Tuesday, November 18, 2008
HC+T Update: November 2008
HC+T Update: November 2008
HC+T Update
November 2008
- AIG’s Executives: A Confederacy Of Dunces
- Nine Tips For Communicating Layoffs
- My New Book Is Out; Downloads Are Available
- How Many Execs Really Leave To Pursue Other Opportunities?
- Moving The Needle Is The Ultimate Measure Of Online Influence
- Technology Is A Slave To Me
- Death Watch
- Site Of The month
- HC+T Update
- Boilerplate and subscription information
Wow—a newsletter one short month after the last one! That shouldn’t be a big deal, since this was originally a monthly newsletter, but given my erratic production for the last year or so, I guess it is worthy of note.
As usual, this issue represents mostly material I’ve written for my blog since the last issue (with the exception of the blatant advertisement in the first item). You can find the blog at http://blog.holtz.com. and don’t forget, you should seriously consider switching from the email subscription to the RSS feed. Just add the following URL to your RSS news reader: http://blog.holtz.com/index.php/update/rss_2.0/.
1. AIG’s Executives: A Confederacy Of Dunces
I have come to the sad conclusion that the people running AIG are idiots. Dolts. Complete and irredeemable morons.
I defended the Southern California retreat for which AIG took so much heat. That event was an incentive for top-performing life insurance salespeople. It was part of the compensation for their contributions and necessary to keep the company’s top performers from defecting to the competition. If anything is going to help AIG get out of its hole and repay the taxpayer bailout it received, it will be top performers selling their asses off. Instead of criticizing the event, I suggested AIG should have foreseen how the retreat would be perceived and been proactive in communicating what the event was, who it was for, and why it was an investment in future sales.
Today, it has been revealed that AIG held another event at a posh Arizona resort. The rationale for the event makes perfect sense. AIG’s CEO Edward Liddy explained the rationale after the event was exposed by local TV news reporter Josh Bernstein. Exposed because AIG made every effort to keep the event a secret.
Brilliant planning there, Fast Eddie. Like nobody’s paying careful attention to every minuscule move your company makes. (News flash, Ed: You’re under the world’s biggest freaking microscope.)
I can just imagine the conversation among the reality-challenged executives who made this monumentally stupid decision:
Executive #1: We need to train the independent, non-employee financial planners who recommend our products to their clients. The more knowledgable these planners are about our products, the more inclined they’ll be to recommend them, and to the right clients. We rely on these guys for sales; the training is a necessary investment in those sales.
Executive #2: Well, yeah, all the companies in our line of business do this as a matter of routine. But we have a problem most of our competitors don’t have. The public couldn’t possibly understand this and, because of that bailout thing, if they see us sponsoring an event like this, they’ll crucify us.
Executive #3: Why don’t we just host the event at some Ramada Inn in East Bumcrap, and instead of sending our top execs for the planners to meet, we’ll send mid-level sales support staff?
Executive #2: Are you nuts? What financial planner would invest his own money and time to come to a meeting in a Ramada Inn in East Bumcrap? We’ll end up with three has-been B-list football players who got mail-order degrees in financial planning. We need to train 150 of the best, most sought-after financial planners in the country if we’re going to produce the kind of sales we need.
Executive #1: He’s right, you know. These guys are high-powered players. They only turn out for top-drawer events. And they expect to hobnob with the top brass.
Executive #3: Hey, I have an idea. We’ll do it in secret. We’ll make sure the hotel staff is in on it, we’ll come up with a fake company name and a fake logo. It’ll be cool, just like an undercover operation. I’ll be Jack Bauer. You can be James Bond.
Executive #1: I love this plan. But I wanna be Jack Bauer.
After his company was caught—hidden camera and all—Liddy went public and made a number of points:
- Most of the tab was picked up by sponsors and participants (the company even released a list of the partners who covered the costs)
- The company has canceled some 160 planned events; the ones kept on the company’s calendars were deemed mission-critical (like training independent planners to sell your products so you can make a ton of money and repay your debt)
- The fancy hotel rooms in which AIG execs stayed were comped by the hotel as part of the total $360,000 package (90% of which, remember, was paid for by partners and participants)
Anybody who has spent time in business recognizes these as legitimate points. But it’s hard to convince anybody you’re telling the truth after you’ve been caught in a cover-up. Footage shown by the Phoenix ABC-TV affiliate included the KNXV reporter confronting a couple AIG execs as they hurried, tight-lipped, onto their flight.
