Fear—the Ultimate Economic Stimulus?

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there’s a slim chance Marilyn Manson was right.

Watching Bowling for Columbine a few years ago, I recall the goth rocker delivered a surprisingly intelligent answer to one of Michael Moore’s questions. Our culture, in his opinion, is built on the following foundation: Keep everyone afraid, and they’ll consume. A motto, no doubt, he’s wisely employed for his own fortune.

I unwittingly tested his theory this past week while knocked out with the flu. A part of me was grateful for a few days of downtime, so I could watch television without interference from male cohabitants. I explored every inch of the spectrum my first day on the couch, visiting old favorites (CNBC), peeking inside scary places (Lifetime), and completely losing myself in others (AMC).

I took particular notice, however, of the commercials. Wow. Even with the power of Tivo, a few still managed to creep in. Security system companies, personal injury attorneys, disinfectant brands, skin-care potions, and weight-loss program proprietors have given me absolute license to fear, to feel victimized, to blame someone else for it, and to spend, spend, spend to make myself feel better. And these weren’t even the political ads. A diaper commercial made me feel unsafe and out of control. I was morphing into the sucker P.T.—and Marilyn—warned us about.

So much of the market continues to bite its nails over consumer spending and the credit crunch: we need to stimulate the economy, right? What will people purchase in a recession? How about a home security system? The odds of some guy taking a morning jog past my house, then suddenly attempting to break in while I’m standing in the doorway, are apparently really good.

After one morning, I switched entirely to DVDs and naps. I can’t decide whether to view this experience as yet another sad commentary on our culture, or a good cue for hot stocks in a down market. But I’m not hopeful for economic stimulus if this is how we’ll continue to sway the public to spend.

...Then you’re watching television, you’re watching the news, you’re being pumped full of fear. There’s floods, there’s AIDS, there’s murder, cut to commercial, buy the Acura, buy the Colgate, if you have bad breath they’re not going to talk to you, if you have pimples, the girl’s not going to #%$! you, and it’s just this campaign of fear, and consumption. — Marilyn Manson, in Bowling for Columbine (2002)

Ill, Ill, and Ill

Sorry folks, I’ve been knocked down since Friday. See you next week.

What’s on the Agenda?

Here’s the deal: Good, smart leaders have agendas. It’s something you can always count on, even if said leader appears scattered or extemporaneous when making decisions. Sometimes these agendas are evident. Sometimes (and for very good reasons), they’re not. And the leader almost always has a trusted circle of reports that challenges her thinking and helps to keep said agendas moving forward.

I happen to work for a really good, smart leader. I’ve been in her trusted circle for more than two years, slogging slowly through one particular after another in order to keep a pretty important agenda on track. Part of that work paid off in spades last week, when a key position was finally approved and posted.

I personally wrote the job description over a year ago. Since then, absent a living, breathing person in the role, I’ve been fulfilling nearly every responsibility of the position, absent the title and check. This in part was done out of necessity, to show the company that we can’t continue to have this work staffed with 20 percent of one person’s time. As I carried this extra load, however, I discovered I was pretty good at it. I built some key relationships, wrote some pretty important positions, and gained a reputation (or notoriety, depending on who you ask) as a subject-matter expert on this agenda. Our leader’s praise and trust in my abilities and performance were rock solid. So when the position was posted, I noted that it was still the same scope of work and responsibility as originally written. So I did what any reasonable, self-assured person would do: I threw my name in the hat.

A week later, I received an automated response from the HR team: “Thank you for your interest in the position of Senior Muckety-Muck, Blah-Blah-Blah. At this time, we will not be moving forward with your application for this position.”

I was speechless. Five minutes later, I was enraged. I thought back to every “sunshine up the tail” message HR pumps out, encouraging us to try new things and explore new paths—and yet I’m not even given consideration for the job I’m already doing? I wrote the bloody description. I’ve been doing the work. I meet every qualification, right down to experience preferences. I’m even getting calls from other people, seeking my advice for how they can win over our leader and score the position for themselves.

I decided to give the job description another look. It was written at a particular moment in time, I thought, and posted over a year later. We had discussed some additional needs that would have changed the position’s direction. So I fired a note to our leader, who was traveling, and asked her to clarify her vision for this role. She sent back a telling message: “I think this job is a stretch for you, but I love your willingness to put yourself ‘out there.’ It serves you well. Let’s talk about this.”

I’m pretty sure she has a new agenda, and I’m still in the circle. So it can’t be that bad. Calm down, lady.

Everybody has an agenda, all right? Everyone. — Chasing Amy (1997)

The Absence of Common Sense

1. If you’re someone who demands justification for the incremental cost to register and protect your small company’s branding. I have word one for you: valuation. Stop asking stupid questions.

2. If you tell a peer that you entirely trust her counsel, then hammer repeatedly that the strategy she recommends is “clown nosed,” you’re not the superstar leader you think you are—you’re a jerk.

3. I’m more convinced than ever that bad businesses must fail in a free market economy—and that pretty much concludes that we don’t live in one.

4. We can’t continue to grow and sustain our businesses or government on antiquated models, thinking, and approaches. What the rest of the world thinks of America matters to business, damn it. And, hey, Michelle: Thinking differently than your neighbors and peers isn’t anti-American.

5. Another stimulus package? Of what?

It’s like you gave your junkie cousin $100 for rent, then you ran into him at the dog track and gave him another $37 billion... I mean, oh, MY GOD… ARE YOU SERIOUS?! —Saturday Night Live, October 2008

Organizational Wheezing

I have no idea what the hell anyone is talking about.

It must be the fear, the uncertainty, the melting stock prices. I have coworkers who spend all day watching the Dow and checking their incredible shrinking 401(k)s. Then, they come late into meetings, spewing gibberish and gross generalities while they run in circles.

I kid not. Today, I spent 20 minutes with a team that insisted on revisiting a decision we buried last week, just to see if it could be resuscitated (or at least kicked some more).

It’s like the gawker slowdown: each driver straining her neck, hoping to catch a shocking glimpse of a bloody mangle. Never mind that she could have seen a mile back that it was just some poor schmuck with a flat tire. Move along, lady.

Yes, the economy has slowed down, and we’re reigning in the expenses. But come on, people. Yes, it’s a big deal, but big deal. We have plans to implement, and I need you to stop asking me how we can afford to execute them now. Last I checked, they didn’t change the sign on the front door to “closed,” did they?

We’re still open for business, for God’s sake. Let’s get back to work.

Its combination of strategic incoherence and operational incompetence has become toxic. —William Kristol, October 13, 2008