Sherie Griffiths

November 22, 2011

Better the devil you know? – how do you feel about change?

We humans are creatures of habit. Like it or not, as a rule, we aren’t mad keen on major change. In business, of course, we have to embrace it – because if we don’t evolve, we’re dead. Entrepreneurs are a weird subspecies of the human race – and I count myself as one of them. Among our number are those who buck the trend completely. They constantly change what they do or how they do it, just for the hell of it. Take Rupert Murdoch for instance (what was that…? ‘Yes, please – take him!’???! Yes, well, that’s another topic, for another blog…). I once heard from someone who used to work for him that he would implement an idea on Monday – and by Thursday it would have been replaced by something else – just because he could; but for most of us – even if we’re mad enough to go into business for ourselves –while we might see some kinds of change as opportunities, others aren’t so welcome.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this recently because I’ve made major changes, at work and outside. On the work front, there was the rebrand a few weeks ago – the best thing I ever did, incidentally, but quite a scary prospect beforehand.

Personally, I’ve just changed what I drive. No, I’m not talking about swapping a Ford for a Mercedes. I’ve just decided that after twenty-five years of driving Labradors (guide dogs), it’s time to switch to a long cane. What’s the difference? Well, it’s like driving an automatic for years, then suddenly moving to a manual gear box. When you drive an automatic, you still have to know where you’re going and pay attention to what you’re doing and to other road-users etc (as you do with a dog), but there are things you don’t have to worry about. Behind the wheel of a manual car – and behind a long cane – you’re responsible for absolutely everything! Right now I feel I should have L-plates – but this time, I’ll make it work. I’ve tried before and given up – because I didn’t have the motivation to make it work with a cane. This time, for reasons I won’t bore you with, I really want and need to make it happen – so I will.

Coming back to business, I’ve just started reading ‘Fusion: the new way of marketing’ by David Miles and David Taylor. The book is, in a very small nutshell, all about how, whether we like it or not (and those of us over a certain age may like it slightly less than our younger counterparts), our websites must now be at the heart of our marketing and social media has to be a main artery through the body of that marketing.

Last Thursday, at the CEWE conference, organized by the University of East London, I met members of the next generation of entrepreneurs, including two new graduates whose dissertations were business plans. We’re now following each other on Twitter. For them, the need to use Twitter, Facebook etc to promote their new business is as obvious as it was to my generation that we needed a website, or to the previous that they needed to produce leaflets.

Plenty of us who are a little older are getting into social media, of course – it hasn’t been the preserve of teens and techies for some time – but we need to get to grips with using it intelligently, strategically. Without giving too much away, if you’re around my age, you have at least twenty years of working life to go – so, like me, you’re way too young to get left behind.

On that note, I’m off to tweet about this post – and put it on Linkedin … and Facebook … and the website … and …….

March 17, 2010

The Radio Village

Extract from “On Sound Foundations”, Chapter 2, “A Proper Little Madam!”

“At their best, radio and TV create communities; they break down barriers, binding diverse groups of people together with a common interest, be it soap, news or music.

“I tend to think of radio communities as villages.  Some are large, some are small – some no-one outside has ever heard of; but within those groups, everyone knows the place so well, they can talk to each other in shorthand. They know every local landmark and become fiercely protective if any are moved or messed with (just check out ‘Feedback’ on Radio 4 if you don’t believe me); and they feel they know each other. 

“The names of listeners who write or phone regularly, stick with presenters – and other listeners can remember those names years later.  For instance, I’ve never forgotten Siobhan from Hendon, aka ‘The Duchess of North London’ or James – the young lad from Berkshire, who had more front than Blackpool and Southend put together (he’s probably in sales now) – yet I’ve heard nothing of either of them for more than twenty-five years.  Then, of course, the listener feels they know the presenter – and just occasionally, they do.

“There are elements of that in television, but it’s less intimate; less personal.  It’s one-to-many communication, rather than one-to-one.  If radio is a village, TV is a city.  When it works well, there’s still a sense of pride, of belonging, but you’re far less likely to know the neighbours personally.”

I didn’t know I thought that until I wrote it a couple of months ago; but since I put it down in writing and started talking to people about it, it’s met with a lot of recognition. 

The technology which has put ‘radio’ and ‘television’ into our hands – yours and mine – means we can now build villages or cities around our businesses.  The choice has nothing to do with size.  It’s about the ethos – especially the one-to-one versus one-to-many engagement.  Personally, I prefer to aim for a village, but what about you?

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