After a performance like that—along with other damning footage on top of the revelation that AIG tried to pull this off covertly—few are inclined to believe a word Liddy says. His quote—“We appreciate what the taxpayer and the federal government has done for us…We intend to pay back every penny we’ve borrowed”—rings especially hollow after being caught in a premeditated, willful effort to deceive. Sure, Liddy did the right thing by appearing on CNN’s Larry King to personally address the charges, and a press release was issued defending the event. But it was way too little, way, way too late.
So now AIG has federal legislators calling for Liddy’s head on a platter and taxpayers itching to form a lynch mob, pitchforks and torches at the ready. All of which could have been avoided if AIG had just been transparent. Rather than assume the public is too stupid to understand its business, AIG should have explained up front the realities of the financial services market, how companies like AIG rely on independent agents to sell their products, how training these agents is what generates sales, and how these sessions need to be upscale or the agents won’t come and your product won’t sell. Maybe a lot of people wouldn’t have liked it, but AIG would be in a lot less trouble than they are now.
If this is the kind of leadership Liddy has to offer, maybe he should resign. But unless AIG’s top PR counselor (I have to assume this is Communications Senior Vice President Nicholas J. Ashooh) advised against this fiasco and was overruled, he definitely needs to go. (Besides, any PR counselor with an ounce of ethics would have resigned before engaging in such an ill-advised cover-up.)
AIG’s predicament should serve as an object lesson for executives at other companies who may still believe that opacity is a viable business strategy in today’s environment.
2. Nine Tips For Communicating Layoffs
All the job cutback news from the last several weeks, culminating in American Express’s announcement that it will cut 10% of its workforce—7,000 jobs—has me thinking about communicating layoffs. Sadly, it’s a chore I’ve had to perform several times in my career.
My worst experience—which was also my first—goes back a long time ago in a Fortune 500 company far, far away. (Well…Los Angeles.) As the internal communications manager, I learned of a 10% reduction in headquarters staff about 48 hours before the ax would fall. I lobbied for some kind of communication to employees, which wasn’t part of the plan because the president unrealistically hoped to keep news of the layoff out of the media. The best we were able to do was desk-to-desk distribution of a letter under the president’s signature; the letter would be waiting for employees as they arrived on the day of the layoff. (Email wouldn’t be an alternative for another five or six years.)
Of course, one of the affected employees sent the letter to the local daily; it was the lead headline in the business section the next morning. Infuriated, the president stormed into my office and slammed the newspaper on my desk. “I told you this would get into the press,” he fumed.
True, I said, but because they reported on the layoff based on our perspective as outlined in the letter, our message infused the story. Had there been no letter, the employee would have called and the story would have been presented from the distressed employee’s point of view. He accepted that and went sulking back to the C-suite. But the worst fallout came months later at am IABC chapter meeting when I was sitting next to the guest speaker, the regional bureau chief for the Wall Street Journal. He saw my name and company on my name tag, and told me, “The next time you want something from the Journal, you can go f**k yourself.” Stunned, I asked what had brought this on. “The Wall Street Journal,” he said, “does not appreciate being scooped by a small local daily.”
Today, given the glass houses in which businesses exist, it’s even dicier than it was back in those pre-Internet days. I recall the story earlier this year of a laid-off Yahoo employee who Twittered his termination. Emerging from a layoff as a healthy organization with a focused workforce is more challenging than ever.
Having been through at least half a dozen layoffs since then, I’ve learned a lot about layoff communications. Here’s a rundown of some of the most important considerations:
Involve company communicators in layoff planning. Too many companies view communicators as the hired guns brought in to clean up the town after the mess has been made. Communications counsel at the earliest stages of planning can be invaluable. I worked at one company where performance was not a factor in determining which employees would be cut. Instead, the decision was based on the amount of time spent on defined tasks and the value attributed to each task. The survivors, then, were left with the knowledge that strong performance wouldn’t count the next time cuts were needed. Productivity plummeted and paralysis set in. Sound communications counsel would have identified how employees would react to the message, leading to an alternate approach.
