Lévy accused of falsely denouncing ‘corrupt’ Renault marketing executive

August 25, 2012

In a new twist to an old corruption scandal that engulfed Renault two years ago, Maurice Lévy, head of Publicis Groupe, has been accused of bringing about the unfair dismissal of a senior marketing executive at the French car company.

To recap, three senior Renault executives were dismissed at the beginning of 2011 after they were accused – falsely it later turned out – of passing top-secret electric-car technology to the Chinese. At the same time Philippe Clogenson, director of customer marketing, was fired after he was found to have accepted corrupt payment from a supplier.

Later, Renault boss Carlos Ghosn was forced into an embarrassing climbdown and his second-in-command resigned after it emerged the allegations that had brought down all four executives were false.

Clogenson was subsequently reinstated and compensated for wrongful dismissal (as were the other three executives).

It now emerges that the man who accused him was none other than Lévy himself. That at least is the substance of a witness statement from Marc Tixador, a former policeman now himself the subject of an investigation, who was hired by Renault to conduct an internal inquiry into the allegations.

According to Tixador: “In May 2009, we were put onto the Philippe Clogenson case by his direct superior, Stephen Norman. He, in turn, had been tipped off by M.Lévy, boss of Publicis, that a Renault employee whose first name was “Philippe” and who, more specifically, was in charge of marketing, had been taking bribes from certain suppliers. Our internal inquiry and discussions with Publicis enabled us to establish that the suspect must have been Philippe Clogenson.”

Lévy has been quick to play down his own role. While not denying Tixador’s statement, he had this to tell the French national newspaper Libération: “Some information came my way, but no surname was mentioned. I purely and simply passed that information to Renault, with infinite precaution. I didn’t denounce M. Clogenson or anyone else. I didn’t know the surname and I didn’t try to find it out either. It was the internal security team at Renault who tracked it down and made the deduction.”

This, to say the least, is a lame mitigation of his conduct. As Libération sarcastically points out, the very mention of a Philippe working in marketing would have enormously simplified the task of the internal investigation. But the newspaper also casts doubt upon the authenticity of Lévy’s account. It says that Tixador’s colleague, an ex-military type called Dominique Gevrey (himself under investigation at one point), gave a much more explicit version of Lévy’s role: “Lévy telephoned Tixador directly, who put the speaker-phone on in my presence.” Lévy then (according to Libération’s account) proceeded to badmouth Clogenson (accablant Clogenson de tous les maux). Gevrey claimed that Norman played only a minor part in the investigation, passing on the information that he had been told Clogenson and a supplier were involved in financial irregularities – without at any point specifying who the source of these accusations was.

What remains to be unravelled is Lévy’s motive for tipping off the investigation team about Clogenson. Libération, which broke the story yesterday, speculates that it could have something to do with Clogenson giving business to digital agency Fullsix – a competitor to Publicis, which is the dominant Renault agency.

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Brands show their sensitive gay side

July 11, 2012

Pink: it’s the new black. Brands are falling over each other to “out” themselves as fellow travellers in the Lesbian, Bisexual, Gay and Transgender community (hereto after, LBGT).

First we had Kraft, with its Gay Pride rainbow cookie, posted on a Facebook page. Then Google joined forces with Citigroup and Ernest & Young to promote a joint campaign that  is to highlight the privations suffered by LBGTs around the world. And now – improbably enough – a famous Premier League club has joined the throng.

No, not Chelsea attempting to smother the unpleasant odour of racism emanating from the John Terry court case. Or, for that matter, Queen’s Park Rangers. Liverpool is the first Premier League club to be officially represented in an LBGT event in Britain. A banner featuring the club’s crest is to be carried by staff and members of the women’s team at next month’s Liverpool Pride.

According to Liverpool FC managing director Ian Ayre, the initiative is all about ridding football of homophobia. Earlier this year he helped organise a Football v Homophobia tournament hosted at the club’s academy. Good luck to him: it’s an all-too-evident flaw marring the Beautiful Game, and he’s trying to do something about it.

