I am
an MBA
a design student
but not a designer (or am I?)
a brand strategist
a project manager
a lady geek
a blogger
a writer
an ex tech-consultant
an ex management consultant
an alumna
And that's without even going into the personal labels I stick to myself (or get stuck on me). Labels make it easy to talk to people. "I'm an MBA from LBS" seems to open some doors or at least explain in a concise way what I am. "I'm a postgrad at Central St Martin's" usually opens other doors (weird how you say MBA from LBS but not MA from CSM). And sometimes even mentioning you're a blogger works magic! But at the same time, these labels make me feel uneasy sometimes, especially when others refer to them (or when I do) in a way that excludes another one. I feel like that a lot when it comes to business suits versus designers/creatives. Somehow there's this perception that that's an either/or situation. Either you're a suit, and bureacratic and a management-speak spouting, tailored suit wearing MBA, or you're a woolly creative, dressed in all black and sporting blackrimmed glasses, talking about negative space. I'm a bit lost I think. Where do I fit in? I haven't worn a suit in years, and gave up glasses about 8 years ago. Is being both a suit and a designer a compromise that is the lowest common denominator of both and thus a bad thing. Or does it mean I can do both, and both reasonably well I hope, and that's a good thing?
Interesting to see that this labelling happens on all sides of the fence. MBAs think designers are as weird as designers think MBAs are aliens. So maybe that's what I am. Weird AND and alien!
Every Friday, round about 4 pm, work at our offices stops for about 20 minutes, and we have our Friday Afternoon Tea and Cake Break. It's an institution. Well, it's on its way to becoming an institution. See, our offices are a 5 minute walk from Borough Market so cakes are in easy supply. Couple that with a strong belief on my side that work isn't all about work, et voila, Friday Cake Break was born. We make a nice cuppa, have a piece of cake (every week a different one) and chat. About everything under the sun, except for work. A colleague recently asked why I was so obsessed by cakes. I'm not. Don't get me wrong, I love a nice piece of cake as much as the next girl, but it's Friday Cake Break is not about the cake. Yet it couldn't work without the cake. But it soooo not about the cake. It's about making work more human and dare I say it, more fun.
So what am I trying to say? Work should be more fun. It should be about interacting with human beings, who have their own pet peeves and hobby horses. It should on occasion be silly, sad, fun and dramatic. When did we start separating work and life? I shudder when people ask if I am any different at work than I am outside it. Ehm. No. Decidedly not. I tried that for a while in my twenties, it made me frightfully unhappy and I think also crappier at my work. I can't and won't turn myself off between 9am and 6pm. And I don't think anyone should. There is a difference between colleagues and friends, between clients and buddies, and my behaviour takes that into account, but I am the same person. I have good days and bad, and love to laugh. And stop every now and then, have a nice cuppa and piece of cake and talk about what movies are good, or what books, or who's good on Idols (although I must admit, I don't have a TV, so when the conversation rolls that way, I listen more than I speak... actually I should do more of that in general, listen more than speak).
It's all about the cake. But it's never about the cake.
'Everything else is designed for you to throw away when you are finished with it. But where is “away”? Of course, “away” doesn't really exist. “Away” has gone away.' (Cradle to Cradle)
Don't throw it away. There is no away. [seen on a painting at London Art Fair, can't remember what the artist name was]
I think this was one of the quotes that most impressed me from a book I recently read called Cradle to Cradle (McDonough / Braungart). Impress might not be the right word. It blew me away (well, there is no away, but you get my drift). I had never thought about it this way. There is no away. Just because I throw it out, doesn't mean it disappears into thin air.
The book really got me thinking about sustainability and the environment and that kinda jazz. And that automatically leads to feeling guilty and bad. We know we're doing the wrong thing, but I don't want to be told what I'm doing wrong constantly. That's what I think from a marketing perspective is the biggest problem with all things green: they make me feel bad. Guilty. And that ain't making me wanting to grab my purse. Not really.