Communicate clearly to all interested stakeholders. Distinct audiences exist within the employee population: Those affected, those remaining (addressed in more detail below), and supervisors. Communicate through your usual media channels. Get in touch with the analysts covering the company. And if you’re really smart, you’ll reach out to activists targeting your company to give them a candid explanation, blunting the criticism they’re inclined to levy against you.
Be human. The most beloved and effective generals in the military felt the loss of each casualty suffered under their command. Leaders acknowledge the human toll, whether that’s counted in lives lost on a battlefield or jobs lost in a tough economy. The rise of social media has magnified the importance of authenticity, so be authentic. Explain how employees’ welfare was a factor in the decision-making process and outline what’s being done for those who are leaving.
Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep. Don’t tell employees this round of cuts will be all that’s needed if there’s the remotest possibility of doing it again one or two quarters down the road. Also, don’t be specific if you can’t be. If you promise that the layoffs will be over on November 15 but pinks slips are handed out for three days after that, employees will never believe you again.
Focus on the survivors. It’s easy to gloss over the employees left behind while lamenting the loss of those who have gone. After all, they still have jobs. But the victims are gone; it’s the remaining employees you’re counting on to drive the business forward. If they’re paralyzed in the aftermath of the layoff, everything from productivity and innovation to engagement will take a hit. One concern all layoff survivors share is the expectation that they’ll shoulder the work that had been done by those have have left in addition to their existing responsibilities. Explain honestly how the slack will be taken up and what kind of sacrifices will be expected.
Articulate the end state of the process. The fastest way to move beyond a layoff is to treat it as a change process—which is exactly what it is. Employees need to know what the payoff will be for suffering through all this misery. What will the company look like if it’s successful? This vision needs to be expressed at the highest levels of the organization for the big picture, right down to the team level for the impact on individual employees.
Pay special attention to top performers. Your top performers, the indispensable assets to the organization, are also the ones who have the least trouble securing other employment, no matter how bad the economy may be. Odds are they were getting calls from headhunters before the job cuts. If things get too grim, they’ll bolt.
Don’t spin it. Layoffs are ugly, unpleasant, and emotional. To pretend otherwise is disingenuous. The best you can do is minimize the pain. Call it what it is—it’s a layoff, not a RIF or an exercise in “rightsizing.” (I hate “rightsizing.” If you didn’t need all those extra people, why’d you hire them in the first place?)
Be transparent. If you know the conditions that could derail your recovery plans, share them with employees so there are no surprises. Share the process that led to the layoff decision, the alternatives that were explored, and why those alternatives were dismissed.
What lessons have you learned from your experiences commicating layoffs?
3. My New Book Is Out; Downloads Are Available
My new book, co-authored with John C. Havens, is now available. The title: “Tactical Transparency: How Leaders Can Leverage Social Media To Maximize Value and Build Their Brand.” (Don’t you love these business titles?)
For the next month or so, you can visit a special site—http://www.ttoffer.com—and enter your online order receipt number and get access to a variety of downloads as well as a free subscription to Fast Company magazine (the subscription offer is available in the U.S. only; sorry about that). Among the downloads available are sample chapters from new books by Roger D’Aprix and Mike Robbins, an e-book by Chris Brogan on personal branding, Jason Van Orden’s e-magnet series, a Forrester report on staffing for social computing by Jeremiah Owyang, and more.
4. How Many Execs Really Leave To Pursue Other Opportunities?
At one of the Fortune 500 companies where I directed corporate communications, many years ago, a reorganization consolidated some of the company’s business units. In a game of executive musical chairs, one high-ranking exec was left without a job.
The press release the company issued used the typical jargon claiming that the poor fellow was leaving the company “to pursue other opportunities.” I suppose that was true. The interesting he was leaving to pursue was finding a job after being dumped from the organization.
Journalists are wise to this kind of euphemism. A night copy editor at one of the dailies covering the company ran the story under the headline, “So long, pal.” The clueless leaders of this company—my bosses—reacted to the headline by insisting that I call the lead business reporter who covered the company and inform him that we weren’t going to deal with him any longer.
The headline may have been snarky, but the “pursuing other opportunities” phrase, along with the lack of any substantive information at all, invited that snarkiness. Of course, the reason companies resort to such vague, non-communicative lingo is that the separation agreement reached with the departing executive insists on it, presumably because they don’t want anybody to learn the truth of the matter. I’ve often wondered how people can rise to such lofty positions in big companies with such thin skins.