Less clear is what Kraft (and the others) are up to. Is there an identifiable gay cookie sector? Or do LBGTs simply consume cookies like everyone else? The Facebook campaign, which consisted of an image of an Oreo cookie with six layers of rainbow-coloured creams and the caption ‘Proudly Supports Love’, certainly managed to court controversy. Within a few days, there were 38,000 comments on the site, and nearly 250,000 ‘likes’. Most of the comments were positive, but some were decidedly hostile – and within a few days a ‘Boycott Oreo’ page had sprung up on Facebook, fueled no doubt by neat Bible-Belt bigotry.

Was Kraft really standing up to be counted? I doubt it. More likely, Barack Obama’s forthright backing for same-sex marriage has given brands “permission” to go mainstream on the subject.

By way of explanation Basil Maglaris, Kraft’s associate director of corporate affairs, tells us: ”As a company, Kraft Foods has a proud history of celebrating diversity and inclusiveness. We feel the Oreo ad is a fun reflection of our values.”  A “fun reflection”, eh? The smile may be on the other side of its corporate face if Kraft visibly falls down on its employment diversity programme any time soon.


Sir Martin Sorrell – a fit and proper Olympic torch-bearer?

July 10, 2012

“Millionaire at centre of ‘fat cat’ row will carry the Olympic torch through streets of East London” howled the Daily Mail, in one of its ‘world exclusives’.

Downpage, there were 57 varieties of indignation from the good folk of the north-eastern London borough of Redbridge, all queuing up to express their disgust and dismay at the soiling experience of having someone not themselves carrying the sacred flame through their hallowed land.

Charlotte Law, 19, was typical (of Daily Mail reportage, at any rate): “I would be much better at carrying the torch than him. At least I’m from around here. Did he have to apply like everyone else? I don’t think so. It’s a disgrace.”

And you could sympathise with her. The bastard. He may have given up his £20m bonus rights, but here he was trying to worm his way back into the big time by wielding an Olympic torch.

But no, not Bob Diamond. It was someone most of them had never heard of, until coached by Mail hacks. Some bloke called Sir Martin Sorrell. Something to do with a big advertising company and a scandal. He’d asked for much too much money (don’t they all?) and been told he couldn’t have it.

We don’t want his sort round here. Michael Aldridge, a 51-year old care worker, summed it all up: “It goes completely against the Olympics spirit, but it’s not about that any more, it’s about money.”

Let me put you right on that, Michael: it always was. Even in ancient Greece, where a prodigious amount of vicious cheating and betting invested the quadrennial games like a swampy miasma. Come to think of it, the Olympic Torch Relay itself isn’t exactly of blameless historical pedigree. It was introduced in 1936, just in time to fanfare the Nazi games. The Nazis were very good at that sort of thing.

But, coming back to Sir Martin, what is it – precisely – that he has, or hasn’t, done to qualify as one of 8,000 bearers of the Torch? Well, behind the scenes, he has since 2005 been giving a good deal of his valuable time to promoting and supporting, pro bono, the London Olympics. And, as if that weren’t disqualification enough, he has actually been asked by the International Olympic Committee in Switzerland to carry the torch!

Outrageous. You know Sir Martin’s problem? He’s not one of the Little People – except of course in the literal sense. He’s one of them, the elite, who rule our lives. But then, the last I heard, the Olympics – motto: Faster, Higher, Stronger –  is all about elitism. It’s a gladiatorial contest where the best man – and woman – always wins. How inegalitarian is that?


Premier League scores spectacular own goal with new Barclays sponsorship deal

July 3, 2012

The Premier League just doesn’t get it, does it? The world is crashing around Barclays ears: its chief executive Bob Diamond has just been forced to step down by the Governor of the Bank of England; its chief operating officer Jerry del Missier has quit; its chairman Marcus Agius will be exiting in the coming months; and Bob’s top team of investment bankers face a mass clear-out (if, that is, they had anything to do with BarCap between 2005 and 2008, which is highly likely).

And what does the Premier League do? It inks another sponsorship deal with Barclays Bank, this time for a whopping £35m a year over 3 years (or so Brand Republic tells us).

Granted, when scandal strikes, the boot is usually on the other foot: it’s the sponsor that  assesses the collateral brand damage and, if necessary, does the firing. For instance: Coca-Cola repudiating its association with Wayne Rooney, after the latter consorted with a prostitute while his wife was pregnant; everyone junking Tiger Woods once his elaborate sexual gymnastics came to light; Vodafone shaking a big stick at McLaren Mercedes (but not much else) over cheating on the F1 track; and Emirates Airline threatening to drop its World Cup sponsorship because of FIFA chief Sepp Blatter’s limp-wristed approach to racism on the pitch.

