From iPod and BlackBerry to Twitter and Wikipedia, we take a look at the processes and people who came up with the names for these iconic tech products.

Coming up with a great technology product or service is only half the battle these days. Creating a name for said product that is at once cool but not too cool or exclusionary, marketable to both early adopters and a broader audience, and, of course, isn’t already in use and protected by various trademarks and copyright laws is difficult—to say the least.

The makers of these 10 tech products—the iPod, BlackBerry, Firefox, Twitter, Windows 7, ThinkPad, Android, Wikipedia, Mac OS X and the “Big Cats,” and Red Hat Linux—all have displayed certain amounts marketing savvy, common sense and fun-loving spirit in settling on their products’ names. Here are the intriguing, surprising and sometimes predictable accounts of their creation.

[Check out the Slideshow on CIO.com]

Twitter is the canary in the coal mine of public opinion — for celebrities, politicians, and, of course, corporations. When European discount carrier Ryanair lashed out at “lunatic bloggers” after a Web designer reported a glitch on the airline’s site, its online reputation dipped as low as its fares. Conversely, Mars got a sweet treat when it posted Skittles-related tweets on its Web site, learning immediately how people felt about the candy.

Twitter’s explosion from microblogging curiosity to mass-media phenomenon [0] has awakened a lot of companies to just how fast memes spread on the Internet today. Make a mistake like Ryanair’s — or Johnson & Johnson’s offensive Motrin ads last winter — and the response is brutal. Get it right like shoe retailer Zappos and bask in the love. How can you know if your canary is singing or dead? These tools will help you monitor not just Twitter but everywhere the online conversation involves your brand.

TweetDeck [1]. To follow the raging tweetstream, you need a dashboard. This free download splits your Twitter feed into subgroups, letting you follow shout-outs (@replies) in one window and specific searches in other views. For instance, Pepsi could follow Mountain Dew, Gatorade, Tropicana, and Frito-Lay in four different search fields, receiving instant feedback on announcements and ad campaigns.

Scout Labs [2]. Need to monitor feedback on your new product? Scout Labs reads blog posts and social-networking comments from around the globe and judges them by their words and tone. The sentence “I love Amazon but the Kindle 2 is disappointing” gets properly parsed as a positive comment for Amazon but a negative one for its e-reader. This ultra-targeted approach allows clients such as Charles Schwab, HP, and Netflix to follow comments in real time and react quickly. Pricing starts at $99 a month for five searches.

BlogPulse [3]. This free feature from Nielsen Online searches the blogosphere for what’s happening with your brands. Type in a few keywords and track the number of mentions over the past six months, and view them in a handy fever chart. You can also trace the roots of a Web conversation and learn more about key Web influencers.

Vanno [4]. It’s Digg for reputation. Readers vote on news stories, opinion, and gossip about more than 5,800 companies, and Vanno mashes it up into a numerical score. The free site tracks these companies based on 25 topics, including job satisfaction, customer service, and social responsibility. At press time, Cisco was No. 1.

CoTweet [5]. This free service (currently in limited beta) allows multiple people to tweet from the same user name, using software to replicate the success of Zappos’s hundreds of staff bloggers, including CEO Tony Hsieh, within one account. Employees can delegate tasks, track conversations, schedule posts, and best of all, identify the people behind the brand.

TNS Cymfony [6]. If you need a more heavyweight tool (starting at $40,000 a year), TNS Cymfony goes beyond simple keyword analysis across the Web and analyzes grammar. It also includes crisis PR solutions that track key bloggers, journalists, and consumers. (Nielsen Online’s Buzzmetrics [7] service offers similar features.) During the past Super Bowl, TNS Cymfony reported that the teaser for the anticipated summer hit Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen earned seven times the buzz of the average ad during the big game.

Use these seven tools and you won’t have to worry about revenge; your brand will be transformed into an agile, respected member of the Web’s social swirl.

For marketers, Web 2.0 offers a remarkable new opportunity to engage consumers.

If only they knew how to do it.

That’s where this article aims to help. We interviewed more than 30 executives and managers in both large and small organizations that are at the forefront of experimenting with Web 2.0 tools. From those conversations and further research, we identified a set of emerging principles for marketing.

But first, a more basic question: What is Web 2.0, anyway? Essentially, it encompasses the set of tools that allow people to build social and business connections, share information and collaborate on projects online. That includes blogs, wikis, social-networking sites and other online communities, and virtual worlds.

Millions of people have become familiar with these tools through sites like Facebook, Wikipedia and Second Life, or by writing their own blogs. And a growing number of marketers are using Web 2.0 tools to collaborate with consumers on product development, service enhancement and promotion. But most companies still don’t appear to be well versed in this area.

So here’s a look at the principles we arrived at — and how marketers can use them to get the best results.

Web 2.0 tools can be used to do what traditional advertising does: persuade consumers to buy a company’s products or services. An executive can write a blog, for instance, that regularly talks up the company’s goods. But that kind of approach misses the point of 2.0. Instead, companies should use these tools to get the consumers involved, inviting them to participate in marketing-related activities from product development to feedback to customer service.

How can you do that? A leading greeting-card and gift company that we spoke with is one of many that have set up an online community — a site where it can talk to consumers and the consumers can talk to each other. The company solicits opinions on various aspects of greeting-card design and on ideas for gifts and their pricing. It also asks the consumers to talk about their lifestyles and even upload photos of themselves, so that it can better understand its market.

A marketing manager at the company says that, as a way to obtain consumer feedback and ideas for product development, the online community is much faster and cheaper than the traditional focus groups and surveys used in the past. The conversations consumers have with each other, he adds, result in “some of the most interesting insights,” including gift ideas for specific occasions, such as a college graduation, and the prices consumers are willing to pay for different gifts.

Similarly, a large technology company uses several Web 2.0 tools to improve collaboration with both its business partners and consumers. Among other things, company employees have created wikis — Web sites that allow users to add, delete and edit content — to list answers to frequently asked questions about each product, and consumers have added significant contributions. For instance, within days of the release of a new piece of software by the company, consumers spotted a problem with it and posted a way for users to deal with it. They later proposed a way to fix the problem, which the company adopted. Having those solutions available so quickly showed customers that the company was on top of problems with its products.

Give consumers a reason to participate.

Consumers have to have some incentive to share their thoughts, opinions and experiences on a company Web site.

One lure is to make sure consumers can use the online community to network among themselves on topics of their own choosing. That way the site isn’t all about the company, it’s also about them. For instance, a toy company that created a community of hundreds of mothers to solicit their opinions and ideas on toys also enables them to write their own blogs on the site, a feature that many use to discuss family issues.

Other companies provide more-direct incentives: cash rewards or products, some of which are available only to members of the online community. Still others offer consumers peer recognition by awarding points each time they post comments, answer questions or contribute to a wiki entry. Such recognition not only encourages participation, but also has the benefit of allowing both the company and the other members of the community to identify experts on various topics.

Many companies told us that a moderator plays a critical role in keeping conversations going, highlighting information that’s important to a discussion and maintaining order. That’s important because consumers are likely to drift away if conversations peter out or if they feel that their voices are lost in a chaotic flood of comments. The moderator can also see to it that consumer input is seen and responded to by the right people within the company.

And, of course, it’s important to make a site as easy to use as possible. For instance, there should be clear, simple instructions for consumers to set up a blog or contribute to a wiki.

Listen to — and join — the conversation outside your site.

Consumers tend to trust one another’s opinions more than a company’s marketing pitch. And there is no shortage of opinions online.

The managers we interviewed accept that this type of content is here to stay and are aware of its potential impact — positive or negative — on consumers’ buying decisions. So they monitor relevant online conversations among consumers and, when appropriate, look for opportunities to inject themselves into a conversation or initiate a potential collaboration.

For example, a marketing manager of a leading consumer-electronics company monitors blogs immediately after a new-product launch in order to understand “how customers are actually reacting to the product.” Other managers keep an eye on sites like Digg.com and Del.icio.us that track the most popular topics on the Web, to see if there’s any buzz around their new products, and whether they should be adjusting, say, features or prices.

