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Acts of Complete Lunacy - September 2011

Time and Money

A little over 20 years ago, as I was starting a career in market research (not at Doyle Research Associates), my former boss/trainer/soul sucking, task-master (not at Doyle Research Associates) told me that market research was about time and money.  She explained that if companies had unlimited time and money, they would ask every single customer and potential customer what they thought of a product or service.  Because resources are indeed limited, companies need to talk to a representative sample and that’s where market research becomes valuable.  Looking back, I think what she meant to say was that working for her would occupy every second of my life and that she would never pay me squat.  Regardless of the definition, market research is, at its core, about time and money.

I’ve now been in the research biz for quite awhile (when you hit the 20-year mark you can say ridiculous things like “research biz.”) These days I get a chuckle from the complaints that video access to research isn’t fast enough.  Recently one of our researchers complained that it was taking over a minute to download a video clip.  (First I explained that the research technically hadn’t yet occurred in her time zone but she was undeterred. ) Then I suggested she use her smart phone to place an order and pay for a locally grown, organic, low fat, no whip, chai tea latte and the video download would be complete. I was tempted to remind her of how excited we once were when facilities could videotape groups.  The sound quality was abysmal and the video was fuzzy but darn it, we could prove to our clients that a real person suggested a microwavable roast.  In fact the video quality was so poor that I’m not sure we totally understood what a respondent was saying.  Come to think of it, perhaps they were really suggesting an inflatable ghost, which makes a bit more sense for a novelty company to produce.

These wildly creative respondents would pontificate for nearly two hours for about $10.   A client told me that she once paid respondents with an apple and the chance to get out of a blizzard for a couple of hours. I explained that while Chicago weather was wildly unpredictable, I couldn’t count on a blizzard in August.  If we offered someone an apple, they would assume it was a computer.  

Market research continues to be all about time and money.  Today, just like in 1986, we are constantly trying to figure out how to do research more quickly and for less money.  I bet 25 years from now someone else will be writing about me as the soul-sucking, task-master and I will recount the good old days when we were able to pay someone an Apple computer for their opinions.

Acts of Complete Lunacy - May 2011

Tail Wagging The Dog

I once worked for a very large company that was very serious about the budget procedure. One year our department leaders forgot to include a line item to purchase office supplies and therefore we were not allowed to order any from the company warehouse. For a full year the supply closet was empty. Not surprisingly we still had to accomplish the same amount of work. Therefore, each of us who were in possession of a company credit card would take turns procuring pens, paper and staples at the local office supply store.

As you can imagine this large company wielded huge purchasing power and had negotiated crazy low prices on office supplies. Because our department made a mistake and was banished to office supply time out, we had to forego the savings and buy supplies at a premium price. The budget masters could smugly relish in the justice that had been meted out. To them it didn’t matter that their brand of justice came at a financial cost to the company. Our department made a mistake and had to be taught a lesson.

Recently I was chatting with a friend about lunatic office procedures. My friend is a director at a very corporate acting not-for-profit organization that takes office cleanliness to a whole new level. My friend walked into the office one morning and was barraged with a whole litany of problems to solve--the type of problems that are urgent and critical. So my friend did what any competent professional would do and she set down her coat and briefcase, rolled up her proverbial sleeves and set about solving the problems. Later that day she received word that she had been “written up” for failing to hang up her coat. Her company has a strict policy against coats hastily flung over chairs.

As the VP of Operations and Finance, I absolutely love policy and procedures. And, while I’d never admit this at a party, I find the budget process exhilarating. Good procedures are necessary to good research. Good budgets are necessary to any business. But both budgets and procedures support the business. They never drive it forward. And if I ever forgot that, I’m pretty sure I would find myself unemployed.

Acts of Complete Lunacy - April 2011

Coffee Consensus

Because we expect our employees to be sharp all the time–not just when they are conducting research--we like to keep them well caffeinated. In fact, if I thought it would increase efficiency and brainpower, I might be inclined to invest in one of those misters that you see at the zoo or amusement parks, spraying coffee instead of water so we could ingest the good stuff all day long.

Of course, since something so creative might also be in defiance of OHSA, we have opted for one of those individual cup coffee makers. I would like to say that it’s because we value everyone’s individual tastes, but that wouldn’t be true. What is true is that, while we are all pretty smart, we often lack the knowledge and skill to make a decent pot of coffee, That, and the historic building where our office is located threatened us with eviction if we kept leaving on the fire hazard coffee pot all night.

Common sense would say that most of our hot beverage inclinations could be satisfied with one version of caffeinated, one decaf, and one hot tea. And if you believe that, well, you obviously haven’t met our staff. Our initial stock of three options was met with disgust and dismay. How could I expect anyone to suffer through a cup of Earl Grey tea when Lemon Lift was her favorite? The coffee was not strong enough. The coffee was too strong. It wasn’t listed as fair trade or organic and how could I possibly support inhumane coffee trading practices? How, indeed.