But the scandal now engulfing Barclays is of such epic proportions that even the Premier League – not normally known for its ethical sensitivity – should carefully consider whether it is prudent to continue its association with such a blighted brand. Let’s face it, it doesn’t look too clever, does it? ‘We’re a wholesome family sport, happy to take money from anyone – cheats and spivs especially welcome’.

Of course, the Premier League commercial negotiators have been unlucky in their timing. Little were they to know that, as protracted negotiations were nearing their conclusion, international financial regulators would hit Barclays with a £290m fine for manipulating the interbank lending rate. Even so, a suspension in the negotiations would now be the intelligent way forward – while the Premier League looks for an alternative commercial partner; and Barclays does the decent thing by withdrawing its offer. Tip for Premier League negotiators: try sectors other than financial services. It will save pain later.


Yell name change to hibu is the kind of makeover that makes you want to scream

May 23, 2012

Yellow Pages owner Yell has just changed its name to hibu, to the corporate fanfare of a £1.4bn annual loss.

If you want to draw attention to the fact that you are a loser, this is the way to do it in style. Don’t just disappoint your shareholders, really get their hackles up by spending yet more of their money on a makeover that will involve changing everything down to the last dot on letterheads and corporate literature.

It’s the kind of thing that gives rebranding a really bad name. The corporate equivalent of a crooked car dealer pushing a cut-and-shut write-off through the body-shop, in the belief that some mug out there will buy the flashy new paint job.

So why do it? Mike Pocock, Yell’s chief executive, claims to have a cunning plan. He’s actually proud  of the fact that hibu (unlike its predecessor, Yell) is a meaningless word. Yes, readers, unironically he spells it out for us: “high-boo”. As opposed to “low-boo.” Now you know.

Apparently, trendily ungrammatical hibu (lower case ‘h’, with some meaningless umlauts thrown in) is going to “connect” with under-25 year olds for whom telephone directories are relics. And while we’re there, let’s not forget “digitally-enabled housewives under 45 who have money to spend”. No, really. Must be the Sid and Doris Bonkers market that satirical magazine Private Eye has made its own.

By way of explanation, Pocock says nonsense words are now very much in vogue: “If you go back 15 to 20 years, Google and Yahoo! didn’t mean anything. It’s how you support the brands.”

You couldn’t make it up, could you? Please, Mike, stop digging and throw the spade away.  Google and Yahoo may have been nonsense words, but they represented thriving new businesses that earned the right to use a neologism. Not so tired old Yell, shackled to its Yellow Pages print platform. The best place for nonsense words is in the poetry of Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll.

WPP’s Landor, who dreamt up “hibu”, must be laughing all the way to the bank. Now comes the expensive advertising campaign to let Sid and Doris know they are being targeted.


Admen watch out: health Bannism is back

April 16, 2012

It’s been a while since the medical profession got onto its high horse about banning the promotion of fast-food and soft-drinks brands.

But now, sensing the increasing vulnerability of the Coalition Government, it’s charging straight for the breach.

The militant assault comes from the Academy of Medical Royal Colleges, an umbrella organisation which can count on the (at least passive) support of 200,000 doctors. It’s being directed by the academy’s vice-president Professor Terence Stephenson, something of a zealot in these matters.

Specifically, Stephenson wants:

  • A ban on brands like Coca-Cola and McDonald’s sponsoring major sporting events such as the Olympics. Carling, sponsor of the Carling Cup, also comes in for some harsh words;
  • Prohibition on the use of celebrities or cartoon figures in promoting “unhealthy” food and drink to children;
  • A safe area around schools, free from fast-food outlets;
  • “Fat taxes”, as in Scandinavia, levied on such foods;
  • Much clearer labelling on the calories, salt, sugar and fat contained therein.

Same old, same old, you may say. And you would be right. This is the “Bannist Tendency” making a not-very veiled attack on the Government’s proclaimed policy of collaborating with industry via so-called “responsibility deals”, which emphasise self-regulatory restraint rather than expensive-to-police and often-ineffectual red-tape.