In the book, the authors phrase it like this:
'Instead of providing an inspiring and exciting vision for change, conventional environmental approaches focus on what NOT to do... Like our ancestors, we may react automatically, with terror and guilt, and we may look for ways to purge ourselves -- which the eco-efficiency movement provides in abundance, with its exhortations to produce and consume less by minimizing, avoiding, reducing and sacrificing... The goal is zero: zero waste, zero emissions, zero 'ecological footprint'. As long as human beings are regarded as bad 'zero' is a good goal. But to be less bad is to accept things as they are, to believe that poorly designed, dishonorable, destructive systems are the BEST humans can do. This is the ultimate failure of the 'be less bad' approach: a failure of the imagination.' (Cradle to Cradle)
Hurrah. Less bad is a failure of the imagination. Less bad is dead. Let's go for good. I love good. Good makes me feel good. It makes me want to buy it, sell it, flog it, advertise it, engage with it, and share it.
One of the ideas I liked best in the book was the idea of products as a service:
'Instead of assuming that all products are to be bought, owned, and disposed of by “consumers”, products containing valuable technical nutrients - cars, televisions, carpeting, computers, and refrigerators for example - would be reconceived as services for people to enjoy. In this scenario customers (a more apt term for the users of these products) would effectively purchase the service of such a product for a defined user period.' (Cradle to Cradle)
Wow, so how cool is this? You don't buy a washing machine as a product, but as a service. In 5 years time I will return it to the manufacturer who will take it apart and make new products from it. Now THAT is an idea you can sell. Marketers, innovators, CEO's of the world: here's a disruptive business model. Right there. Think of car sharing services such as Zipcar or Streetcar. Or the Velib scheme in Paris. Products are dead. Long live the product as a service.
And finally, to close, here's what the Cradle to Cradle guys say (and they are so much more eloquent than I am):
'Should manufactures or existing products feel guilty about their complicity in this heretofore destructive agenda? Yes. No. It doesn't matter. Insanity has been defined as doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. Negligence is described as doing the same thing over and over even though you know it's dangerous, stupid or wrong. Now that we know, it's time for a change. Negligence starts tomorrow.'
[edit 15/03: just found a TED talk by one of the authors of Cradle to Cradle, William McDonough, check it out here.]
Dear Mr Amex,
A while ago I took out travel insurance with you. I think to both our satisfaction: you get money and a traveler who has last claimed something on travel insurance at least 15 years ago, and I get peace of mind and what at the time was a good deal with a well-respected brand so I can sleep at night when I'm off jet-setting through Europe. So far, so good.
Today I came home to find you've sent me a renewal letter. Thanks for that. I kinda like the automatic renewal thing, saves me hassle. But here's something I don't understand (and I'm quoting from your letter):
"We have recently launched a new range of travel products and introduced a change to our pricing structure, based on age and geographical area. Additional options and discounts are now available too, which might make one of these new products more suitable for you. To find out more, please call 0800 XXXXX, otherwise we will renew your existing policy."
Oh. Old skool marketing. You are teasing me with (potential) discounts, won't tell me what they are or provide a way to figuring out more information about them (would it kill you to put in a website address?), but have me call you instead (at which point you will no doubt try and cross-sell me something) which means effort on my side to get something which I feel you are teasing me with but am unclear about what it is exactly. I know I'm not in your books as a top 1,000 customer. Or even a top 10,000. But I am a customer. And I love feeling special. Doesn't everyone? And to be really frank, I find this a little bit weird. And old skool. And a tad cold. It makes me feel like a bit of an idiot. And I don't like that feeling. It makes me want to write angry blogposts.