My first thought was to print a list of local coffee and tea purveyors that they might want to check out; but that would be in opposition to my goal of increased productivity. So, I acquiesced. We now have 47 types of coffee, tea, and hot chocolate for our staff of 10.

I guess I should have seen it coming with an office of qualitative researchers. Like the groups we conduct, consensus is rarely the reality … or the goal. If we were a quant shop or had hundreds on staff, I couldn’t accommodate everyone’s opinions and would be forced to pick the top five options—validated with statistics of course. But with our small group, I can listen to all the individual tastes and desires and do my best to accommodate. And so I have.

Coffee, anyone? We have all kinds!

Acts of Complete Lunacy - March 2011

We get it--you love cats: The trouble with online personas

Recently one of our researchers was conducting one-on-one, real-time interviews via webcam. Just before the last interview of the day, the researcher discovered an issue with the scheduled respondent. At some point in the past, the respondent, seemingly "normal"; throughout the screening and scheduling process, had set up an on-camera feline personality known as an avatar. Our technicians and researcher tried mightily to help the respondent remove the avatar but were unsuccessful. It is quite possible that her tiny kitten paws had trouble executing the necessary keystrokes--but that is just my guess. Obviously our client was offered the option of cancelling the interview and using a floater. Instead, our good-natured client decided that the interview should continue. The research team could hear the woman's voice as the cartoon cat on the screen moved its mouth. While the visual image was bizarre, the clients found value in what they heard from Miss Meow Mouth.

I started to think about whether or not an animal alter ego would be helpful in my everyday world. Perhaps when I'm feeling particularly helpful, I could post a picture of a Golden Retriever on my office door. When I am being prickly about operational procedures, I’ll dress up as a porcupine. As I am analyzing our financial reports my avatar could be a great white shark because of my razor sharp attention as I slice and dice the numbers.

The problem with using an avatar to answer for us is that we don't get to fully control the message. While there may be some common perceptions about the traits of each animal, we don't all view them in the same way. Our respondent may have been trying to communicate her playful, independent, catlike personality, but instead, we were left to wonder if she was simply a "crazy cat lady!"

We often mistake the character of the whole person based on appearance or initial interactions. Sometimes, with a measure of good humor, we can find real value when we look beyond the cartoon caricature that a person displays and listen to the whole message.

Acts of Complete Lunacy - February 2011

There are many, many parts of my job that get my heart racing. As the VP of Operations and Finance I have the great privilege of putting together yearly budgets, working on pricing models for new DRA products and writing human resources policy. Every once in awhile a part of my job entails what I like to call Acts of Complete Lunacy.

Early in my management career, certainly long before my time at DRA, I had to explain to a dockworker that daily bathing and deodorant use were not an optional part of the employee covenant.I had to explain to a buxom young woman that it was never appropriate to display her "girls" at a client meeting. Once I had to convince a telephone recruiter that I really did mean to fire her. The day after I released her from our employment, she walked into the recruiting center, gathered some screeners and headed over to an empty phone. When I inquired, she explained that she didn't agree with the firing and she was there to work.

We have a completely different culture at DRA but nonetheless every once in awhile I am still called upon to engage in Acts of Complete Lunacy. Last year we made the leap to Voice Over Internet Protocol (VOIP) for our office phone system. After our first staff meeting via conference call, I was the recipient of some pretty harsh feedback about the new phone system. Apparently with VOIP we cannot talk over each other. In other words only one person can speak at a time.

Shortly after our staff meeting I called the phone company's help desk.
Me: There is a serious problem with our phone system!
Help Desk: Oh my, what's going on?
Me: We can't interrupt each other during a conference call.
Help Desk: Why would you want to? Wouldn't that be rude?
Me: Well, sometimes we want to interject and add to the point the speaker is making.
Help Desk: If you interrupt them, how do you know they won't get to the point on their own?
Me: There are times when a person is rambling and we need to stop it.
Help Desk: What if they were just trying to get to that point you were just talking about?
Me: I don't think you understand. Our meetings need to be fast-paced and highly energetic.
Help Desk: So, your company is energized by rudeness?
Me: No, no, that is not what I’m saying! What are you, some sort of help desk Yoda? I just need you to fix our phones!
Help Desk: Ma'am is this the type of energy that usually takes place during your staff meetings?

Sometimes technology gets in the way of our civility;like when people text during a meeting or dinner. Sometimes we need technology to remind us that our colleagues have important things to say and we could all use a little more civility in our conversations.