“Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.”
Albert Einstein

Adopting undeserved gravitas by quoting one of history’s great intellectuals? Textbook bloggery, that is. Fortunately, it’s also apposite to the point in question. Our old friend ‘engagement’.

I recently stumbled across this article on RI5. ‘Engagement’ has become the bon mot of choice for HR professionals – and, by some happy coincidence, it’s also become the focus of all kind of highfalutin research. The overwhelming conclusion seems to be that engagement is A Good Thing. Sounds right. Better than being disengaged, almost certainly.

Which is fortunate because, according to the aforementioned article based on a recent study, “job satisfaction has been overtaken in importance by employee engagement”. Say it ain’t so!

(At his point, I suppose I should define ‘job satisfaction’ and ‘employee engagement’. The authors haven’t but this is doubtless basic stuff. By inference, I’d say that job satisfaction means being happy with your specific role plus the goodies that go with it, while ‘employee engagement’ is being happy with your employer and the overall experience they provide. That seems to be the gist.)

But how do you separate the two? Are they seriously suggesting there’s no interaction between how much we enjoy our jobs and how much we enjoy the overall job experience? How can you possibly measure them as discrete variables? I think we both know the answer to that, dear reader.

The article goes further: “There’s also evidence that it’s possible to maintain levels of engagement irrespective of actual ‘satisfaction’”. Why, this is excellent news! Can’t afford to give your staff a decent pay rise? Don’t worry, just engage them. Sorting out a better personal development strategy too taxing? Nothing engagement can’t fix. All this time we’ve been getting too hung up how much people enjoy their actual jobs. Think big picture, people. Sheesh.

It’s not long before the mask slips. Apparently a key case study from a leading law firm “revealed the organisation’s intention to shift its focus internally away from employee satisfaction in favour of employee engagement”. A noble intent, surely. Perhaps not: “If nothing else, it leads to better scores in employee surveys!” <Titanic sigh>.

This last line reveals the big flaw in all this. Not the cynicism of the sentiment, but the danger that always presents itself when you try and abstract human emotions into mathematical absolutes – that the figures are the real world as opposed to a very limited approximation thereof.

You wouldn’t mistake a rough sketch on piece of paper for a living breathing person, would you? But that’s exactly what these studies ask us to do. Back to Einstein. People’s feelings definitely count. But, when it comes to counting them, they can be a right bugger.

That’s not to say applying scientific rigour to these questions is not valuable. It’s just that so many of these studies are neither scientifically rigorous nor provide any valuable insights. One way or another, they all arrive at the same core conclusion: people are motivated at work by more than just their day-to-day job and salary. Notice I didn’t ask you to sit down or check if you were of a nervous disposition.

Much like the siren simplicity of research data, the ubiquity of the term ‘engagement’ may be obscuring a more practical truth: that you don’t ‘engage’ people. You provide them with the best possible employee experience in every area. Whether that engages them or not is entirely their decision. Count on it.

Here’s a random thought. Despite being lauded as empowering people around the world as never before, is the web really a boon to those we little guys refer to as The Establishment?

The thought occurred when reading a comment posted on the BBC Business blog. The author was expressing his mystification at the lack of civil unrest manifested during the continual drip-feed of new and ever more gobsmacking revelations concerning the demise of the public coffers. (By which I mean the artist formerly known as the credit crunch ft. the global financial services industry.)

It’s true. If this had happened thirty years ago, you can imagine mobs taking to the street, mass public sector walkouts, the Chancellor being artfully dismembered and stuffed ironically into his little red attaché case, etc, etc.

Where the heck has all this bracing revolutionary vigour gone? The internet, that’s where.

Option a – Spend ages making a homemade banner that strikes just the right balance of  informed outrage and grassroots grammar. Then venture out into the cold and spend eight hours risking gentle encouragement at the end of a policeman’s baton.

Option b – Make a brew, fire up the laptop and launch some military grade sarcasm on message boards. Pause periodically to sign up to the latest online petition or join the ‘I’m for the equitable redistribution of wealth, ideally on a ‘to’ rather than ‘from’ basis’ Facebook group.

For obvious reasons, it seems people these days are far more inclined to plump for the latter. Here’s the problem: it’s substantially easier to ignore virtual vitriol than a banana stuffed vigorously up your Beamer’s exhaust pipe.

The author would like to make it crystal clear that he is entirely content with his position of insignificant grist in the global mill. He would like to personally reassure Them that this harmless thought exercise is – in the parlance of internet threat policing systems – a false positive.

Being the new kid is never easy. So it was with both glee and trepidation that, after four years as a technology PR, I became the latest writer on WMW’s Creative team.

I knew from the start that, given my background, the learning curve would be a steep one. However, it has so far surprised me to discover that:

-          As a ‘Creative’, I am allowed – nay, expected – to wear jeans to the office. Result.