In one case, a company found a popular blogger who had spoken highly of the company’s brand. Just prior to launching a new product, the company sent the blogger a free sample, inviting him to review it with no strings attached. The end result: The blogger wrote a favorable review and generated a flood of comments. So the company got nearly free publicity and feedback.

Peter & Maria Hoey

Resist the temptation to sell, sell, sell.

Many marketers have been trained to bludgeon consumers with advertising — to sell, sell, sell anytime and anywhere consumers can be found. In an online community, it pays to resist that temptation.

When consumers are invited to participate in online communities, they expect marketers to listen and to consider their ideas. They don’t want to feel like they’re simply a captive audience for advertising, and if they do they’re likely to abandon the community.

The head of consumer research for a leading consumer-electronics organization created an online community of nearly 50,000 consumers to discuss product-development and marketing issues. One of the key principles of the community, she says, was “not to do anything about marketing, because we weren’t about selling; we were about conversing.”

In short order, community members not only identified what it was they were looking for in the company’s products, but also suggested innovations to satisfy those needs. The company quickly developed prototypes based on those suggestions, and got an enthusiastic response: Community members asked when they would be able to buy the products and if they would get the first opportunity to buy them. They didn’t have to be sold on anything.

Don’t control, let it go.

In an online community, every company needs to find an effective balance between trying to steer the conversation about its products and allowing the conversation to flow freely. In general, though, the managers we interviewed believe that companies are better off giving consumers the opportunity to say whatever is on their minds, positive or negative. Moderators can keep things running smoothly and coherently, but they shouldn’t always keep the conversation on a predetermined track. The more that consumers talk freely, the more a company can learn about how it can improve its products and its marketing.

One marketing executive recalled the first time she let an online community created for a client interact with very little control or moderation, resulting in an animated discussion about the look of the company’s product. The client, with great concern, asked. “Who told them [the consumers] they could do this, that they could go this far?” Of course, when this process resulted in totally new packaging that helped boost sales, the client was ecstatic.

As another executive of a company that creates online communities for clients told us: “You have to let the members drive. When community members feel controlled, told how to respond and how to act, the community shuts down.”

Find a ‘marketing technopologist.’

So who should direct a company’s forays into Web 2.0 marketing? A number of managers identified an ideal set of skills for an executive that go beyond those of a typical M.B.A. holder or tech expert. We coined the term marketing technopologist for a person who brings together strengths in marketing, technology and social interaction. A manager said, “I’d want to see someone with the usual M.B.A. consultant’s background, strong interest in psychology and sociology, and good social-networking skills throughout the organization.”

Foot soldiers need to be carefully selected as well. One large technology company weighs employees’ proven skills to choose writers for blogs that are read by consumers. The company has long used blogs internally to help employees discuss technical issues, products, and company and industry topics. When it decided to use blogs to raise its profile online, it recruited those who had shown the most skill at blogging within the company. The company currently has about 15 employees who blog publicly, mostly on technology trends, and is recruiting more the same way. Meanwhile, the bloggers plan to meet occasionally to share the lessons learned from their experiences.

Embrace experimentation.

One Web 2.0 strategy does not fit all, and sometimes the best way to find out what’s best for a given company is to try some things out and see what happens.

Blogs, wikis and online communities are among the tools that companies are most commonly using for marketing, but there are other ways to reach consumers. Some of the companies we talked with have gotten their feet wet in the online virtual world Second Life, where millions of users interact with each other through avatars. Companies can sell their goods and services and sponsor events in Second Life just as they do in the real world; one sponsored a contest for the best avatar.

Others are considering new ways to use more-familiar tools. For instance, many companies have long used instant messaging on their Web sites to allow shoppers to chat with customer-service representatives. One executive we spoke with said he would like to experiment with allowing consumers to chat with each other as they shop on his company’s site.

[via WSJ Small Business] By SALVATORE PARISE , PATRICIA J. GUINAN and BRUCE D. WEINBERG

For the above entrepreneurs, wearing pajamas for a day at the office isn’t far from reality. From pet care to virtual assistants and even online dating, we found entrepreneurs who are not just enjoying work from their living rooms and bedrooms, but they are also making a good living at it. In one case, a business owner grossed $10 million in a year, and cleared half that amount. Here’s a look at the hottest industries for home-based entrepreneurs — illustrated with some fun CEO self-portraits.

Pet Care — Paul Mann, Fetch! Pet Care

Virtual Assistant — Tawnya Sutherland, VAnetworking.com

Bargain Hunting Website — Karen Hoxmeier, MyBargainBuddy.com

Accounting Services — Melissa Nash Andrews, Accounts Receivables

Technical Staffing — Bill Foster and Ruben Santana, XRoads Consulting

Home Improvement and Organization — Allan Young, ShelfGenie

Green Construction — Nic Darling, Chad Ludeman, and Courtney Ludeman, Postgreen

Graphic Design Services — Sam Feuer, Mindsmack.com

Resume Writing — Kathy Sweeney, The Write Resume

Corporate Educational Services — Joseph Pickett, Experts Briefings

Online Dating Site — Markus Frind, PlentyofFish

In November, not two weeks after winning the election and still two months from becoming commander in chief, Barack Obama brought the government into the 21st century. Or at least that was what we were told when he released his first Web video address as president-elect. The clip, billed by some as a modern fireside chat, was embedded as a YouTube video on Change.gov, the incoming administration’s Web site. Sitting in a leather chair, framed slightly off center from his chest up, Obama delivered a three-minute talk on the economic crisis, vlog style.

The video quickly racked up hundreds of thousands of views, and within a few days hundreds of blogs were linking to it. Obama’s foray into viral video, the story went, heralded the beginning of a new era in government communication and transparency—”Franklin Roosevelt 2.0,” in the words of The Huffington Post. The Washington Post proclaimed the advent of the “YouTube presidency.”

1 million:
The number of views received by Obama’s first YouTube address as president-elect.

It wasn’t long, however, before savvy observers noted what was missing from this and other Obama videos: the chance for ordinary citizens to talk back. The campaign initially disabled the comment function on YouTube and prevented response videos from appearing alongside. A YouTube video without comments, some pundits groused, is more like a monologue than a chat, fireside or not. “I don’t see how one-way messages provide any more transparency for the work of the White House or government than the current old-style radio addresses,” blogged Ellen Miller, director of the Sunlight Foundation, a government-transparency watchdog group. “Is Obama ready,” challenged TechCrunch, “to be a two-way president?”

Of course, Obama’s transition team had good reasons for disabling responses. For starters, YouTube comments are typically the intellectual equivalent of truck-stop graffiti. (When the team belatedly allowed comments a couple of weeks later, the site was flooded with insights like “USA susks.”) Also, his team would have zero control over the potentially critical or embarrassing response videos that users would post next to the address. The real reason, however, was that Obama wasn’t actually trying to have a conversation with Americans via YouTube. Like every president before him, he was simply harnessing the latest tools to talk to them, one-way.

Technophiles who watched the campaign closely expected more, and now they are putting pressure on the White House to govern with unparalleled transparency and citizen interaction. Dan Froomkin of the Niemen Watchdog Journalism Project and The Washington Post summed up expectations in a blog post calling for Obama to embrace “wiki culture” in which “major policy proposals have public collaborative workspaces.”

150,000+ subscribers
follow Obama’s Twitter feed.

0 tweets
have been posted by Obama staffers since the election.

Obama has himself to blame for raising such expectations. During the campaign, he embraced every form of social media. At My.BarackObama.com, supporters could create profiles, talk to each other, and—by election day—plan some 200,000 offline dinners and living room fund-raisers. Users could log in from home to get lists of swing-state voters to telephone; this generated 3 million calls in the final four days of the race. Those efforts were combined with massive database-crunching to identify potential voters who could be approached door-to-door by last-minute canvassers, myself included.

As for John McCain’s efforts, well, he didn’t really have any. According to Andrew Rasiej and Micah Sifry, cofounders of the Personal Democracy Forum and the blog TechPresident, Obama had four times the number of Facebook supporters, 24 times the Twitter devotees, and three times the visitors to his site in the final campaign week. The public watched about 15 million hours of Obama campaign videos on YouTube. Along the way, Obama collected 13 million email addresses, more than a million cell phone numbers, and a half-billion dollars in online donations.

