ADVICE ... AND CONSENT?

Time magazine recently crowed:  “We have entered a new golden age of advice.”

We beg to differ. 

Opinion-givers like Deloitte and McKinsey have prospered for years (depending on the economy), providing corporate America recommendations and hands-on work for everything from downsizing to strategy, benefits to supply chain re-jiggering. 

Individually, and for quite some time, many of us have sought career direction and personal coping ideas from not only the famed columnists but also from live chats, videos, podcasts, and one-on-one/group conversations.

One truth remains:  No matter what the reason for the help search, it’s sure difficult to figure out who’s right, who’s a bit off-kilter, and who might be in it just for glory and dollars. 

That’s where the advice (and consent) factors in.  Business wise, consultants are referred; references checked; and work scrutinized.  Beyond those preliminaries, the guidance sometimes gets a bit, well, squirrelly.  Many a company has launched a project with a brand-new Sherpa/group, finding (perhaps years later, perhaps in a few months) the relationship has gone south.

It’s happened to all of us.  Yet true advisors are not a dime a dozen; they’ve got to put your interests above theirs.  Here are a few good telling signs:

  • After one recommendation is nixed, your consultant provides two to three other options – with factual pros and cons.
  • When asked “what do you think,” your guide tells the truth (okay, it needs to be delivered with politesse).
  • Secret means secret.  And cone of silence.

We’ll open this to our readers.   What have you encountered in the advice column?

FUTURE SHOCK REVISITED

Grrrrrr …

That’s our reaction when well-intentioned marketing futurists start thinking broadly, dis-remembering some communications 101 principles.

The latest example:  The 2025 grocery store, debuting at Food Marketing Institute 2014 (the association for nearly 40,000 U.S. food retailers), sponsored by some big-name powerhouses. 

In ten years, or so the presentation goes, we’ll experience frictionless checkout (read:  a ready-to-charge-it app); micropersonalization, or the customization of products based on our purchase history; and stores that physically transform, depending on the seasons, the times of day, the weather, even traffic patterns.

All cool and not unexpected.  Many of us already swipe our smartphones at Starbucks and other foodie outlets.  Get mailings from fave stores that feature products we just bought.  And, no sleight of hand:  Watch as movable partitions and other ingenuities help merchandise the goods.

So what frosted us?  The mention of lifestyle advisors, store employees who’ll now help people shop (they’re moving on from the check-out aisle).  Why?  Because that involves a new talent profile, a huge investment in learning and development, and a positioning that – except maybe for Whole Foods and occasional store nutritionists – just doesn’t register with us.  At least right now.

Consider your most recent interaction with a supermarket clerk.  Did you ask where a certain product is shelved?  [And how many people did it take to get the answer?]  Inquire about a special order – only to wait for weeks until someone picks up the phone and says, “it’s here.”  Request a quickie course on cooking, say, a Copper River salmon versus the regular kind?  How long will it take for our helpers to respond to these shopper queries, let alone the more proactive kind?

No cynicism, just common sense:  Hey, is this a job for newly retired boomers?