This experience leapt to mind as I read a post by PR luminary Jim Horton about a similar announcement from iRobot announcing that its co-founder, Helen Greiner, had resigned as the company’s chairman to be replaced by her fellow co-founder Colin Aigle, who was serving as CEO.
The most Greiner or iRobot have had to say about the reason for the former chairman’s departure is that it was a mutual decision. This, according to the C|Net report, has fueled speculation about what really happened, suggesting that Greiner’s departure was not entirely voluntary. This will come as no surprise to people working in corporate communications who know that, in the absence of authoritative information, second-tier sources and gossip-mongers will rush in to fill the void. Information abhors a vacuum.
As Horton notes, it is the lack of transparency that sparked the rumor. “Wouldn’t it be better just to say that X left because she had a disagreement with the board, or she is tired and wants to move on, or she has another opportunity she wishes to pursue? That, at least, provides a context for stakeholders,” he says, adding, “Silence speaks louder than words.”
The next time an executive leaves your company’s ranks, consider the novel approach of just truthfully telling what happened. It may cause some discomfort, but that’s better than inaccurate speculation affecting perceptions of the organization.
5. Moving The Needle Is The Ultimate Measure Of Online Influence
What is influence?
I’ve been mulling over this question since reading Steve Rubel’s post asserting the Google Page Rank is the ultimate measure of online influence. I drr Steve’s point, particularly when comparing Google Page Rank to other metrics that draw on server-based data.
Like Technorati’s authority rankings, your Google Page Rank improves the more people link to you. There’s a nuts-and-bolts problem with this as a measure of influence: You don’t know why people are linking to you. Sure, you hope they’re directing their own readers to what they consider to be high-quality content. In any given case, though, it’s also possible that they’re linking to you while telling their readers, “You won’t believe what this idiot has written now.” I frequently follow links deliberately directing me to examples of bad content.
Another problem with page rank is the ease with which the unscrupulous can game the system. Not too long ago, I started moderating comments to this blog so I could reject Akismet-proof comment spam that includes a link designed to boost a site’s Google Page Rank.
But these technical issues aren’t at the core of my discomfort with Page Rank as a measure of influence. It’s the definition of influence, which has nothing to do with your popularity. Influence happens when you cause something to happen. Page Rank is an outcome of your efforts, the social media equivalent of counting the number of newspapers that pick up your press release. Influence occurs when you produce outcomes, not outputs.
Katie Paine, in her excellent book, “Measuring Public Relationships,” defines outcomes as “quantifiable changes in attitudes, behaviors, or opinions that occur as end results of a PR program.” It’s a definition I agree with. The highest possible Google Page Rank cannot determine whether your site has produced such a quantifiable change. That’s what influence is—the ability to alter someone’s attitudes, behaviors, or opinions.
Measuring your ouputs—along with outtakes (the perceptions or understanding created by your work)—is important, but it’s a communication goal, not a business goal; you measure it to determine how effective your tactics have been at meeting the business goal. Ultimately, companies have business goals in mind when they employ PR.
Unfortunately, the ultimate measure of online influence isn’t accessible from any of the online metrics or analytics available. You can’t plug a URL into a search field and produce the answer. There are three basic ways to assess your influence online:
- Read and analyze what people are saying about you to determine whether attitudes or opinions have changed as a result of your online efforts
- Apply some kind of survey mechanism to ask people whether your content drove some kind of change in the people who consumed it
- If a direct link can be made, measure the impact of your content on the business goal; for example, where the goal is to get people to sign up for an online service, you could show that a blogger outreach effort produced a measurable increase in signups
The difference between Page Rank and these three approaches should be pretty clear when you look at what you report to your client. Which would you rather say?
Option #1: Sixty-seven percent of the people who read your blog were more likely to do business with than they were before they started reading it, and 28% said they’ve already done business with you because of the thought leadership you’ve established on the blog. That’s significant, given that our online efforts have generated a Google Page Rank of 7, which means a lot of people are linking to the blog, dramatically boosting the number of customers and prospective customers.
Option #2: We’ve generated a Google Page Rank of 7. That means a lot of people are linking to the site. Isn’t that awesome?