There’s also another reason to expect a tech-driven presidency: Obama promised it. He said he would expand government transparency by putting more data up on the Web, streaming meetings live, and letting the public comment on most legislation for five days before he signs it. He said he would bring blogs, wikis, and social networking tools with him into the executive branch—all overseen by a new national chief technology officer. Indeed, Obama’s transition site, Change.gov, offers glimmers of a potential digital presidency with its YouTube addresses, issue-based discussion forums, and inside-the-transition videos featuring future cabinet members responding to comments.

But turning his innovative campaign and transition into Government 2.0 won’t be easy. The nimble Obama startup is about to be absorbed into a stodgy, technologically backward behemoth: the federal government. Ahead are bureaucratic obstacles the campaign never imagined, along with the political land mines that transparency brings. Obama will have to preserve the enthusiasm of his supporters while engaging the larger group of people who either didn’t vote for him or didn’t vote at all. His task is to rebuild the personal connection that supporters felt they had with Obama the candidate, assuring them that he is listening to them—without being deafened by the cacophony. If he can do that, Obama can alter how the government engages its citizenry and accomplish what he really cares about: his own policy goals.

Building that intimacy from the Oval Office will be a delicate and complex task, and just letting “AcidTrout” respond to a YouTube address with “Who’s the black guy?!?” isn’t going to do it. “One of the things that gives me ulcers is that there are a lot of high expectations,” says an Obama aide. “But we’re going to have to change how government thinks about the Internet before we can do the things we want to do.”

500+ PDFs
submitted by third parties for viewing and public comment are available on Change.gov.

Still, Macon Phillips, the campaign’s deputy director of new media, who has served in a similar role for the transition, warns: “Day one is going to be a lot different than perhaps day 100.”

The basement of the General Services Administration building in Washington, with its maze of identical hallways and frosted glass doors, reeks of generic federal bureaucracy. But if the new administration plans to reboot the system, it will find a pair of guides here in Bev Godwin and Sheila Campbell, cheerful doyens of the executive branch’s Web strategy. Godwin, director of USA.gov, the federal government’s all-purpose information Web portal, and Campbell, head of the government’s Web Best Practices Team, know every manacle and chain shackling the government to the 20th century. In a drab conference room one afternoon in late November, they discussed their optimism—and detailed their concerns.

For starters, the federal government operates more than 24,000 separate sites, many of them years out of date. “Nobody stepped back and asked strategically, how do we do this?” Godwin says. “Whenever there is a new initiative or program, they put up a new Web site.” And the first thing they usually do on that site, she says, is post a bandwidth-hogging picture of the bureaucrat in charge.

3,701 comments
on health care were submitted online to secretary of health and human services designate Tom Daschle.

Godwin and Campbell have been pushing government agencies to treat citizens more like customers, rebuilding their sites to help visitors do things like find loans or obtain passports—rather than serve as static repositories for press releases and personnel photos. “At Housing and Urban Development, for example, one of the missions is to reduce homelessness,” Godwin says. “If you go to HUD.gov, can you find shelter? The answer is no.” If the government can improve itself in these little ways, they say, great. Don’t worry about trying wild stuff, like setting up federal social networks. Many agencies bar employees from even looking at sites like Facebook at work, much less building their own versions.

Progress has been achingly slow. There have been some notable exceptions—like a blog on the Transportation Security Administration Web site, open to comments and manned by five agency staffers, and NASA.gov’s numerous social media initiatives, including Twitter feeds from 20 missions and projects. But the successes are rare and isolated. “We know that there are a lot of people advocating for more open government,” Godwin says. “We’re saying, absolutely, put the data out there. But I think we have to be realistic.”

For example, many of Obama’s online campaign techniques would be impeded by a collection of obscure and well-intentioned rules. Amendments to the 1973 Rehabilitation Act, for example, require that all government Web content be made reasonably accessible—in real time—to disabled users. Also, six months of negotiations between the General Services Administration and Google to establish a federal YouTube channel have stalled over similarly intricate legal issues. Meanwhile, a Clinton-era law called the Paperwork Reduction Act requires that an agency undergo a laborious approval process any time it “surveys” more than 10 people. The result: “Agencies tend to avoid doing these kind of surveys,” Godwin says. Would having users submit information to a social network or wiki count as a survey? Nobody knows.

20.3 million:
The number of visits to Obama’s YouTube channel since its September 2006 launch.

Even triumphs like Obama’s 2006 Google for Government bill, cosponsored with Republican senator Tom Coburn, have been caught up in red tape. The bill led to the creation of FedSpending.org, a site allowing the public to track federal contracts and grants. Instead of building it in-house, the Office of Management and Budget decided to license something similar from a nonprofit watchdog group, OMB Watch—for just 4 percent of what the government had expected to spend. It was a striking victory for government efficiency, but the process behind the scenes “was extremely difficult,” says Gary Bass, executive director of OMB Watch. After floating the idea of donating the system to OMB (“the government can’t take things for free,” Bass quickly learned), the nonprofit had to sign on as a subcontractor and undergo three rounds, and six wasted months, of bidding before the deal was complete.

Changes to what is effectively the president’s homepage, WhiteHouse.gov, will encounter similar obstacles. David Almacy, a PR executive and new media consultant at Waggener Edstrom who served as the Bush administration’s White House Internet director from 2005 to 2007, recalls that following Hurricane Katrina, he posted the transcript of a speech to the site. In the text, where Bush had directed people to Redcross.org, Almacy helpfully inserted a hyperlink. “Within a few hours,” Almacy says, “I got a call from the White House general counsel’s office saying I needed to take out the link.” Some federal government Web pages, it turns out, are virtually barred from linking to nongovernmental sites to avoid the appearance of endorsing one product or organization over another.

The incoming administration is still working to assess the implications of the Presidential Records Act, the post-Nixon legislation requiring the preservation of all White House written communications. But that means that once any page goes up on the White House site, it can’t be altered, only archived and replaced, greatly slowing down the process of modifying and enhancing pages.

The Obama team was able to sidestep these kinds of troublesome rules on Change.gov, in part because, as a quasi-governmental site, it’s not subject to executive-branch restrictions. They were able to post videos on YouTube, link to outside sites, and even publish content under a Creative Commons license, allowing it to be freely shared.

24,000 Web sites
are operated by the US government.

When he does arrive at the White House, Obama or his CTO can lift some of the Internet restrictions with the stroke of a pen. Others will require congressional action or clever technology.

Even if Obama’s tech team gets a free hand to rework the federal webosphere, things can still go awry. Take the 2006 race of Massachusetts governor Deval Patrick. Both David Axelrod, Obama’s top campaign strategist, and David Plouffe, his campaign manager, worked for Patrick, a little-known candidate who used Internet-driven grassroots support to win. In a precursor to My.BarackObama .com, the Patrick campaign placed the state’s voter list on its Web site, allowing its supporters to download phone numbers and call neighbors. “We believed in people’s ability to organize themselves and get involved,” says Charles SteelFisher, who ran the campaign’s Web operation.

No We Can’t

Barack Obama wants to transform the way the White House connects with the public. But there are plenty of obstacles standing in his way. After the election, the governor’s team launched DevalPatrick.com to keep supporters engaged. On a MyIssue page, registered commenters could propose, comment on, and vote for legislative ideas.

But the administration was immediately blasted when a database feature designed to verify Massachusetts residency was alleged (incorrectly) to reveal unlisted phone numbers. The privacy flap lured a collection of trolls and conspiracy theorists to the site, crowding out earnest discussion on gambling bills and income taxes with 9/11 chatter and religious debates. Critics, meanwhile, said that Patrick’s efforts were less about engaging the public than about running a permanent online campaign.

Eventually Patrick’s Web site recovered, developing a more sophisticated way of moderating comments and creating forums around the governor’s plans to reduce property taxes and add public kindergarten programs. The site also allowed people to create grassroots communities to work on issues they cared about. Still, the public isn’t exactly burning up the site: The leading vote-getter, a bill to promote fathers’ custody rights in divorce cases, had just 1,100 tallies as of mid-December. Offshore wind power, meanwhile, was losing, 16 votes to 15.