When I say “ineffectual”, I should qualify that. In the short term, the proposed bans might well have a debilitating effect on commerce without achieving concomitant success in combatting national obesity. Longer term the strategy is tried and tested, however. It amounts to demonising fast-food and soft drinks in the same way the medical profession has managed to demonise smoking. At this very moment health secretary Andrew Lansley, the arch-proponent of industry “responsibility deals”, is contemplating stripping the last vestiges of marketing support from the tobacco industry with a ban on branded packaging. That’s what, in a generation’s time perhaps, the medical profession would like to see happening to Big Food brands.

Reducing the amount of salt, fat and sugar in our diet is of course a commendable aim, and it is right that the medical profession – of all special interest groups – should embrace it. But is it also right to equate the variable impact of HSSFs on our health with the addictive and truly pernicious effects of smoking? There is a matter of degree here, which does not seem to be adequately reflected in the uncompromising messianic fervour of the medical profession. Or, rather, some of the zealots who seem to have hijacked it.

Stephenson himself is a case in point. He may be an eminent paediatrician, but he also harbours some eccentric views. Among them, that second hand smoke (from tobacco) is a significant contributor to cot-deaths. He is also someone who clearly lives in a bubble blissfully sequestered from the inconvenient realities of commercial life. Here he is on the subject of football sponsorship:

“For adults, beer is a source of calories. I like going to a football match and drinking beer, but it’s the high-profile sponsorship that means that every time we mention this trophy, we mention in the same words Carling Cup.” So, let’s ban it, eh? Personally, I’m all the way with Stephenson on renaming it the “English Football League”. Period. But I do wonder where all the extra money is going to come from if we prohibit the likes of Carling, Coca-Cola and (heavy heart, here) McDonald’s from investing in sports events.

Surely, a little more personal responsibility exercised over how many HSSFs we ingest at any one time, not to mention how much exercise we take, are more salutary – and certainly less puritanical – solutions to the national obesity problem?

And, if we’re going to consider banning any advertising at all, what about reviewing the wall of money Big Pharma spends on targeting the medical profession?

Now there’s an unhealthy relationship.


Belligerent WPP builds up its stake in Chime

April 15, 2012

For those who – like me – have been following the buyout shenanigans at Chime with some bemusement (see my two posts here), the following item from Bob Willott’s Marketing Services Financial Intelligence will be of more than passing interest:

Chime Communications confirmed yesterday evening [Friday last] that long-term shareholder WPP has continued its recent buying of shares so that it now holds over 20% of Lord Bell’s group. By exceeding the 20% threshold, WPP is now entitled to increase its board representation at Chime from one to two nominees. Share buying activity by WPP was first reported by the industry research publication Marketing Services Financial Intelligence last December, noting that WPP’s holding had risen above the historic level of 15%. According to Marketing Services Financial Intelligence, the buying was attributed by Chime insiders to an attempt to restore WPP’s stake after it had been diluted by various share issues to vendors of companies Chime had acquired. “However, that explanation began to lack credibility as the share buying has continued”, commented editor Bob Willott. WPP is not under any obligation to make an outright bid for Chime unless its shareholding passes the 30% mark. Willott thinks that WPP’s share buying may have been influenced by the attempt being made by the two senior Chime board members Lord Bell and Piers Pottinger to buy out some of the group’s public relations business.

No kidding. As is well known, WPP is by far the largest stakeholder in Chime – and its boss, Sir Martin Sorrell, has been an outspoken critic of the Bell buyout.

I addressed this very issue of motive to WPP. Why was it stealthily upping its stake? “Good investment” came the cryptic reply. What, even if Tim Bell, Piers Pottinger and the best bits of the PR business were to leave? “Either way.”

Question: Does the inception of the Bell/Pottinger buyout plan predate or postdate knowledge of WPP’s share-buying activity?


Has Francis ‘Jerrycan’ Maude committed an even bigger blunder with “Son of COI”?

April 2, 2012

Cabinet Office minister Francis “Jerrycan” Maude’s legendary communications skills were on full display last week, with a gaffe that caused the Government its worst wobble since the election.

Let’s hope this is not an omen. Maude is, among other responsibilities, the minister in charge of direct government communications. Meaning: he has been the prime mover behind the dissolution of the Central Office of Information, which officially closed on March 29th, and the fashioning of its hypoglycaemic successor, the Government Communications Centre.