See, you could've done it differently. You could've said: 'thank you for being a valued customer, we trust you had a good year of travel and are looking forward to you staying with us for another year. In fact, we've been doing some tweaking of our policies and prices, and based on your personal data, we think you might be eligible for a discount. I have included a page which compares the policies side by side (you can also find all the information about the prices here on the internet: {include http address} and in the leaflets included in this envelope. We would love to discuss these options with you at your earliest convenience and are happy to change the policy accordingly if you decide that is to your best interest. If you would like to speak to one of our reps, please call at 0800 XXXX or email XXX quoting reference YYYY. If we don't hear from you, we assume that you are happy to renew your current policy as is, which we'd be more than happy to do.'
Lessons: think about me (i.e. the customer) first. Then you. Think how you can make my life easier, not just yours and it will come back to you in spades. It breeds loyalty. Open a conversation, don't just talk at me. Don't speak in riddles or overly formal language. Although the whole 2.0 thing is so 2005, I think this is a case where the term Marketing 2.0 comes in, and it's here to stay.
And yes, I know about how hard it is to change complicated IT systems and management structures that send out these letters, that you have thousands of clients and you can't treat all of them well (in fact, some of them you probably want to be a little bit rude too, because they don't make you any money and you'd rather they'd wander off to another company), that it will cost a lot of money to send out a more personal letter and you've probably paid a copy-writer a lot of money to write this letter, then had it copy-tested and everything. That ain't no excuse. You can do better than this. If you don't, someone else will. Even for something as commodity-like as travel insurance. I want to like you. I like your advertising. I like the American Express brand. But you have to work harder.
Yours,
Natasja
[full disclosure: so yes, I do have Amex insurance. I even have a credit card with them. And yes, I did once interview (back in the phase of my life where I felt that if I didn't do at least one milkround interview my bschool experience would be a waste) and I didn't get the offer. Which was probably just as well, for both of us :-) , no hard feelings about that at all. ]
I'm a not a generalist. Now you say, there's nothing wrong with that. And there isn't. See, generalists are like this:
If you're not a generalist, you're a specialist, like this:
But I'm not a specialist either. I don't know enough to be a specialist in anything really. So, maybe I'm a T-shaped generalist? Knows a lot about one particular subject, and also has a wide general knowledge. Getting warmer.
See, I know a little about a lot of subjects (I have a head for useless facts, figures and stats. And lyrics. Don't ask me why, i haven't been able to find a job where either comes in handy yet. And I'm an information junkie, too.). But I also know somewhat more than a little about a few subjects. Enough for non-specialists in that subject to see me as a specialist. So I propose a new model: the icicle generalist.
The icicle generalist knows a little about a lot, and a lot about a selected few things. And in my case, those selected few things are not always related: I know a thing or two about book history, a few things about business, and am learning about design. It's fun being an icicle generalist, but hard if you're trying to find a job. My CV is pretty hard to sell. Most companies want a coherent story (which in my case is hard to make) for either a generalist (think management development programs) or a specialist (think more hardcore finance roles for instance). So now I need to figure out how to make a coherent story for knowing a little about a lot and somewhat more about a little. For being an icicle generalist.
[yes, those are drawings. My own drawings. The strangest thing is starting to happen, I'm starting to draw ideas and concepts versus just putting them in words. The designers around me are rubbing off on me!]
I owe this post to my mum. My wonderful, brave and sweet mum (she's going to hate me for this). Without her I wouldn't have written this.
As some of you might have noticed I've been a bit quiet recently. Now I know you're not supposed to apologize for that being a good blogger and all, and I don't know how many of you really care (I suspect most people just want to know how to get into LBS, and frankly don't care much now that I'm an alumna). Mum asked tonight whether I was too busy to write. I said yes. And then no. I mean, I've been busy before, that's usually not an excuse not to write. Something else has been bugging me and until I get those thoughts out in a coherent way, I am kinda blocked from writing anything else. And although I don't know if I've figured out a coherent way to convey these thoughts, I thought I might as well give it a try. So bear with me. And apologies in advance if I sound fuzzy. I am much more 'fuzzed out' than anyone else I suspect.