If we’re not working to achieve our clients’ or employers’ business objectives, there’s no reason for our clients or employers to pay us. If that’s not what we’re measuring, we’re not demonstrating the value of our work. Yes, assess your Page Rank. But for goodness’ sake, don’t stop there.
6. Technology Is A Slave To Me
I’ve been thinking about three deals I’ve closed over the last week or so. I arranged a media interview for a client. I arranged a speaking gig. And I got a consulting assignment.
All three deals were done entirely by email, with no phone calls.
The fact that email served as the communication channel for these deals normally wouldn’t have entered my mind, but I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to a recent post by Jeremy Pepper titled “Slave to Technology” in which he exhorted PR professionals to put down their email, IM, and other technology-based communication tools and return to the phone.
There’s no question that some people become overly-dependent on technology, a phenomenon that’s not limited to PR practitioners. I hear way too many stories about people who have been laid off by email, which provides those uncomfortable in confrontational situations with a means of doing what’s required of them without looking into the eyes of the target of their actions. People need to know when to use each tool based on what it’s good at, and the importance of face-to-face should never been underestimated.
But I just can’t agree with Jeremy when he suggests that deals get done on the phone and not by email. It’s just not true. Nor can I agree with Jeremy when he suggests that we should simply force ourselves to stop using technology altogether for some period of time (like one day a week). Sorry, but if a reporter calls to let me know he’s tied up in traffic and will be 10 minutes late to lunch, I’m not going to resist checking email just because I’ve bought into some insipid “no email day” concept.
Besides, we easily forget that the phone is technology, too.
Several years ago, a colleague who worked for Exxon (now retired) sent me a PDF of a page from a 1930s edition of Humble Oil’s salesforce publication, “The Lubricator.” (No jokes, please, this is serious.) The article addressed the introduction of telephones to Humble’s workplace. It offered tips on how far from the mouth to hold the mouthpiece and what to say when answering the phone. It explained why the company was placing only one phone in each department rather than providing one to every employee (people will talk on the phone instead of getting their work done). But the bit that jumped out at me instructed employees that the telephone was not a replacement for the accepted tool for communication: the letter.
The article conveyed management’s fear that the phone would encourage employees to procrastinate until the last minute, not write the business letter, then just pick up the phone instead, a practice the company found unacceptable. Writing the letter was the way things got done and the phone was, well, technology.
So, Jeremy. If you’d been blogging in 1932, would you have told people to put down the phone and pointed them to that typewriter thingy on their desks?
The letter has gone the way of the dinosaur; the U.S. mail is now made up almost entirely of bills, packages, and direct mail marketing pieces. Letter-writing—once the primary means of conducting business—has given way to the email. Not the phone, mind you—plenty of letters were being delivered by mail over the decades during which the phone has been a standard tool. But the phone is a real-time tool (annoying political recordings left as voice mail notwithstanding). Email is asynchronous, one of its greatest strengths.
Is it, then, a stretch to suggest that newer technologies have superceded the use of an older technology, that phone thingy on your desk (as Jeremy put it)?
(Note: This isn’t an attack on Jeremy, whom I like, respect, and admire and almost always agree with. If you’re not reading his blog, you should. I was motivated to write this counterpoint only because so many people commented, “Right on, Jeremy” that I wanted to offer the flip side of the argument.)
To be sure, there is value in a phone call. Your voice conveys sincerity and warmth that is far more difficult to communicate with text. (How many times has an innocent joke in an email been misinterpreted, causing grief for both sender and recipient?) It’s easy to digress into off-topic conversation that can build closer bonds.
But if each tool is used based on its strengths, then it becomes a matter of thoughtful integration of all the tools, not an artificial abandonment of a tool that has become a vital part of a PR practitioner’s communication mix.