It’s too early to write off “Son of COI” as another one of Maude’s blunders – yet. Only time, and ramped-up expenditure in anticipation of the next general election, will give a definitive answer on that. Nevertheless, it is clear the new organisation will face formidable challenges right from the start.

No one, including COI insiders, can take serious exception to Maude’s fundamental critique of the 66-year old institution: that it was spending far too much (not least on itself) and needed to be cut down to size.

What has incensed critics is the savage severity of the resultant pruning, and the furtive ideological makeover accompanying it.

Let’s take a helicopter view of what has happened.

The new GCC team will be expected to carry out all the essential tasks of its predecessor at the COI. That is to say, it will coordinate Whitehall departmental campaigns from the centre, evaluate them, foster cooperation between these departments, media plan and buy for them and monitor the media results.

The COI once boasted a team of over 700 to accomplish these tasks; even towards the end, and after savage cuts, it could still muster a headcount of 400. The GCC, by contrast, currently has a full complement heading towards 150.

That figure, small though it is, does not fully reflect the painful new reality. Nearly half of the new team is made up of already existing communications (ie PR) staff  extracted from the departments of state. They are not (it almost goes without saying) marcoms experts and would not have formed a part of the COI’s remit. So the marcoms element of the team is lean indeed.

Moving on, the integration of comms and marcoms might seem no bad idea. And in principle it is not. Many would argue that PR people have grasped the potential – and limitations – of digital media, particularly the so-called social graph, far better than those working in traditional brand management.

That should not blind us to the dangers, however. Particularly those inherent in a merger where comms has come out top.

Significant in this respect is the Government’s decision to appoint Jenny Grey as permanent executive director (CEO) of the GCC, in January. By all accounts, Grey is a popular and competent executive, but she has zero experience of traditional private sector marcoms. Previously she was director of policy and communications for No 10 and the Cabinet Office (responsibilities she retains as part of her new role). Before joining the civil service in 2008 she worked for the Audit Commission, Cancer Research and the NHS. Her career began in agency PR.

In appointing Grey, the Government went back on its previous commitment to pick a marketer from the private sector. Grey is no doubt a popular ‘insider’ choice. Clearly, she is well liked in the Cabinet Office. And the departments of state are unlikely to have objected either, inasmuch as one of their own – a civil servant – will now be running the co-ordinating shop.

But the decision does leave you wondering who will be qualified to do business with the outside world: private sector contractors – marcoms agencies prime among them.

The answer to this question might, in other circumstances, have been Grey’s deputy, Wendy Proctor. Proctor had plenty of ad agency experience before she became client services director at the Department of Health. But in her new role as deputy director, Cabinet Office shared communications service, she will have her work cut out managing the undermanned “shared delivery” pooling system that ministers to the needs of the 7 government department “hubs” set up as part of the administrative reform programme.

These “hubs” are themselves experimental and rather controversial. It remains to be seen how well they will work in aggregating and filtering departmental work.

So the GCC will be a much smaller, more inward-looking creature than its predecessor. It will have a very steep learning curve. Its mindset will be that of the comms department and, indeed, of government ministers. It will favour short, sharp, “messages”, designed to curry favour with the Daily Mail and opinion polls over long-term strategic programmes whose true value may not become apparent until well after the next general election.

Even it were interested in some new equivalent of DrinkDrive or Change4Life, where nowadays would it find the resources to properly evaluate such programmes?

Marcoms, once the COI fairytale princess, has ended up being Cinderella at the GCC.


Kony 2012: Is there a marketing angle? No

March 23, 2012

The trade publications are still full of it. Kony 2012: the marketing angle. Apparently, the 30 minute video viral, which has now attracted about 85 million viewers on YouTube, is replete with key “learnings”  for anyone working in the marcoms biz.

Just what these lessons are eludes me. To be sure, the exposé of child murderer, rapist and serial sadist Joseph Kony is a story compellingly told, which probably accounts for its success in holding the butterfly attention of the social media generation for a full half-hour, rather than the conventional 2 minutes maximum prescribed by digital lore.

But to infer from this that amateur film-maker and social activist Jason Russell has distilled an alchemistic formula that can be meaningfully applied to brands and brand management is, frankly, ludicrous.