These past few weeks a number of things have happened in my life that have made me think. I went to a reception where the new Dean at London Business School, Robin Buchanan spoke. He's very competent. His speech was exactly what you'd expect to hear. And that left me feeling a tad disappointed. That vague sort of rumbling in your tummy kinda disappointed. Is competent (which he beyond doubt is) good enough? I'm not sure it is. I have higher hopes. I want inspiring. I want a bigger vision than what he had to offer. Am I impatient? Impractical? People have told me that all MBAs want are good jobs anyway. I don't buy that. At all. Granted, I don't think I'm your bog-standard typical MBA. But then again, not a whole lot of MBAs are in my experience. Are we all this cynical that we don't believe in inspiration? In something which is greater than ourselves and will last longer than any material possessions we can't take to our grave anyway? I don't believe it. So here's to inspiration. Let's have more of it. Screw cynicism.
At the same time, we had our big group presentation at MADS. Our team was given the assignment to prepare a 45-60 min presentation on the concept of Ubuntu ('shared humanity' for those of you not fluid in Zulu) and how badly designers need it. I had expected another group project; we used to crank 'em out faster and harder than a Ford assembly line in the MBA. I started of with a little trepidation, how would I work with this new group and would we be able to crack it on time? And aren't all designers frightfully disorganised (the answer to that one is no)? The project quickly grew to something bigger than just a classroom project. I'd never really thought about sustainability (which is the angle of shared humanity we decided to take). Not beyond what I suspect most people know about it. I recycle paper and glass, have seen Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth and was appropriately cycnical about it (as you would expect a good MBA to be) but also strangely touched, which lasted for about as long as it took to walk over to the pub afterwards and get a drink. I know global warming is happening, and think someone should fix it. I know about the Millenium Goals and think governments should work hard to make them a reality. It's all about someone doing something about it. Until I realised one day that I think I might be going about it in the wrong way. 'Someone should fix it'. 'Someone'. So who is this someone? It would have to be someone in a position of power. Running a company. Or a designer who can design more sustainable products. Then it hit me. That's me. *swear alert* Bloody hell, that's me. I AM that person. I have an MBA from one of the top schools in the world. I'm currently taking a degree from one of the world's best design schools and I'm looking to SOMEONE to fix it? I should be fixing it. If I don't, then who the heck will?
And then what happened? I don't know. I feel I'm at a point in my life where I can't go back. To being cynical and hoping someone else will fix things. But I'm not sure what to do. Or how to go about it. What if I do something and make things inadvertedly worse? Could and should I have made different work-choices (don't get me wrong, I love my job, but is branding and design going to change the world? Is that even important?)? All this is making me antsy, edgy and frustrated. With all my degrees and knowledge and experience, what exactly am I doing to make the world a better place?
Right. At least I've said it out loud now. There you have it. Now let me see what I can do to find a solution. Because there has to be one. I'll report back on when I find it.
We haven't met yet in the flesh. In fact, I don't think we've met at all (I don't suspect you're an avid blog-reader, although for all I know you could be). Allow me to introduce myself and take 5 minutes of your time. I know a million alumns probably want to do that, so I'll be brief.
My name is Natasja and I'm a fresh alumn, an MBA2007 and I love LBS. I bleed LBS if you prick me. I spent more hours at our lovely buildings that I even care to acknowledge, I happily took out a whopping loan, sold my house and everything in it just so I could come here; I write about it constantly (see the archives on the right), and tell everyone who wants to listen, and a few people that really don't want to listen, about how wonderful LBS is.
I'm glad that I'm not the only one who thinks LBS is a kick-a** place (excuse my French). The FT thinks that apart from Wharton (who, by the way, waitlisted me, and then I dinged them) we're the most fabulous fulltime MBA around. Hurrah. Well done.