Obama’s team has moved carefully as it transitions from campaigning to governing. Between two wars and an economy in shambles, building an Oval Office social network has not topped the priority list. “Day one, do we need a White House My.BarackObama? I don’t think so,” says the Obama aide, who was required by the transition press office to speak anonymously. “It’s more important to step back and ask, what are the goals for the White House? And I think that making the government more accountable and transparent is more important than getting people to act.”

To that end, the transition team served up small accountability stuff first. Change .gov supplemented Obama’s weekly YouTube addresses with periodic videos from inside the transition process, everything from staff meetings to vlog-type updates from advisers. In early December, Obama’s public director of liaison and intergovernmental affairs announced—via video—a Change.gov feature called Your Seat at the Table, through which the transition would post every document received from every interest group and outside person throwing it advice. Users were allowed to comment next to the documents, while the Open for Questions feature let them submit and vote on questions for the transition team. The latter experiment illustrated the double-edged nature of feedback when the Senate-seat-selling scandal involving Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich broke. Supporters began flagging related questions “inappropriate,” and then Obama staffers buried the queries. ABCNews.com jumped on the story and the apparent hypocrisy. Obama Transition Web Site ‘Open for Questions’—Except on Blagojevich read the headline.

Change.gov does feature some Slashdot-like issue forums where user rankings send the most popular comments to the top. The first forum, in which two staffers appeared in a short video on health care policy and asked for comments, garnered thousands of horror stories and policy prescriptions. A week later, one of the staffers reappeared with future health and human services secretary Tom Daschle in a rehearsed-looking YouTube video response. “We are just so pleased that so many of you have written in,” Daschle said, appearing extra-pleased. “I spent a lot of the weekend actually reading the comments … We want to make sure that you understand how important those comments and your contributions are.” The comments the pair selected to discuss, however, seemed serendipitously aligned with Obama’s proposed initiatives.

550,000 responses
came in from supporters after Obama adviser David Plouffe requested feedback about the campaign.

In other words, with everything he’s done so far, Obama has been acknowledging feedback but not necessarily heeding it. And that’s what we can expect from Obama’s plan to post all pending nonemergency legislation online and allow the public to comment for five days before he acts on it. By mid-December, technology advisers were still struggling to determine the best way to implement the idea. The bigger question is, what will it accomplish? Even the system’s own architects concede that it’s unlikely that online comments and voting will sway the decision to sign or veto.

Nor should it. The Obama team, for all its Web enthusiasm, recognizes that an online community—no matter how vibrant—doesn’t represent all of the American public. “A lot of people consider online interactions and communications as representative of Americans. But we have a lot more high-speed Internet lines to drop before that’s true,” the Obama aide says. And even with ubiquitous broadband, online voting would remain the ultimate in self-selected polling. There’s no reason to believe that commenters would reflect Americans as a whole or even that they’d be Americans at all. Citizens also may not be as interested in the daily machinery of Obama’s workaday government as they were in his novel campaign. Case in point: By mid-December, views of Obama’s weekly YouTube address had dropped by half.

Still, the new administration wants to be able to marshal its supporters to act. Obama himself suggested as much last April. “Our database has a couple million people on there who are activated and inspired,” he told a small group in Indianapolis. “And so what I want to do is to continue that after the election.” In mid-November, Plouffe sent out a series of emails to supporters. The first directed them to a detailed survey of their campaign experience and policy interests and told them, “It’s up to you to decide how we move forward.” Later, a Plouffe missive declared that “you’ll be instrumental in generating support to pass legislation that puts America on the road to recovery.” At a closed-door meeting with its leading activists in Chicago in December, the Obama team took it a step further and told activists to be ready to pressure Congress on economic stimulus, health care, and energy legislation. A couple of weeks later, the campaign encouraged its supporters to organize “change is coming” get-togethers to discuss the future of the Obama movement, online and off.

Obama doesn’t want his 13 million-name email list to serve as just another political interest group. He needs it to be a tool to keep people engaged with his politics and policies. “Even if you push through the best government programs,” says Michael Cornfield, a political-science professor at George Washington University, “it’s hard to solve the actual problems” without effort from regular people. A national health care plan, for example, will work a whole lot better if former precinct captains are willing to explain it to their neighbors, just as they explained how to get to the polls. And a presidential Twitter feed, Flickr photos, or WhiteHouse.gov video Q&A sessions may not vastly increase transparency or deeply inform policy, but they create a valuable intimacy with citizens. “People who think they are being listened to tend to respect more the person talking,” says Rasiej.

That may not sound like a big deal. But contrary to what Web evangelists and the incoming administration would like to believe, Obama’s campaign was never a bottom-up endeavor. The incoming president didn’t crowdsource his view on the Iraq war or use Digg to determine how to allocate campaign dollars. He ran one of the most tightly controlled, top-down campaigns in modern history, to the point of pressuring outside advocacy groups not to advertise on his behalf. Rather, he asked his supporters for money and inspired them to get involved, giving them the tools to organize themselves and a message to sign on to.

Instead of turning WhiteHouse.gov into a governmental synthesis of Facebook and Wikipedia, or running a permanent campaign off the White House email list, Obama’s best shot at rebooting the government is to remember how he got there: making people feel that they were part of the solution and then enabling them to talk to one another and take action. “There is a relationship between Barack Obama and each individual, and that’s multiplied tens of millions of times over,” says Joe Rospars, the campaign’s director of new media. “But there are also millions and millions of relationships between our supporters. Both of those kinds of relationships didn’t end on Election Day.”

[via WIRED] by Evan Ratliff

Two years ago, Noah Weiss, a young programmer who spent the summer working here at Fog Creek Software, came to me with a business idea. Noah, who was still in college, had noticed that a lot of smaller tech-related blogs were running classified ads for job listings. He suggested that we do the same thing on my company’s blog, Joel on Software. The site is read by thousands of programmers a month — the ones who are so good at programming they have spare time at work to read the self-absorbed drivel I publish there.

Building an online classified ad system would be easy, Noah argued. (As any programmer would tell you: “It’s one table!”) And Fog Creek already had systems in place for charging credit cards, printing receipts, and accepting purchase orders, so the whole project wouldn’t take much work.

At first, I resisted. I had never run ads of any sort on the site and liked the idea of keeping it commercial-free.

But Noah kept arguing. “These 37signals guys are getting 50 ads a month,” he said, referring to a well-known software company in Chicago. “At $250 each, that’s — ”

Wait, I interrupted. They charge $250 for each ad? I had imagined that the going price to run a job listing would be, oh, I don’t know, $4?

That’s right, Noah said. They charge $250 per ad. “Besides,” he went on, “a job listing is not really an ad — it’s providing a community service.”

By then I had almost stopped listening. Little gears were turning in my head: $250 times 50 ads times 12 months — that revenue would allow me to hire another programmer! So we added classified ads to the site. Noah wrote the first draft of the code in about two weeks, and I spent another two weeks polishing and debugging it. The total time to build the job listing service was roughly a month.

Instead of charging the going rate of $250, we decided to charge $350. Why not? I figured we could establish ourselves as having the premium product simply by charging a premium. In the absence of additional information, consumers often use prices to judge products, and I wanted our site to be the Lexus of job listings. A few months later, 37signals raised its price to $300.

By the time you read this, that little four-week project will have made Fog Creek Software $1 million — nearly all of it profit.

That raised a question: How do you properly compensate an employee for a smash-hit, million-dollar idea? On the one hand, you could argue that you don’t have to — a software business is basically an idea factory. We were already paying Noah for his ideas. That was the nature of his employment agreement with us. Why pay twice?

But I felt we needed to do something else to express our gratitude. Should we buy Noah an Xbox 360? Pay him a cash bonus? Maybe present him with a certificate of merit, nicely laser-printed on heavyweight bond paper? Or a T-shirt that said “I Invented a Million-Dollar Business and All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt”? We were stumped.

