This column examines the negative effect of managers that don't understand the business can have on a company . . .
NO VISION, NO IMAGINATION
Every good story has a villain.
The tale of the wrecking of Fairfax has, at its genesis, an evil genius so
brilliant that even today, years after he first engaged in his wrecking role,
most people have little idea of the central role he played in the subsequent,
engulfing disaster that’s finally stopping the printing-press’.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I
present the current Vice-Chancellor of NSW University, former expert management
consultant and previously (and perhaps most importantly in terms of his
importance on the Australian scene), from 1998 to 2005, the Chief Executive
Officer of John Fairfax Holdings: Professor Fred Hilmer.
If ever a business case study was
required demonstrating myopia, hubris and the failings of theory in equal
measure, then surely his tenure at the peak of the news company would hold
prominent position. Hilmer revealed a uniquely dystopian conjunction. His
personal contribution was a messianic belief in the barren logic of an
infertile, technocratic approach. It wasn’t just that he didn’t understand the
business. Instead, he persisted in an attempt to measure art by using a ruler.
“The culture (at Fairfax) was the
toughest nut to crack,” Hilmer later insisted. For once he was right.
Frustrated by the inability of editors to actually reduce ‘news’ to a formula
(like making soup, perhaps) the erstwhile Professor stood blinking and bewildered
in incomprehension at the chaos surrounding the process of manufacturing news.
But his critical blunder was lacking the insight to understand that everything
was about to change: the Internet had arrived.
By ’98 there was no lack of
understanding of the dimensions this challenge represented to print journalism.
It was blindingly obvious – even to the most ardent Luddite – that cheaper
electronic alternatives would soon overwhelm the classified advertisement
business; the “rivers of gold” that paid for the newspaper. Who was going to
bother paying for an old-fashioned print ad when they could bypass the old, slow-moving
distribution channels and directly target interested consumers on the net? But,
under Hilmer, Fairfax adopted another strategy. The company took on the
Internet directly, by out-printing it.
That’s why the Saturday papers
grew so large. It explains why so much of the paper became waste, making the
transition from newsagency to rubbish bin with barely a glance from readers.
Not surprisingly, many had little interest in the copious quantities of
classified ads bulking out the compendious editions. But once Hilmer had embarked
on this ridiculous strategy, he was apparently unable to cease. Page after page
was added; section after section; until wrestling with the paper required a
black-belt in Tae Kwon Do.
Hilmer didn’t understand the most
vital principle of journalism. The news isn’t about inclusion: it’s all about
selection. Reporting is all about stripping away the cacophony of noise
surrounding an event to reveal the pure sound of a clear note. This carries the
individual story and allows it to uncover what’s important. Editing is the same.
It was the stories Fairfax rejected that made Fairfax the best. Journalism is
not about producing more and more; it’s about providing an audience with what
they want, and need, to know. The most important stories, recounted in the most
interesting way. It’s something Hilmer never understood.
Others were at fault too, of
course, including the journalists and editors who failed to convince him that
there is more to the media than profit centres, productivity measurements and
the simplistic calculus of the profit and loss. Nevertheless, and although it’s
taken more than a decade of further compounding mistakes and contributory
negligence, the flaws from his period in control have now widened into
crevasses.
He couldn’t discover an answer
because he didn’t love the news. Journalism is at the centre of our cultural
life. It’s all about telling stories about who we are – not about making money.
He attempted to apply a mechanistic discipline to a living organism. He failed,
but left a crippling burden.
Hilmer departed Fairfax in ignominy.
At his next job his pay-packet halved to (just) $750,000, but nonetheless he still
left with a payout of $4.5 million. The journalists were thrilled to see him
go. They feasted on sashimi from a ‘farewell party’ that was hurriedly
cancelled when staff threatened to crash it and let Hilmer know exactly what they
really thought of his management insights. But it was all too late. The die was
cast.
Could it have been different? Well,
not everyone shared his lack of enthusiasm for change. Mark Scott also worked
for Fairfax, at the same time. He moved on to become the ABC’s Managing
Director a year after Hilmer departed. Now the Corporation still has many problems
but at least Scott has attempted to grapple with challenges in the new media environment,
embracing opportunities as diverse as Twitter and iview. Of course it’s not possible to compress anything worthwhile
saying into a tweet (apart from, perhaps, the strongest and most enduring sentiment
of all; “I love you”) nonetheless, there’s courage in making the attempt. And
it’s critical for our society that we find a way to make sure this mutual
conversation continues.
Common endeavours depend upon a
shared dialogue. This is provided through the media. Without it we are reduced
to anomie. Individuals become alienated and atomised, reduced to our functions:
working and consuming. The ‘content’ of journalism represents much more than
just simple ‘product’. It speaks to us, telling us who we are and what we want
to be. It is the binding that ties us together in a community.
Today Fairfax publishes this
newspaper and the company is not dead – despite the burden of the legacy I’ve
been bemoaning at length. Management is charting a path forward for the
Canberra Times, Age and Sydney Morning Herald. News Limited has also announced
it is slashing costs and is engaged in restructuring. The industry is on the
ropes. A new media landscape will emerge and some things will improve. But make
no mistake; the media outlets we end up with will define our future.
A healthy, vibrant society cannot
be created instantaneously, 140 characters at a time. There is a role for the
immediate, but it’s a vapidly superficial one. It can’t compete with deeper
analysis or provide a detailed picture of events, exploring motivations and
consequences. This is what the printed word does so well. There’s time for
reflection and thought. We will always manage to find a way of relating who did
what to whom, when, where and how. But assisting readers to discover ‘why’
something has occurred is the most precious insight of all. Unless people can
be led to an understanding of the elemental forces provoking an event, they
will be right to feel short-changed.
The story goes that Hilmer ran Fairfax through a speadsheet derived perhaps from his experiences at AGSM. He also sent an email to all staff inviting comments to him about the situation at Fairfax but one fellow who responded to him and was promptly reprimanded by other managers for doing so...
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