won’t replace all other mar­keting by every company. However, most people spend most money on big, con­sidered pur­chases like houses and cars. Our ability to properly judge those pur­chases will be enhanced by a VRM approach. Large B2B pur­chases also account for a lot of money. Regular, smaller pur­chases from com­panies like super­mar­kets and book­shops will also be enhanced.

© Hang on, I work for an advert­ising agency/​publisher/​PR Company.

Yeah. You’re screwed.

Well, not entirely. That’s not going to happen overnight and not going to happen to the whole of the mar­ket­place. Think of VRM as having the same impact as blogging activity now and the way that will grow. We’re at the equi­valent of 1999 when it comes to VRM.

(d) Where’s the money?

Good question and it’s not some­thing we know right now. There’s a poten­tial whole new industry called ‘needs man­age­ment services’; there’s the poten­tial for indi­viduals being paid for access to their data; there’s the pos­sib­ility to create large, targeted focus groups on the fly similar to YouGov. Basically, that 50% of the advert­ising budget that doesn’t work is up for grabs because VRM systems guar­antee inter­ested, relevant rela­tion­ships. However, the thing now is to create the phe­nomenon. From the human being per­spective, this better than what we have now. You will have a better life if you embrace VRM.

How to learn more?

I’m glad you asked. NMK is running a panel dis­cus­sion about VRM on the evening of March 18. Do please come along. Top speakers, cheap ticket, free beers, exciting subject. What’s not to like?

[The picture came via ffff­found from here and shows how VRM might work in practise. ;-)]

Corporal Punishment

I love the film Kes (1969). It was still modern when I went to sec­ondary school, nearly ten years later  — some local author­ities were still trying to get it banned when I was teaching in the 90s, and it’s still modern now. This scene, where the poor mes­senger boy from the second form gets beaten seems really resonant.

They had CP at my school back then and I don’t believe it made any dif­fer­ence to anyone’s beha­viour. I don’t believe it did anyone any good. I remain unde­cided as to whether it did us any harm, but that’s a moot point, really. As the headteacher in the clip says, he’ll be beating them week after week with no evident impact. As the story goes, Ken Loach, who always uses impro­visa­tional tech­niques with his normally untrained actors, didn’t tell the boys that they’d be properly caned, hence their very real­istic reactions.

 

PS: I book­marked this link to the fant­ast­ic­ally funny football scene in Kes with the much-​​missed Brian Glover a few weeks ago.

Lifestream (Beta)

Since I am quite evid­ently too pre-​​occupied to write many blog posts, I have set up a Lifestream thingy on a separate page of this site.

It’s very beta at present and tracks my con­tri­bu­tions at twitter, flickr, del.icio.us, last.fm and updates to my work site (NMK). Facebook is already echoing my tweets and blog posts so I’ll save you the pain and leave that off the list.

Hope to add updates to Upcoming and Ffffound soon as possible — I need to make some custom icons and stuff to do that. Would be cool if I can find a way for it to publish the images from flickr and ffffound. That’s why they say beta, I suppose.

One other poten­tial issue — how can I set up an RSS feed for a single page on WordPress? Stalkers cur­rently have to visit the site to see what I’m up to. Hmm. WP experts please respond…

25/​M/​S or Maybe Not

via Richard Sambrook and David Brain, here’s a great present­a­tion from the Lift con­fer­ence, given by Genevieve Bell, who works as an anthro­po­lo­gist at Intel:

It’s about how we all lie online in terms of the way we present ourselves, or rather, that we’ve been lying about ourselves for an awful long time — how we feel, how we feel about our partners and jobs, our height, weight and age, for example — and this hasn’t changed just because tech­no­logy has speeded up. According to psy­cho­lo­gists, we tell between six and 200 lies a day in order to socialise (‘I’m fine’), for play and fun, to hide mis­be­ha­viour, feel safer, feel private, feel better about the world for ourselves and to try to be more popular. There are lots of good (and bad) reasons to dissemble.

Lying is a bad thing for society, of course, as every major religion agrees. Though, on second thoughts, our culture does allow for things like white lies, keeping secrets and pre­serving our privacy, all of which are seen as good things by-​​and-​​large but which normally involve decep­tion. Our actual practice means that decep­tion is implicit to our social existence.

New inform­a­tion tech­no­lo­gies that attempt to insist on personal trans­par­ency don’t really fit with our lying culture or our bio­lo­gical needs. There are con­flicts between our cultural prac­tises and our cultural ideals, and while we can work round those in meat­space, dealing with machines tends to expose those con­flicts. (“Date of Birth?” on the regis­tra­tion screens of a service is a good example.)

