Showing posts with label innovation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label innovation. Show all posts

Monday, April 7, 2014

Innovation requires communication. The case of the reverse twisting buzznut.

   When I was in my third year of university I decided to launch a business wherein students would submit a resume to my database (pre-Internet) and I would in turn market their resumes to companies based on their selection criteria. Not a wildly different model from Monster.com or other career sites today.

   There was just one problem. In 1985, there weren't a whole lot of people thinking about databases, there was no Monster.com to compare myself to, and in general few people understood what I was talking about. Thus the innovation dilemma. Great to have a new idea, but people don't generally buy things that they don't understand.

   Fast forward a year, I was out of money and patience (not that either were especially abundant previously) and simply folded up my tent and went on to other things. But the lesson of those days did remain. When you invent or present the world with a new idea, you better be able to very simply explain the concept, because people aren't going to hang around for a class on the subject. 

   The easiest explanations are those that allow the audience to reference an existing idea. If, for instance, I mentioned that I had an amazing new type of donut, you'd have an image and usefulness in your mind already. It might not be exactly what I was doing, but it would likely be close. But if I said I had a reverse twisting buzznut to help with your laundry, you'd be understandably in need of further information.

   The reverse twisting buzznut might be awesome and filled with benefits. But until the potential buyers understand the product sufficiently to become "actual" buyers your cash is going out the window. The idea will only make it when someone emerges with the resources and skills to get the message out effectively. 

  If you happen to be an innovator, you must also be a communicator, or have access to one. In most instances it would be best if it is a different person. The innovator/inventor inherently understands the product/service, and that's not usually a great starting point for explaining it to others. 

  Without communication, innovation will languish in isolation. A lonely reverse twisting buzznut sitting dusty on the shelf.

   

   

Monday, March 3, 2014

Get the Myopia Out of Your Ear.

   Is it important to listen? You betcha. But listening is a 101 level skill. Listening alone isn't nearly a world class skill. It is the foundation of a larger skill we'll call "Creative and Open-Minded Listening". Perhaps the difference is apparent. But just in case it's not, here are two imaginary examples of listening gone awry...

   An astute Native American repeatedly refined the bow and arrow based upon feedback from his customers. He continually tested new versions of the latest bow and arrow technology, and based on that information he consistently produced unparalleled bow and arrow quality. Every military leader in the region awaited his latest versions and paid handsome sums to keep an "edge". Which was awesome, until some dudes showed up with guns. 

   Benedict was an extraordinary hunter. His tracking ability and marksmanship were far above anyone within 500 miles of his town. A lifetime of learning from the great hunters of his region had earned him a place at the top of hunting culture. He earned tremendous sums of money from trading pelts and meat to people from far and wide. Which was awesome, until some guy started farming cattle near his village. 

   Now you might think, "well you're talking about major shifts in technology, or lifestyle". Perhaps, but in the first example someone other than the "good listener" had figured out that launching a projectile with greater accuracy and less bulky ammunition would be far superior. And, of course, they were correct. 

   In the second example, the hunter focused his attention and questions on being the most amazing hunter ever. But that gave him nothing close to the edge of the farmer who could, through less guile and more routine effort, have a predictable supply of meat and leather.

   Though these may seem obvious, they both circle around the idea of avoiding listening "myopically". When you are asking the wrong question (though it may have served you for years) you can never get the right answer. What to do?

   The best way to avoid this is to use the BIGGEST MENTAL FRAMEWORK possible when thinking about a particular problem. Don't make a better bow and arrow, make a better hunting tool. Don't be a better hunter, be a better food provider. Don't train your horses to be faster, think of a better way of being transported. 

   Improve your listening so you can see your client's problem directly, within a broader potential context. This leads to durable advantages, and profitability. Get the myopia out of your ear, and you'll put more money in your pocket. 


 


Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Outrunning the Monster...

  My parents were sticklers for punctuality. So as a kid, I concocted a motivational game to get myself home on time. I would imagine a huge, ugly monster chasing me through the streets of Akron, Ohio. I'll never forget that adrenalin-propelled rush of nearly flying over the pavement, feeling the monster's hot, rancid breath (I think it may actually have been the tire factories) while sprinting just ahead of his moldy grasp.

   Over the years, my monster has provided the motivation I've needed not only to succeed, but to thrive in the business world. He has served me well.

   His dogged pursuit is responsible for both my vocation and my avocation. The hairy beast chased me through college and graduate school, and finally into entrepreneurship. And I'm still running, but now for fitness; and not in Akron, but St. Petersburg, Florida.

   When I decided to start my own private-investigation firm in 1996, the monster breathed the specter of poverty. My new wife and I were living in a small apartment, whose rent, like everything else in our lives at the time, was paid by credit card. The monster helped me chase after business just to make sure we could eat and keep gas in the car and a roof over our heads.

   He also spewed the foul odor of self-doubt. I often lay awake at night wondering how a guy like me could possibly presume to run a business, especially against older, wiser (I thought!), and more experienced competition.

   But as I ran faster to escape the monster's clutches (he now sported a cheap, private-eye trench coat), I found myself learning a lot about how business operates. One particularly revealing lesson was that my "competition" was really only a little more gifted than my monster.

  For the most part, private investigators were what they always had been - retired police officers, special investigative unit (SIU) guys, or insurance adjustors. They often worked alone, used manual processes, and for sales collateral brandished their business cards.