But doing well in the rankings, which is a good thing albeit not the holy grail some applicants make it out to be, is also posing a problem. To be more specific: it's our vision that's the issue for me. LBS's vision is 'to be the pre-eminent global business school'. We're number two now. With a bit of luck and effort we'll be number 1. And then what happens? We've accomplished our vision. I spend my days as a brand strategy consultant telling our clients that your vision should be aspirational. It should inspire and motivate. And frankly, ours is not doing that for me. To be pre-eminent? Why? I just don't think it's big enough to be honest. Not bold enough. Why do we want to be the world's pre-eminent b-school? What's the purpose of being number 1? I think we should think bigger, bolder and better. Somewhere towards 'the next generation of business leaders'. Something with changing the world. Hopefully for the better. But a bit more than just being number 1. This is not a pissing match (excuse my French yet again), this is about our future. And I want to be part of a school which aspires to more than just be number 1.
Right, that's what I had to say. At least for now. I realise you must get tons of unsolicited advice and not all of it very constructive. So I hope this was. We're all very happy and excited you joined us as our Dean and have high expectations of your leadership. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help,
Yours, with warmest regards,
Natasja
MBA2007
PS Yes, I do this for a living, this vision-mission-values stuff. But this was not a pitch. It's just my personal opinion.
In the last two weeks I was approached by two different people asking me if I was interested in what they had to flog/sell/recommend. Being still very much in the frugal mindset (my job's fab, but unfortunately my salary, though well above the average UK income, doesn't cover much more than a student lifestyle, my exorbitant loan repayments and part-time tuition fees) I said yes to both opportunities. So this post comes with a disclaimer: it was completely and utterly sparked by PR.
First up, the nice folks at Mixxmaker. Got a nice email (which landed in my spamfolder, but was personal and very friendly) about the software, on account of me having written about mixtapes before I think. Checked out the website, kinda liked it, but didn't feel the need to tinker with it to my own surprise. Normally I kinda like fooling around with new software. But this one I just wasn't tempted. And I couldn't figure out why. I like the idea, the execution looks ok as far as I can tell, and the approach via email was friendly. Then I realized why. It has nothing to do with Mixxmaker (which I recommend you check out if you have an affinity for this kind of thing), but everything with my reasons for making mixtapes. I use my iTunes and Youtube (combined with delicious) for my musical needs and to make playlists. And I listen to Last.fm online. Most of my friends don't have the same musical taste than me, and I have very rarely shared music with them in terms of swapping it. I just don't feel the urge to make 'em. But I love the idea of mixtapes from a nostalgic point of view. And from a curiosity point of view (What ever happened to them? Why did people make them 20 years ago, why would you do so now?). But I don't feel the need to make one myself.
Secondly, the folks at Hill and Knowlton sent me (and probably half the MBA blogosphere) an email (like they did to Fran) about a new report they're publishing on corporate reputations and MBA recruitment. First a quick comment about the design (occupational hazard nowadays) and in particular about the highlights and circled remarks: I'm not bowled over. Don't circle and highlight what you think is relevant, please. It's irritating. I want to make my own highlights and yours make mine disappear. It's a clever trick, but please nice folks at H&K, tell your design agency to stop it. Secondly, the report is interesting if you're an applicant, or a new HR person in a company that regularly recruits or wants to recruit MBA's. If you're an MBA at these schools, an alumn, or a cynic, there's a high 'no-sh*t-Sherlock' feel. Quote:
MBA students are most likely to cite opportunities for career advancement, renumeration and benefits, and challenging work as key factors when looking for work after graduation.
Right. So MBA's want to know when they'll be CEO's, how much will end up in their bank account at the end of every month and how likely they are to be able to brag about their jobs to their peers. That's not news methinks. Another thing that slightly surprised me was that as far as I can tell they surveyed current students. Research (I wish I could find the reference now) has shown that humans are not very good at predicting what they will want in the future. That's why we make New Year's resolutions. We think we will get up every morning an hour early to go to the gym, but in reality we don't. So it would be interesting to compare in this type of research between what students want, and what they end up with. I don't want to be too harsh though, it is a well-researched report, and I can't blame H&K for putting it out. Sometimes even the obvious needs to be stated. And who knows, maybe I'm the only one for who most of this stuff seems quite obvious. Judge for yourself, you can read it here.