If there is a universal truth behind this amazingly successful video viral, it is the one first coined by Andy Warhol: “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes.”

Sadly, that 15 minutes of fame has been visited upon Russell, and he has paid the price in inexpungeable personal humiliation and a nervous breakdown that has landed him in hospital, probably for months. Most of us, like Russell, are not very good at handling fame when it comes knocking at the door.

Personal misfortune aside, is there anything else to be learned from Kony 2012? Surely, the cynic will say, it is no more than an amplified instance of “Fenton/Benton” with a bit of social activism attached.

Or, more precisely perhaps, a supercharged version of Corporal Megan Leavey’s titanic struggle with US military bureaucracy, played out on Fox Television and the social media, to rescue her dog Sergeant Rex from undeserved euthanasia. Like Russell, Leavey has managed to activate her campaign “offline” by winning support from useful celebrities and important people on Capitol Hill. Nothing new in that. It’s simply the scale of her achievement, leveraged by social media, that surprises.

That’s not to belittle Russell’s own coup de theâtre, merely to put it into context. Kony 2012 does provide considerable inspiration for a certain kind of marketer – the cause-related one, typically a charity such as Amnesty International or Oxfam. But its relevance to the brand manager’s marcoms arsenal is strictly limited: to PR, and in particular, “advocacy”.

It’s very easy to see why. Brands are never likely to excite, of themselves, the emotional engagement that permeates Kony 2012. And, if they were ever to attach themselves, except ever so marginally, to such a political hot-potato, it would surely spell unwelcome controversy.

Controversy there has certainly been with Kony 2012. A searing media searchlight has scoured Russell’s Invisible Children charity after allegations of fund mismanagement came to light (one of the the things that seems to have driven him into “temporary psychosis”). And the prime minister of Uganda has – via YouTube – personally called Russell to account over an erroneous factual narrative – which, he claims, has done great damage to the Ugandan tourist industry. If this is not “ambush marketing”, I don’t know what is:

Brands are not there to grandstand and take sides: they are there to serve their customers.


Bell Pottinger buyout proceeds – despite veto from top Chime shareholder WPP

March 8, 2012

Summing up a satisfactory set of annual results, which had seen Chime pre-tax-profits climb 16%, chairman Lord Bell concluded: “The group is well positioned for the future with a very positive year ahead for sports marketing in particular.”

But not with me on board, he might have added sotto voce, and not with my deputy Piers Pottinger either. Nor, come to think of it, quite a few others in Chime’s PR division.

Bizarrely, despite the naked glare of publicity and overt hostility from Chime’s biggest shareholder WPP, Bell is forging ahead with his buyout proposals, which I flagged earlier.

On that subject, more specific information has come to light. Bell and Pottinger are planning to take with them the whole of Bell Pottinger, including public affairs, Sans Frontières (transborder reputational issues) and Pelham BP (financial and corporate), of which Chime owns 60%. What triggered the talks is the prospect of losing the remaining US government business at BP, which would cause a profit plunge in the Chime PR division as a whole.

Both sides at the negotiating table are rather hoping that Stakhanovite growth in sports marketing will paper over any divisions and, more to the point perhaps, make Chime’s necessary “repositioning” after a Bell buyout more palatable to shareholders. At the moment, PR is the biggest element in the group’s operations – accounting for 44% of its revenue. But it is already on a downward trend: operating income slid 7% to £69.2m in 2011. Sports marketing, on the other hand – accounting for 25% of total revenues – soared 64% to £83m. And with a number of acquisitions under the belt in such places as Brazil, that makes Chime look well set for the World Cup in 2014 and the 2016 Rio Olympics.

When and if buyout negotiations are finalised, Chime senior non-executive director Rodger Hughes is expected to sound out Fidelity (7% shareholder) and possibly JP Morgan (7%) about the proposals. How Chime will square WPP (nearly 18%) remains to be seen.

Here’s what WPP chief executive Sir Martin Sorrell recently had to say on the matter:

“I think it sets a terrible precedent. It isn’t logical, and if you start to dismember the management of it [Chime], where does that begin and where does that end? As an investor in the company, one would rather it stayed together than split asunder.”

I await the outcome with interest.


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