And what about everybody else at Fog Creek? Those people were doing their jobs, too. Simply because one programmer’s idea translated visibly and directly into a lot of money didn’t mean that the other team members weren’t adding just as much value to the business, albeit in a less direct way. At around the same time Noah came up with the classified ads idea, most of my employees were hard at work developing FogBugz 6.0, a smash hit that just about doubled our monthly sales.

Noah’s case was only the most dramatic example of a question that has long intrigued me: How do you pay employees based on performance when performance is so hard to quantify? The very idea that you can rate knowledge workers on their productivity is highly suspect and always problematic. If you mess up, the consequences are very real.

Psychologists talk about two kinds of motivation: intrinsic and extrinsic. Intrinsic motivation is what drives you to do something regardless of whether you will receive a reward. Why do you spend an hour cleaning the inside of your stove? Nobody looks in there. Your intrinsic motivation compels you to do a thorough job. We all have it — in fact, most people start out with the desire to excel at whatever they do. Extrinsic motivation is the drive to do something precisely because you expect to receive compensation, and it’s the weaker of the two.

The interesting thing, according to psychologists, is that extrinsic motivation has a way of displacing intrinsic motivation. The very act of rewarding workers for a job well done tends to make them think they are doing it solely for the reward; if the reward stops, the good work stops. And if the reward is too low, workers might think, Gosh, this is not worth it. They will forget their innate, intrinsic desire to do good work.

And the grumblers have a point: It’s impossible to know whether that bug that David fixed on Tuesday made more or less money for Fog Creek than the code Ted added on Wednesday. We are not a piecework sweatshop sewing doggie coats, where David made five and Ted made seven, so Ted should obviously get 40 percent more money.

In an environment in which judging performance is a subjective exercise, you are bound to make decisions with which employees disagree. Human beings, by their nature, tend to think of themselves as, how can I put this politely, a bit more wonderful than they really are. All of your B performers think they are A performers. The C performers think they are B performers. (A couple of your A performers think they are F performers, because they are crazy perfectionists or just clinically depressed. But they are the exceptions.)

So even if you did magically have the ability to accurately measure how good someone was at a job, the average worker, with his or her above-average opinion of his or her work, would still feel undervalued.

Throughout my career, I have observed that companies with formal systems that tie cash bonuses to performance end up with far more than half of their staff sulking and unhappy. Back when I worked at Microsoft, one of my friends got a lousy review that was neither fair nor correct: His bosses rated him based on the 5 percent of the job they observed (his infrequent interactions with them) instead of the 95 percent of his job where he was exemplary (his frequent interactions with customers). Based on that review, he almost quit in despair. But he held on, and now he is a very senior executive in charge of a product so important that you, personally, will almost certainly use it today.

So, back to Noah, the guy with the million-dollar idea. Though we don’t believe in performance bonuses, we still wanted to recognize his contribution. We decided to give Noah 10,000 shares of stock — conditional on him coming back to work for us full time when he graduated. Because Fog Creek is private and our stock is hard to value, we could say “it’s only fair that you share in the wealth” without assigning an actual dollar amount to it. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but everybody thought it made sense.

Noah seemed pleased, and we hoped the stock would entice him to come back to Fog Creek to take a full-time job. Which…he didn’t. Google made him a better offer. That’s another flaw with performance-based rewards: They are easy for one of your competitors to top.

Oh, well. Thanks for the summer, Noah. We are keeping an empty office here in case you change your mind.

[via Inc Magazine] by Joel Spolsky

In late 2006, Justin Vernon, a musician in Eau Claire, Wis., recorded nine songs while staying at his parents’ hunting cabin in northern Wisconsin after a breakup with a girlfriend and his long-time band. He used just a desktop computer with recording software, a three-piece drum set and a guitar.

A few months later, Mr. Vernon posted the songs on his MySpace page, hoping to get some listeners and feedback. He also printed 500 copies of a CD with those songs to sell to friends and fans and send to music bloggers for review.

He got that and much more.

Chelsea Sanders

Justin Vernon of Bon Iver performing at WIUX radio station at Indiana University at Bloomington.

Thanks to the buzz his online tracks generated on music blogs and social-networking sites, Mr. Vernon has played at numerous venues and appeared on the “Late Show With David Letterman.” He signed a record deal in October 2007, and his first album, “For Emma, Forever Ago,” sold about 87,000 copies through mid-December, with about half of those downloaded online. With a band he formed early this year, called Bon Iver, Mr. Vernon is now playing sold-out concerts across the U.S. and abroad.

“The Internet played a significant role in feeding people the music…. It’s like wildfire [how it] spreads,” Mr. Vernon, 27, said before a show earlier this year in Philadelphia, where the band performed to a boisterous crowd of about 500 in a church basement. “That propelled us right into being able to choose what kind of record label we wanted to work with.”

Mr. Vernon’s rapid success shows how small, relatively unknown artists can gain fame via the Web without the large marketing budgets and backing of a major record label. The exposure on blogs, YouTube, social-networking, marketing and other sites can allow them to nurture a following quickly and cheaply.

“It’s about consumers talking to each other and to the artist through the Web and at concerts, where the emphasis on top 40 hits” has disappeared, says marketing expert and author Seth Godin. “Now, it’s about niches.” Record labels, once responsible for making music artists famous, are being replaced by music bloggers who review albums and post YouTube videos of their favorite bands, he adds.

One of the first people to spread the word about Mr. Vernon’s songs was popular music blogger Craig “Dodge” Lile of myoldkyhome.blogspot.com. He was scanning MySpace for music and stumbled across Mr. Vernon’s profile page. Liking what he heard, he posted about it in June 2007 on his blog: “Vernon sings in a perfect falsetto over sparse folk backgrounds on a lot of tracks, but opens it a bit more naturally on this one,” referring to a song called “Skinny Love.”

In the following weeks, other music blogs and sites, including BrooklynVegan.com and Pitchforkmedia.com, gave the songs glowing reviews.

“Big pacemakers out there gave it a good review, and people sort of latched onto it,” says Kyle Frenette, Bon Iver’s manager, in Chippewa Falls, Wis.

And once artists gather a large online following, record labels often start chasing them. Indeed, by the fall of 2007, a number of record labels had reached out to Mr. Vernon. He ultimately signed up with Jagjaguwar of Bloomington, Ind., in late October.

After signing the deal, Mr. Vernon put together a band. Jagjaguwar officially released “For Emma, Forever Ago,” in February 2008, and Bon Iver has been touring almost continuously since.

A big part of Mr. Vernon’s success in the blogosphere and beyond, Mr. Frenette says, was crafting a compelling story to help fans connect to the music even more. Bon Iver’s MySpace page, Web site and CD all include the same story: a paragraph telling how Mr. Vernon wrote the songs while hibernating in the remote cabin in the woods. It outlined why Mr. Vernon’s story was different, what the name Bon Iver means (it’s a misspelling of the French term for “good winter”) and how the songs were made (using microphones and aged recording equipment).

While much of Mr. Vernon’s acclaim has come through buzz on blogs, other musicians are finding outlets and Web tools to help their music get exposure. Artists can use TuneCore.com to distribute their songs to music-retail sites, including iTunes and Amazon. Artists pay a one-time fee of 99 cents a song, plus maintenance and storage fees. At online record store CDBaby.com, owned by Disc Makers of Pennsauken, N.J., musicians can upload their music, which can then be digitized, stored and sold on the site. CDBaby keeps $4 for every CD sale and 9% for every download.

Sonicbids Corp.’s site is an online marketplace that connects musicians with promoters, booking agents and industry professionals. Using the tools on the site, bands can find live gigs and licensing opportunities by submitting a bid — including an online press kit with audio and video tracks, photos and a biography — to concert promoters and event planners who also are members of the community site. Musicians pay $5.95 to $10.95 a month or $50 to $100 a year in membership fees.

One U.K. site, Slicethepie Ltd.’s Slicethepie.com, allows artists to raise money to create albums, directly from fans and investors. Music fans are paid by the site to review and rate tracks uploaded by artists. The highest-rated artists are then placed in a “showcase” where people can listen to the music and invest in artists they like. When the investments reach a certain level, the artists receive the money, minus a 10% cut for Slicethepie. Artists also pay Slicethepie a royalty on the sale of every album or single for a two-year period.