Twitter, according to Bell, is about making an art out of con­fab­u­la­tion. The con­struc­tion of a life­style we present is both a bio­lo­gical neces­sity and a work of art in its entirety. On Twitter, you are allegedly telling the world ‘what are you doing right now?’. But I did a little search on Twitter for ‘having a wank’ (sorry, mum) and the lack of any direct matches would seem to support Bell’s contention.

I haven’t seen this subject addressed before and found the present­a­tion fas­cin­ating. I am troubled by the idea that trans­par­ency is coming to be seen as a moral neces­sity. It’s like the web 2.0 equi­valent of Daily Mail readers saying, “you wouldn’t object to CCTV if you had nothing to hide.” As indi­viduals, hiding, privacy, con­fab­u­la­tion, ima­gin­a­tion and play are pretty important to mental health, I think. This is one reason why people are very con­cerned about who they let into their Facebook circle of friends. Facebook insists on people using their real names and thus makes it impossible to hide dif­ferent circles and dif­ferent personae from each other, the way you can offline. Facebook makes it impossible to lie, and that is arguably mentally damaging.

Sit and Listen

[This is a tad off-​​topic but has a 2.0 in it and so is fair game. Feel free to disagree.]

I was at a press briefing for the launch of a new report called Learning 2.0 from the CIM (Chartered Institute of Marketing) this morning (it’s not online till 21/​2). They asked me what I thought of the title. I’m not sure they appre­ci­ated me saying that calling everything 2.0 makes me roll my eyes nowadays. They reckoned that for main­stream mar­keting people, the idea would still seem pretty fresh.

Anyway, the report was about training and learning in the mar­keting industry. The gist of it, which I thought was pretty sound, was as follows:

  • People nowadays don’t have jobs or even careers for life. We have these port­folio careers and we’re all entre­pren­eurial about those careers. The average in-​​house marketer stays in a job for four years; it’s even lower in agency land.
  • Our employers don’t have our indi­vidual agenda at heart when they design training or devel­op­ment pro­grammes. They have the company’s interests in mind.
  • There’s a conflict of interest here, of course — you might want to do a public speaking course, for example, because you envisage yourself as an effective public speaker. But if your boss doesn’t think that’s part of your job, the chances are, you won’t be doing one.
  • Employers also tend to confuse training and learning. Training gets done to you. Learning is some­thing an indi­vidual does them­selves. Companies tend to think of training as their respons­ib­ility, rather than learning. They also think (62% of them — HROs — do) that “done to” training is the most effective way to deliver edu­ca­tion for the job, according to survey results.
  • Educationalists have iden­ti­fied at least 37 dif­ferent types of ways in which we learn stuff, from reading a book to playing sim­u­la­tions. Each indi­vidual will have their own pre­ferred and most effective learning styles. In-​​house training tends to focus on one — sit in a room with a bunch of other people and get talked at.

Therefore, there’s a big need for change when it comes to pro­fes­sional devel­op­ment. Individuals need to do more to take the ini­ti­ative, since they’re ulti­mately in it for them­selves. Their own pre­ferred learning styles might mean that the current pro­vi­sion their company offers is utterly useless. They’d learn more from reading books, or blogging, or going to excel­lent net­working events. Probably a com­bin­a­tion of dif­ferent learning activ­ities. They should push for those things to be recog­nised as CPD invest­ment, and poten­tially paid for by their employer.

On the other hand, employers need to open up their defin­i­tions of training and learning. Why does only sitting in a room and being talked at tick the box? This doesn’t neces­sarily imply extra invest­ment or resources on their part. Just an openness to recog­nising that learning is taking place in other ways. Companies need to fund and provide time for the learning an indi­vidual wants to under­take — not just the kind that’s always been provided.

To my mind, this situ­ation has arisen as a con­sequence of the dread­ful­ness of appraisal culture:

“Now, Ian, it’s your annual review. You have done OK, but could do better. How can we help you?”

“Well, boss, I agree I could do better. [and really want a pay rise which isn’t at all linked to this appraisal. wink-​​wink.] But you see, I don’t really know much about phone sales.”

“Ah — we’re doing a course in May about phone sales. I’ll send you on that.”

Box ticked. Job done. Next subject. My arse.

(Bonus link to a fab blog post on this very subject from the Chief Happiness Officer — from which I stole the wink-​​wink gag.)

Afterthought: the worst CPD I have ever received was when I worked as a teacher. In many respects, it’s the lone­liest pro­fes­sion — you spend your entire day with clients. Yet, the pro­fes­sional training is zilch — “we’ve bought this new CMS and we’re having a training day on how to use it.” “Yeah, but, how can I be a better teacher?” “Sorry, what?” — How appalling is that?

Well, It made me laugh

Fake Steve Jobs is rather more concise than me:

The Borg-​​Yahoo merger won’t work. Here’s why. It’s like taking the two guys who finished second and third in a 100-​​yard dash and tying their legs together and asking for a rematch, believing that now they’ll run faster.