After writing all this I'm a little bit shocked with myself. What's with the morosity (is that a word? is it 'moroseness'?)? Am I in a bad mood? Hmmm. Not really. Actually, I'm doing quite well and am quite happy. Work's interesting and busy, study is interesting and busy, private life is interesting and busy. But maybe there's the snag. All three are a tad too interesting and busy when combined. I'm tired and a little worn out. I haven't gotten round to emailing a bunch of folks who've emailed me. And to top it all off I'm writing this instead of emailing them. I don't see enough of some of my friends and I don't nearly talk enough with my mum, dad and brother. I need a little holiday I think. Time to plan something.
It's kinda hard to miss it's nearly Christmas if you're living in the Western Hemisphere and you're leaving the house at the moment. I for one am looking forward to going home for Christmas, help my mum cook, celebrate a belated Sinterklaas and spend time with my family and friends that I don't see nearly as often as I would like to.
In this season of unbridled shopping (I'm actively avoiding going into central London on weekends, the tourist-shopping-crowds are horrendous... I love you, dear tourists, but please don't stop in the middle of the street to take a picture and then get cross if a bus honks at you, carry a tube map with you (pick up a free one from any tube station) but don't stop and read it right at the entrance of Leicester Square station, and please please please remember that there's a reason why all the Londoners stand on the right hand side of the escalator. Oh, I had no idea I had all this pent-up frustration in me. Mental note to self: remember you were a tourist once and made these mistakes. And many more. Multiple times. I think I must be turning into a proper Londoner, they (or should I say 'we') like nothing more than to moan about tourists. All this as an aside.) I'm not trying to go nuts.
After that rant, something more in keeping with the spirit of the season. No, don't worry, I won't sing, you're probably right in guessing that my voice needs a little bit more practicing in showers.
For some strange reason that I can't quite fathom myself, I've become quite the activist lately. There's a lot wrong with this world and I'm sick of being apathetic about it. Sick and tired. So slowly but surely I'm trying to right a few small wrongs. I've bought carbon-offsetting for all my flights for 2007 and intend to do so for 2008 too (amazingly, it costs very little too). I've written to British Airways to ask if they could offer carbon offsetting with their booking procedure (right before the annoying 'do you want a hotel' advert they display), have written to Eurostar asking if they can offer competitively priced one-stop tickets to any Dutch stations (as they do for the Belgian stations) so it becomes more financially viable to travel to NL in a carbon-neutral way, I've signed a bunch of petitions (asking to ban styrofoam, to get the Climate Change bill accepted in the House of Commons (x2) amongst others), made a micro-loan through Kiva. Not enough to save the planet, or make a big difference, but maybe my small actions will add up to something bigger. And I'd rather do something small than nothing at all.
I'm trying to be less evil. The world has enough evil, apathy and cynicism in it. Time for some kindness. I believe that if we all do a little bit, lots of little bits will ad up to a lot (consider compounded interest for the (would-be) MBA's). I realise that sometimes it doesn't feel like that, and it's easy to become cynical and find flaws in anything and anyone who's trying to make this world a better place. I'm not saying become a happy-clappy-noncritical person. All I'm saying is that this is our world. We are the people we've been waiting for to change the world. Now go and do it. And if that seemingly selfless aspect of it doesn't convince you, consider this: all research into happiness shows that helping others gives you a huge sense of happiness and wellbeing. If you need some inspiration to make this world a little bit of a better place, check out these resources:
* Change the World for a Fiver (book) and the accompanying website
* The Everyday Activist (book) and the accompanying website and blog
* UnLtd, a London organisation that supports social entrepreneurship
* Room to Read, a charity close to my heart, with a mission of educating children
* Kiva, become a investor
* Freecycle your unwanted stuff
* Plant a tree
* Perform random acts of kindness
* Smile at the people around you
* Give to your favourite charity
My plans for 2008: do more good, be less evil.
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