“The Internet has been like the French Revolution for the music business,” says Panos Panay, founder and CEO of Sonicbids. The aristocracy “has faded” as the “cost of distribution, production and even getting connected has come down.” Now, he adds, anyone with “a niche and devoted fans can make a living.”

[via WSJ Small Business] by Shelly Banjo and Kelly K. Spors

Twelve years ago, Jeff Koeze surprised his wife, his parents, and himself by agreeing to give up a comfortable life teaching law to take over the then-86-year-old family business. At 36, the professor was going to become a nut man.

His father, Scott Koeze (pronounced KOO-zee), was sick of running Koeze Co., which was doing about $7 million a year, mostly in mail order, primarily in cashews. That worried Jeff enough that he insisted that his father not stick around any longer than two years. If the elder Koeze ended up refusing to leave, Jeff had a golden parachute: two years of salary. Moving from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Jeff and his wife, Kate, even chose a house in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where Koeze Co. is based, that they figured would be easy to resell. “I wanted a risk-free out if it didn’t work,” Jeff says.

Instead, a few months after Jeff showed up, his father went on vacation and didn’t come back. Didn’t return phone calls, either. “I know your dad — he’s retired,” a longtime worker told Jeff.

Koeze was in disbelief. “That just can’t be,” he replied. But it was.

Thus began the education of an educated CEO, a lawyer and tenured professor steeped in book learning but lacking any business experience; given to endless research, at a company that had been built and run by his shoot-from-the-hip father; accustomed to debating with colleagues and letting the best argument prevail, at a company where workers had no expectation of knowing why a decision had been made.

In his early years at the company, Koeze despaired — not about going bankrupt but over the fear that he would never turn the place into anything resembling his view of himself: intellectually curious, blunt and transparent in speech, and able to shift rapidly from one challenging task to another.

He didn’t want to be a smart guy running a dumb business, even if it did make money. And, anyway, he suspected profits wouldn’t last long unless the whole place got smarter.

It did. Here’s how, one lesson at a time.

IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW YOU LEARN — JUST LEARN

Before leaving, Koeze’s father managed to throw him this piece of advice: “You can’t learn to run a business by reading a book.”

But the younger Koeze, so unlike his intuitive and impetuous father, had always turned to books for guidance. Besides, the old man wasn’t around to show him the ropes. Workers at Koeze weren’t going to be much help; they knew only the old ways, and that wasn’t at all what Jeff Koeze had in mind. “I attacked it like I attack every problem,” he says, “with a stack of books 18 feet high.” (For a sampling of Koeze’s influences, see “The Well-Read Entrepreneur“.)

Among the workers he inherited, he says, he saw “intellectual passivity.” People weren’t interested in learning new skills. “My employees were extremely good in the narrow base they’d built up over time. But that narrow base gets outdated pretty fast.”

Koeze’s wide smile often turns down, into a faint grimace. And his eyes widen and his brows lift frequently to suggest a shared secret. But his voice is steady in volume and pace, almost never excited. “I am neither a firer nor a screamer,” he told himself. “If I can’t get better at this, I am going to have to sell this company.”

Koeze, 48, went to remarkable lengths — hauling in consultants, a shrink, a philosophy professor; reading a library full of organizational behavior books; trotting off to pricey seminars — to challenge both the workers and himself to adapt to one another and perhaps forge a better way of working together.

Is selling nuts really so complicated? Koeze packages them as business gifts in fancy glass jars, priced to compete with a nice necktie. Send out a million catalogs. Roast and pack. Take orders and ship. But extreme seasonality, with 96.5 percent of sales coming in the fourth quarter, requires rapid expansion and sudden shrinkage. It’s jarring. Year-round employment of about 40 swells to some 130 before Christmas. Koeze needed to launch new products and sell through new channels to expand. And doing a good job at even mundane stuff — buying packaging, running retail outlets, hiring people — seemed to a business newcomer to invite endless reading and research.

Koeze’s eventual success — he has boosted sales to $12 million, improved profit margins, introduced new products, and modernized manufacturing and order taking, and many workers have ultimately embraced the boss’s rigorous data-driven decision making — isn’t an argument for or against business by book learning. Rather, it’s an argument for learning, by whatever means an entrepreneur and his or her company can manage it.

Koeze is now a seasoned entrepreneur, with lessons also learned on the shop floor. But still, his first reference in discussing business is almost always a book. Why, I ask him, is his desk organized so meticulously — 80-some file folders, labeled and displayed in an amphitheater of to-dos?

“David Allen’s Getting Things Done,” he replies and gives a faithful and succinct synopsis of the book. Having laid out the concept, he then talks about how he applies it to Koeze Co. He operates with a calendar of meetings but no to-do list. A quick scan of his desk, however, can remind him what’s hot on his agenda.

EVEN IF YOU’RE GREEN, TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS

Jeff Koeze’s first full year in charge, 1997, Koeze Co. ended the holiday season with $600,000 in unsold merchandise. A lot of it was mixed nuts.

Koeze had to heavily discount the stuff. “A one-time, half-million-dollar working capital reduction” was the result, he says.

Should he have been worried? The company was still profitable. Many of his workers didn’t seem surprised or troubled. The financial statements — they made no distinction between finished and unfinished inventory and thus gave no clue about unsold nuts in prior years — were no help. Still, it didn’t seem right to Koeze to have missed the sales plan by such a wide margin. “I was certainly shocked,” he says.

The old method was to estimate the coming year’s sales — essentially tweaking last year’s results — and schedule the plant in long, uninterrupted runs to produce the necessary inventory: cashews, mixed nuts, candies. Even if orders came in that didn’t match expectations. It was convenient for production workers but ultimately costly to the company.

Koeze got the production, sales, and shipping people together and told them to fix the problem. “A huge improvement came by just saying this really matters,” he says. In 1998, unsold merchandise was $200,000. “A number I can live with,” he says. Also a glimmer of hope that his workers, if asked to, could actually help solve a problem. Radical change, including twice-daily meetings to adjust production to sales results as the holiday season heats up, has now brought unsold merchandise down to less than $150,000, even as sales have almost doubled.

IF YOU’RE NOT CAREFUL, YOUR BUSINESS’S HISTORY WILL BE YOUR DESTINY

Scott Koeze had been forced at age 28 to take over the business when his father died suddenly, and he had had a love-hate relationship with Koeze Co. ever since. He had always made sure Jeff felt absolute freedom in choosing a career. Though the two were vastly different in temperament, they sought each other’s company. When he was a kid, Jeff recalls, his father left for work at 5:45 most mornings. “But if I could hold him up until 6, Looney Tunes would come on, and he would watch with me for an hour.”

As a youth, Jeff sometimes went to the plant with his father, shoveling peanut skins away from the roaster and into burlap bags, and wedging his slender body into tight spots to inspect for rodent droppings. But Jeff never saw himself running Koeze Co.

And it was peculiarly his father’s company. Scott Koeze had made some smart moves. He had sold his biggest product line, private-label peanut butter (a $10 million operation), when he realized the business was about to get squeezed by supermarket consolidation. He had built a business selling Koeze’s nuts and candies through community groups doing fundraising. And he had built up the catalog business to spread sales nationally.

But he had a touch of the crazy boss in him. Weeks after being hired as Scott Koeze’s assistant 26 years ago, Deborah Owsinski introduced her new boss to her husband. ” ‘I’m so happy to meet you. I love your wife,’ ” she recalls Scott saying. “And he turned and planted a big wet kiss on my mouth. That sort of set the tone. He was hilarious. I loved working for Scott. He was not predictable.”

Not everyone was laughing. Tom Lakos, who runs Koeze’s two retail outlets, both in Grand Rapids, recalls Scott Koeze sneaking up on him “just to catch me not working.” More than once, the boss yelled at Lakos so thoroughly, over a variety of matters, that a co-worker dissolved into tears.

Inconsistency led to dysfunction. Scott Koeze was known for asking employees to look into his latest whim. Then he would forget about it and express surprise or lack of interest when workers reported back to him with proposals. So people began ignoring his requests.