   So while they clung to their Sam Spade model (and, for the most part, still do), I decided to innovate. While they snoozed between cases (feet up on the desk, of course), I learned about my marketplace - the claims and risk professionals who were purchasing investigative services. With the monster ever in the wings, I talked to people, read the trade journals, and found out what they really needed from an investigator.

   Then I decided that when fighting monsters, there is strength in numbers. So I took on partners, then employees. Every year, university criminal-justice programs were turning out legions of bright, energetic graduates, hungry for their first job and looking to learn the ways of surveillance. Why not hire them, pay them a decent salary, and teach them the ropes?

   And in order to keep my new employees working, why not find innovative ways of generating more business - by using what I had learned about our market, exhibiting at trade shows, producing sales literature that worked, by advertising, and by constantly generating new ideas for promoting the business? And why not self-publish a helpful booklet for clients about how surveillance works?

  We also made a commitment to using the hottest technology to run the business. (The monster was using none.) We outfitted our field investigators with the latest in video and wireless technology, trained them in its most efficient use, and sent them forth to generate revenue.

   But the real coup d'etat was the Internet. Our business is surveillance, which generally means video tapes accompanied by written reports. Our clients are claims and risk-management professionals, who spend entirely too much of their time on the telephone with claimants, physicians, attorneys and others.

   What better way to make surveillance information available to our harried and phone-weary clientele than to offer it on our secure Web site for them to peruse at their leisure - not only written reports but video snapshots and actual streaming video of the surveillance as well? Why rattle them with even more phone calls when e-mail and our Web site can provide them exactly what they need in a concise form, exactly when they need it? Why force them to store videotape cassettes when we can embed the video into the on-line record?

  Since we implemented the technology and juiced up the marketing, the monster has been quieter. He's not gone; in fact, I still hear his grunts when I look at our Web site and see how much remains to be done.

   And poverty is no longer the issue. The business, which now has grown to 85 employees, generated $4.1 million in revenues last year.

   But of course all those great investigators need to be paid, the office rent is due every month, and the technology doesn't come free.

   Where are my shoes? I can smell that ogre's breath right now.


(This was written by Robert DeRosa and myself in 2000.)

Saturday, July 20, 2013

In Defense of Antivation, and a way to profit from it. Yoo-hoo Microsoft...

   You don't have to be a technophobe to experience some dismay at the seemingly constant barrage of changes and alterations to technologies and programs that have become part of our daily discourse with the world. Let me tell you a secret...I want my antivation!

  Just when you feel the initial joy of mastery, the technology is re-engineered to be more user-friendly. Gasp! This puts us in the unenviable position of having to discard some hard earned work and begin anew. While I am hardly opposed to personal growth, having companies with whom I have formed a relationship kick dirt into the hole I was digging is a little annoying. Antivation please.

   This got me thinking. There must be an emerging market for some technological stabilization. With the baby boomer generation growing older, and in many cases already a bit impervious to change, this is a major opportunity. Microsoft could hang onto the code for Windows 7, for instance. Have a team tightening the code, making the software faster, more reliable and secure, and clawing away at consumer feedback on ways to simplify the whole experience. Then charge annually for licensing (fixed)  and support (a la carte), which I think will be a huge profitable growth area, with boomers aging. Um, antivation?

   The underlying technology need not suffer. As we inevitably move to 128-bit tech and onward, there would be plenty of room to make the program optimized for the new environment. Innoantivation?

   Frankly, I could apply this logic to phones as well. My Samsung Galaxy 3 is a joy. Love it. But I am curious what else of true value can be offered that would make me want to migrate to a new phone. Using the camera as an example, I only need 8 megapixels. The photos I shoot with the phone are capturing moments. Issues of pixelization etc, are not likely to factor in to me moving to a "new model." It handles e-mail, texting, web interaction, and a host of things I am only now unearthing. "Waiter, I ordered ANTIVATION, not innovation. May I please have the old version?"

   My central point is that with a large generation cohort getting to the "get off my lawn" stage of life, perhaps a new market is upon us. Antivation. Companies make the technology we're already used to better, (much cheaper development than "new and improved") and more reliable. If they want to expand the memory of the hardware model and increase the processor speed, great. Just don't fiddle with the basic design and interface. And, by all means, send me an annual bill to allow me the privilege of locking in my comfort zone.

   While I have not done any formal market research on this, frequent lunch and dinner chats with folks lead me to believe this is not some fanciful idea. It is a new bona-fide market. (In fact, at a recent dinner in Stockholm I listened to a smart, young university student questioning the same issue.) And I think it is growing, with a group of people who will pay the annual fee NOT to learn a new technology. 

   Before you (if you haven't already) dismiss me as being against progress. Think again. Innovation is NOT just what happens in the Silicon Valley, it is also how we use that technology in our life. Users frequently find novel, unexpected uses for technologies. But like everything, these need time to emerge, Burying the user side of the equation under your well intention, but unneeded, upgrade, is frustrating and actually counterproductive. I'm asking the large companies to engage in ANTIVATION both to accommodate what I think is a growing market of "what the hell is this" consumers, and an existing group of tech savvy people who would happily tweek the heck out of your existing app. Both of whom I guess would pay an annual "tick" not to be forced into re-engineering the technological ecosystem they've built for themselves.

   It certainly merits some thought.