-          Art Directors talk to themselves. Or maybe that’s just Mark.

-          Spotify-master (and, I suppose, web developer) Thom enjoys Lionel Ritchie’s Dancing on the Ceiling almost as much as I do.

-          The office spaniel doesn’t yet care to be my friend.

But, in spite of these revelations, the way WMW works is not entirely unfamiliar to me.

You see, contrary to popular opinion, PR isn’t actually about spin and baby-kissing photo shoots. It’s not about massaging figures and twisting the truth. Or, rather, good PR isn’t about that. It’s about getting to the very core of a message, and finding the best way to communicate it to the people who need and want to hear it.

And this is exactly what the WMW team does. Employer marketing isn’t just about making your training handbooks look pretty, or your office walls look nice (although, fortunately, that does tend to happen during the process). It’s about finding out exactly what your business needs to say to its people, and saying it in the most effective and inspiring way. It’s just that, at WMW, this tends not to be via a survey in the Daily Mail.

In all seriousness, I’ve a great deal to learn. (Only last week, after a lengthy briefing in which Grant tasked me with writing some DM copy, I responded to his ‘Any questions?’ with: ‘What’s a DM?’) I’ve also yet to work out where the decaf teabags live, and what Nick actually means when he says ‘don’t moonwalk on your own carpet’. But, for me, getting to the heart of this employer marketing malarkey will be interesting – and kinda fun.

People have a natural tendency towards anthropomorphism. Do what now? It simply means ascribing human attributes to non-humans. An extreme example would be the craze for pet rocks back in the 70s. A more prosaic one would be giving your car a nickname.

A friend of mine once made the mistake of buying a Suzuki Samurai. He would regularly resort to exhorting/coaxing/begging/threatening his underpowered steed “Hercules” to maintain momentum over a gentle hillock. I digress.

Commercial brands tap into this need to see the world in human terms. I’ll let you into a little secret. Shreddies are not really lovingly knitted by sweet old grannies. Ribena berries do not actually bounce enthusiastically into the bottle with a joyous squeal. That’s a silly suggestion. <Gazes at you incredulously>. They’re just fruit.

But, understandably, organisations feel us humble consumers will look more favourably on their product if it conjures up these comforting scenes rather than the less romantic reality of a factory production line.

The problem comes when brands try and cross what we might like to call the Credibility Gap. Ribena is a fruity drink for kids. It’s carefree, whimsical personality fits that positioning pretty neatly. But I’m not sure the same character would sit quite as comfortably with, say, my pension provider.

That doesn’t stop organisations trying to be something they’re patently not. Gorgeous, young, free spirits doing gorgeous, young, free-spirited things to an achingly cool soundtrack used to be strictly the province of certain mobile phone companies. These days, the pay-off logo is as likely to be a bank. Everyone’s a lifestyle brand.

But they’re not, are they? It’s just not credible, is it? I’m not sure it’s even particularly desirable. I don’t want the guardians of my hard-earned capital to be funny, cute or care-free. Po-faced, humourless and responsible is just fine by me.

Let’s wrap up with a practical tip: keep your eyes peeled for the Credibility Gap in everyday communications too. There’s no less effective way to ‘sell’ an idea than to blow it up out of all proportion. That new employee self service system you’re about to launch? It’s pretty handy. It does not, however, ‘usher in the dawn of an exciting new era that will revolutionise the way we live and work for the better’.

Three words to sum up 400? Keep it real.

Here’s an email you might find controversial. It’s from our good selves to (what we can only assume is) a former client. We’ll call him Mr Y for reasons that will become apparent.  Give it a read:

Dear Mr Y

I am going to be frank as I believe that we know each other sufficiently well.

Richard

The reason we’ve posted it is to pose a question: Are relationships with agencies purely transactional or genuine partnerships?

On the one hand, you wouldn’t expect Amazon to express their personal dismay if you transferred your retail affections to Play. Each purchase is its own self-contained moment of union. When it’s done, it’s done. Until the next time, if there is one.

On the other, agencies have a greater personal connection with the organisations they work with. We tend to fall a little bit in love with our clients’ brands (‘we’ being all agencies, not just WMW). We buy their products, advocate their services and defend their decisions. We all want to believe that what we do matters, after all.

So, putting aside the decision to leave us for another (be still our broken heart, but it’s clearly their prerogative), should we expect a gracious fare thee well? Or are we just being precious?

N.B. Just to be clear, this blog post is now over. Ta ta.

Spotted by Matt on his way to an office branding install.

Being a Creative Director means having a set of mantras that allow you to pretend there is some kind of codified science behind what we do. One of mine is:

‘Execution is easy. Ideas are hard.’

Having seen this, I might rethink it.

P.S. To be fair to whoever bodged it, our Art Directors won’t let me near the cutting area either.