Jeff Koeze, unaware of this little drama, was perplexed when, as the new boss, “I’d ask people to do stuff — and they wouldn’t do it.” He only later found out why. “As it turns out, it was entirely logical behavior,” he says.

Indeed, it took Jeff some time to realize he was having a personality clash — not with any individual but with the established rituals at Koeze Co. It’s a problem that blindsides many who enter a new business at the top. Hyperrational, by his own description, and accustomed to university colleagues who were also wired that way, Jeff expected workers at Koeze Co. to behave similarly.

But they had learned from Scott Koeze. “I never had a plan,” Scott says. “I got up in the morning, and I ran like hell.” It’s easy to believe him. These days, he dresses like a cowboy, a lanky man in hat, boots, and a snap shirt. And he can’t seem to sit still in his own house, which perches on a hill overlooking Lake Michigan on the Leelanau Peninsula. When I visit, he drags me out for a buggy ride behind a duo of big Frisian horses across his sprawling property.

Coaxing the horses at every turn, he pleads guilty to micro-managing. “I’d say, ‘Move aside and let me do it,’ ” he says. When he discovered that his workers had compiled a guide to handling customer complaints, he told them, “Burn that file. I want to handle every complaint.

“I had people problems, and I knew it,” Scott Koeze says. “And I could not take my business one step further. I’d had a bellyful of that business.”

Jeff Koeze initially bought a minority stake from his father, financed over 10 years. About five years into running the company, convinced he wanted to stay on, he persuaded his father to sell his voting control. “You know as well as I do, people have done odd things as they get older,” he explained to his father. The note for that part of the sale has five more years to run. Jeff now owns two-thirds of the company, and his parents own the remainder.

PEOPLE RESIST CHANGE

If something sounds like a smart idea to Jeff Koeze, he will generally try it. He has always been that way. He opted to switch high schools his junior year, moving to Cranbrook, a private boarding school in the Detroit suburbs, where he knew he would get more challenging studies. He wasn’t afraid of being the new kid. “It’s every high schooler’s dream, right?” he says. “You get to start over.”

Shown the wisdom of change, surely Koeze Co. workers would embrace it. Koeze needed the company to be a place where criticism was shared and accepted. He brought in a North Carolina colleague, organizational psychologist Roger Schwarz, who now runs his own consulting firm. Schwarz advocates a particularly open form of communication between businesspeople. No hidden agendas. No sneak attacks in meetings. His theories can be particularly annoying to powerful people, because he argues that leaders, by communicating poorly (sandwiching criticism between dollops of insincere praise or asking questions about a touchy subject without first explaining why), often cause the very behavior in underlings (failure to hear criticism, refusal to volunteer bad news) that most irks them.

When Schwarz asked Koeze’s managers to write up accounts of conflicts they had had with one another, an exercise in dissecting unproductive speech habits, some resisted. They viewed Schwarz’s methods as BS and weren’t wild about opening old wounds. One refused to participate. Koeze didn’t see what the big deal was. “The only risk was someone would start to cry,” he says.

And though Schwarz regards Jeff Koeze as one of his clients most devoted to the methods — “Jeff is easily a nine or a 10″ on a 10-point scale — Koeze to this day feels his crew tiptoes around difficult topics. “Notwithstanding all of our training,” Koeze wrote as part of a case study for one of Schwarz’s handbooks, “I recently described the avoidance of delivering negative information concerning the performance of others as a core feature of Koeze’s culture.” Without a freewheeling discussion, how could he get the staff to embrace different ways of doing business?

Koeze brought in a local philosophy professor, Michael De-Wilde, who uses literature to get varied groups, including prisoners, to discuss their situations. At Koeze, DeWilde assigned Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men. The workers were soon comparing one another to its characters. “You’re like Lennie” (the mentally dim worker who doesn’t know his own strength), one Koeze employee bluntly told another. DeWilde says the exercise helped two workers realize they wanted to leave Koeze, and that eased problems in the production shop.

In 2004, DeWilde helped Koeze face up to a service problem at his retail stores. Workers were too passive in service — they camped behind the counter rather than prowling the store to engage indecisive customers. And they were too aggressive when it came to handling complaints; they were reluctant to simply give an unhappy customer a new jar of nuts. Neither problem was huge, but Koeze knew any failure to resolve a complaint in the customer’s favor would risk losing that person for good. And sales weren’t going to rise on their own — his retail workers needed to sell.

Koeze asked DeWilde to fix the service problem, and in a way that would keep him from being surprised by problems a second time. For 10 months, the retail workers met every other week — in two-hour sessions, fully paid — and shared their ideas and frustrations. Marcia Huber, who has worked nearly a decade at Koeze stores, says her initial training was “next to nothing.” She knew whom to call with a problem but hadn’t been told how to solve problems. The occasional upset customer, then, was a source of great worry for her and others.

With DeWilde’s help, the salespeople decided that it’s OK, when a customer knocks on the door after closing time, to let him or her in; customers could sample anything in the store; and if a customer was unhappy with something, staff should replace it free of charge and without question. “That did take a lot of anxiety out of seeing someone walk through the door with a Koeze bag,” Huber says.

Upon meeting DeWilde, she says, “At first we were intimidated by his education.” But over time, she adds, “I felt very pleased that the company would put forth that much effort. It built our confidence.”

Still, change was often coming too slowly to suit Jeff Koeze.

SOMETIMES, THE BOSS NEEDS TO CHANGE

By his sixth or seventh year at Koeze Co., Jeff says, he felt “a great deal of personal frustration.” Being a boss, he realized, often meant delegating to people with skills inferior to your own. It also meant much of your own company is hidden to you, because workers don’t share a lot of what they know. Those problems, of course, no boss can fix. He wondered if he should sell.

“I was not well suited to this or any business,” Koeze remembers thinking. “There were things that had to be fixed about me. I was probably rational to a fault.” As an undergrad at North Carolina, he had flourished at Chi Psi, the school’s nerdiest fraternity. For his blunt debating style, his brothers voted him “most obnoxious Yankee” seven semesters in a row.

“He relished earning that distinction,” says Donald Beeson, a Chi Psi brother. “He was very direct.”

As a professor, among colleagues, Koeze operated under the assumption that the best argument wins any given point. “Formal authority is rarely used,” he says. Inherent in that approach is the belief that people shouldn’t be told what to do. Rather, they should be taught to decide what to do.

But the approach was foreign to the workers at Koeze Co. It took the help of Schwarz, DeWilde, and others, but Koeze eventually came to see “how unlikely it was that I was going to be able to argue people into doing things my way. The other piece of it is my own reluctance to use authority.”

Indeed, he sometimes had to simply give orders. He had to stop researching and just make a decision. “He’ll get so anal on numbers, he’ll overanalyze it,” says Paul Bernhard, an accountant who advised Scott and Jeff Koeze on succession issues.

So, Koeze did change. He took some of the Roger Schwarz medicine he had been prescribing for others: He began to share his thoughts, and that put people at ease. At DeWilde’s urging, he also became more patient. And Koeze listened to and changed his own speech. He realized he confused people by verbally debating with himself the very issue on which he was about to give an order. “It’s made worse by a habit I have of thinking out loud,” he says. “Somewhere in here, there’s an order. That’s all they’re listening for. ‘When are you going to tell me what to do?’ ”

And Koeze stopped yearning for workers he couldn’t afford and instead invested in the ones he had. “We can’t afford to hire fancy folks,” he says. “But we need them.” He learned to spot traits in his existing workers — compulsiveness, curiosity — that translate into business skills. His dissatisfaction, he decided, “was mainly just me getting snippy with people.”

HOW YOU RUN YOUR LIFE AFFECTS HOW YOU RUN YOUR BUSINESS

As he settled into Koeze Co., Jeff Koeze got heavily involved in outside activities, some that too closely resembled running a business. He was serving on the board of an antitobacco group, and he was on his church’s vestry. His creative director, Martin Andree, convinced Koeze he was overextending himself. “People’s livelihoods and families are depending on you,” Andree told him. “You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Mike Redman, a former Steelcase executive who met Koeze on the church vestry and then came to work at Koeze Co., also warned his new boss, “If you want to grow this thing, you’re going to have to give up some of these outside things.”