I also wondered if, as Jeremy also asserts, PR people have, in fact, abandoned the phone. Jeremy wrote in response to my query that a stroll into just about any agency is greeted by silence instead of the chatter of practitioners on the phone with journalists. That’s not my experience in several agencies I visit when I visit agencies, and I get calls from agency reps almost daily, pitching me on one story or another. But I decided to ask PR people, via Twitter, how much they rely on the phone. It’s certainly not scientific, but out of 23 replies I received, only a few dismissed the phone as a critical tool:
I see two results from this quick-and-dirty poll. Most PR people are using the phone and those who aren’t seem to be achieving results anyway (that is, closing deals). You have to wonder how long they’d keep their jobs if they weren’t. Instead, I have no doubt that they are closing deals and achieving other vital goals. They’ve just found that the phone maybe isn’t always the best tool for closing those deals and achieving their goals. One thing connected each of the three deals I closed by email: I knew the people I was dealing with. I had relationships with them. We could communicate by email easily based on that relationship, rather than play the voice-mail-phone-tag game. It’s also important to consider how the people you’re contacting (reporters, bloggers, whatever) want to be contacted. Contrary to Jeremy’s assertion that you need to use the phone, there are a lot of reporters out there who’d rather you didn’t. Consider the following passage from “Care and Feeding of the Press,” an online document from the Internet Press Guild:
- the phone is my worst enemy…I <3 email and texts…fast and I can respond when I have the time; phone is too intrusive
- I rarely use others in favor of in-person mtgs, IM. IM’s the channel of choice - we’re always connected. e-Mail is a relic.
- mostly EM, IM, Twitter, FB—even email is dying off; phone calls are mostly sales calls
- Absolutely. Hate phone calls. Love e-mail/IM. It’s quick, easy, and people actually stop to think before communicating. Win, win, win.
- I don’t use my phone that much. Seems I can get lots done and get to the point in email conversations best.
Don’t call. Really. You should not call us to find out if we received your press release. We realize that follow-ups are part of many PR organizations’ normal operating procedure, but in many cases it’s more likely to create resentment. It is appropriate to follow up on requested information, such as a sent press kit or product, but not on a blind mailing. If we’re interested, you’ll hear from us. If we’ve already established an ongoing relationship because I’ve covered your products earlier, it’s okay to send a follow-up e-mail a few days later to ask if I have any questions; but that’s it. Now, I know this next point goes against a lot of your training; but take our word for it: Nothing sets a writer or editor’s teeth on edge more than an eager young voice saying, “I’m calling to see if you got the press release we sent.” (It is, alas, common practice to have follow-up calls made by the most junior [read: clueless] members of an agency.) When we’re in the middle of a tight deadline, the last thing we want is a phone call that contains no new or useful information whatsoever. Thus, by making such calls, you’re harming both clients’ and your own reputations. If you actually have something substantive to add, such as pointing out an error in a press release, that’s another story; but you’re still better off sending us an e-mail about it than calling us.What? How can it be that a reporter tells us, “You’re…better off sending us an email…than calling us?” if the only way to achieve results is on the phone? Simple. The phone is not necessarily the best way to achieve results, meet a reporter’s needs, or close a deal. The best tool is, well, the best tool at the time and under the circumstances. Ultimately, most of us aren’t slaves to technology. Technology is a slave to our needs. 7. Death Watch Last Thursday, blogging’s father Dave Winer suggested that online advertising is dead. “Assuming the economy comes back from the recession-depression thing that it’s in now,” Dave writes, “when it does, we will have completely moved on from advertising.” That’s a scary thought for all those online properties whose business models revolve around online advertising. Think Facebook, MySpace, blog networks like Gawker, and a little company you may have heard of called Google. I’ve caught no wind of Google scrambling to identify a new business model. That is, no doubt, because online advertising isn’t dead. It is, however, just one of the many targets of such proclamations, many of which crop up every so often when somebody revisits the meme. According to the oh-so-prescient pundits among us…
- PR is dead (killed by social media)
- Blogs are dead (replaced by Twitter and other channels)
- Press releases are dead (replaced by blogs—but wait, aren’t blogs dead?)
- Journalism is dead (replaced by user-generated content)
- Encyclopedias are dead (replaced by Wikipedia)
- Newspapers are dead (replaced by citizen journalism and, um, online newspapers)
- Print is dead (people will page through the paintings of Michelangelo on their laptops instead of high-quality coffee table books)
- Terrestrial radio is dead (whew! I won’t have to listen to any more Raiders debacles in my car)
- Anything not digital is dead (replaced by, well, everything digital)
- Microsoft Office is dead (everyone’s switching to SaaS and OpenOffice)
- I’m helping a state hospital association employ social media as a means of mobilizing its supporters to advocate for increasing funding for emergency rooms.
- I’m conducting an online workshop tomorrow on how to profit from social network marketing. Details are at http://www.whatsworkingnow.net/
- I’m working on an internal communication audit for a major Canadian retailer