Koeze listened. He relinquished his board seat with the antitobacco group in 2002 and scaled back other commitments. He took up mind-clearing hobbies such as skeet shooting and beekeeping (still allowing himself a stack of books on such topics). The change gave him more energy to tackle projects that had seemed too difficult. He relaunched the peanut butter business, but as a premium brand, Cream-Nut, sold at high-end retailers. He finally got a strategic plan written, in 2007.

APPLIED OVER TIME, CRITICAL THINKING SKILLS SUCCEED

As he became more patient, he realized that some workers had in fact grown. Debbie Stokes, a longtime employee, remembers wondering, upon Jeff’s arrival, “Who’s the geek with the bow tie?” But as the years went by, she saw a kindred spirit, and she understood that her own compulsive urges to organize could now be unleashed at the office. “It was fun to set up all these new processes,” she says.

Koeze Co. became smarter. A lot of running a business is project-based stuff few entrepreneurs do frequently enough to truly master. Reading up helped Koeze and his employees pull off a series of big improvements.

The mail-order catalog, 30 to 40 items on 12 pages when Jeff arrived, is up to 100 items this year, on 28 pages. The million copies are sent out bearing about 70 key codes, which allow the company to track sales by cover art, days the catalogs are mailed, and which rented mailing list was used.

A new phone system is being installed. Before the company signed a contract, Deborah Owsinski, now an executive, read up on the topic and then produced a 10-page request for proposal. It resembled something that a far larger company would issue, says Mike Borowka, director of business development at Quantum Leap Communications, the vendor that won the contract. “They had it all storyboarded out, this whole process. It’s a little intimidating,” Borowka says.

Koeze asked Owsinski to research incentive pay. She had done so several times for Scott Koeze, only to see her work ignored. But she read up again and became enamored of a book, Punished by Rewards, by Alfie Kohn, that argues against individual incentives for children, students, and workers. She persuaded Koeze to implement a profit-sharing plan without individual bonuses. It rewards collective performance. “I wouldn’t run an investment bank this way,” Koeze says. “But it works for us.”

Fixing the call center in 2007 may have been Jeff Koeze’s finest hour. A sample of orders taken showed that a disturbing 35 percent contained errors: the name Whithead typed in as Shithead; the gift greeting with our love rendered as with out love. Those were caught before they went out. Who knows what wasn’t caught?

Koeze Co. has a 550-page training manual for the dozens of temporary workers it hires every fall to staff the call center, and some get as much as seven weeks of paid training for their 10 weeks of productive work. But there was a history of bad blood between the auditors and supervisors who correct order mistakes and those who take the orders.

All the measuring in the world wasn’t going to fix that. So Jeff Koeze hired Marybeth Atwell, a clinical social worker with minimal business experience, to counsel the opposing groups. As Schwarz had, she examined speech patterns. Auditors and supervisors stood over the order takers, and she suggested sitting down next to them to discuss errors. The auditors and supervisors tended to command (“I need to talk to you”) rather than ask (“Do you have a minute?”). And they voiced exasperation (“You made the same mistake you made yesterday. What’s the deal here?”) instead of constructive suggestions (“I notice you made this mistake on a number of occasions. Can you go back and examine how you did this?”).

Order takers, many returning from previous years at Koeze, needed a fresh outlook, too. “If you start a dynamic in the group of hating the supervisor, then nobody benefits,” Atwell told them. “A lot of these people are unemployed and really wanting work,” she says. “So they bring a lot of their own frustrations.”

Order-taking errors declined to as low as 10 percent, and nearly all mistakes are caught before shipping.

A SMART BUSINESS IS MORE THAN JUST PROFITABLE

The cashew company, after a dozen years, bears a strong resemblance to its owner. Numbers-obsessed but compassionate. And smart. In long conversations, DeWilde, the philosophy professor, and Koeze, the cashew man, talked about Aristotle’s notion of friendship: surrounding yourself with people who challenge you to be your best. For Jeff Koeze, the business is that friend — or, in DeWilde’s words, “an avenue for him to be who he wants to be.” Koeze, he adds, “wants to go to work in the morning. That wasn’t always the case when I met him.”

And Koeze says he remembers his father’s advice — that you can’t learn to run a business by reading books. “I guess I’d say you can, by reading lots and lots of books, and then running it.”

[Via Inc. Magazine, December 2008] by: Jeff Bailey

Behind every Twitter account is a person. But some of these people ‘hide’ behind organizational brands, obscuring their persona and therefore reducing authenticity and transparency.

While some brands do a decent job of engaging people on Twitter, many don’t, and one could further argue that brand names and logos, as opposed to full names and user images, are not in the spirit of the Twitterverse.

People Talk to People

Twitter is about people sharing information with other people. So how do one-dimensional organizational brands fit into this mix? When you really think about it, they don’t. As an analogy, when you call customer service, a human answers the phone (eventually) and tells you their name – and you’re not talking to “Sprint” or “Dell” but rather “Steve” or “Danny.”

So, does anyone really want to talk to @DunkinDonuts? Or would they rather talk to Bill Rosenberg, the founder of Dunkin Donuts of Canton, MA, or perhaps the local franchise owner on Capitol Hill, or a disgruntled but funny summer employee punching in at 4am? People connect with people, and so I think the latter.

Twitter is still deciding how to monetize, and one possible approach would be to charge organizations a fee for using the service as a marketing tool. Most brands are not yet tweeting, but selling a premium service might increase Twitter’s profile and suddenly seem like an attractive strategy. I think this would be a mistake from the viewpoint of people who use Twitter.

Twitter may become little more than an enormous number of feeds, mainly full of nothing of interest to you. And while the system is built to be opt-in, the prospect of wading through 100 or 1000 times more junk when you do searches, companies hiring SEO consultants to put key words in front of your face, and seeing @AnimalCrackers at the top of the TwitterGrader list in my local area are unattractive byproducts of this business model. (Alternatively, brands just might not buy in at all.)

No Brands on Twitter

Thinking about what might be best for people, in my opinion Twitter should not only not charge brands for membership, but also ban them altogether. Not unlike Facebook and other sites, every account would represent a person using a real name, location, and picture.

People could still tout their businesses, hobbies, and anything else in their handle, bio, or feed, but in an environment of authenticity and therefore increased trust. Some people will game the system, to be sure; but they will often get found out through the wisdom of crowds, so what’s the point?

New users would find having only real, authentic people on Twitter more attractive. Let’s face it, not many people use Twitter yet, and a company with a trusted brand like IBM could develop a platform with a better GUI and a few more features that my parents would be far more likely to try out, perhaps initially bankrolled as a public service. Twitter is far from invulnerable.
Personalities Might Help Brands

this-space-for-rentI think that authentic and transparent personal Twitter accounts – being yourself in an uncontrived way – may indirectly and intimately influence (I3) organizational brands, because of the level of trust involved in sharing information with someone over the course of time. Many people have increased awareness of the government through talking to me and reading my Twitter feed. But I am not a public affairs professional, nor the official brand of the Department of Defense – just an informed, empowered, and hopefully interesting individual.

Having just one personal account would also streamline Twitter’s user base, structuring it in a slight but possibly meaningful way. Why try to gain ambient awareness via TwitterFeed, when each person associated with an organization is a word-of-mouth advertising device?

Dr. Mark Drapeau is a biological scientist, government consultant, and regular contributor to Mashable.com and other venues. These views are his own and do not represent the official views of any organization.

[via Mashable] by Mark Drapeau

Here’s something new I’m gonna try on my blog – adding a music component to it. Let me know what you think…the one above is: Charles Hamilton – BROOKLYN GIRL.

Ludacris – ONE MORE DRINK

Common feat. Pharrell – UNIVERSAL MIND CONTROL

Q-Tip – GETTIN’ UP

Gym Class Heroes – GUILTY AS CHARGED

Band Of Horses – THE FUNERAL

That’s what I got for tonight…more to come soon.