Will Ofcom media-buying probe lift the lid on a can of worms?

April 6, 2011

Good luck to Ofcom as it attempts to prise the lid off the £3.5bn TV media-buying market and explore the wriggling multi-form life within. It really is a can of worms, and one most people in the business, most of the time, would prefer to keep firmly closed.

Their motives differ. Clients, despite the high-minded calls coming from their trade body ISBA for greater industry transparency, tend to find the subject stultifyingly boring. One indefensible reason for this is their personal unwillingness, or inability, to grasp the Byzantine complexities of the trading system. You might as well ask them to brush up their Latin as describe in detail the iniquities of media-owner  rebates. More pragmatically, they argue they have better things to do with their time – such as steering the strategy of their brands. Media negotiation is a matter for experts (on all sides) who understand the language, is it not? All you need to do is put a lesser amount on the table every year, screw down the terms with your agency even further, and get an auditor to establish that, at the year end, you have achieved still greater value for money (spuriously expressed in “media currency”  terms, not ROI) than the year before. If you haven’t, well maybe it’s time to fire your agency.

Media owners and agencies, on the other hand, are intimately aware of distortions in the system caused by such recondite issues as “pooled buying”, “agency deals” and “rebates”. And so they should be: these distortions, and the cloud-cover (or lack of transparency to the outsider and the regulator) that accompanies them, are what allow them to game the system.

Would a more open system be more effective than the present regime, for all its imperfections? Not necessarily. Better regulation does not inexorably lead to better business.

The fundamental criticism of the current system is that ads/spots end up going to the media owner who offers the best agency incentive rather the best fit for the client’s brand. The fundamental problem facing any reformer attempting to redress the balance is agency remuneration.

It might seem that media-buying agencies are in an incredibly powerful position. Indeed, in some ways they are. Ten buyers owned by six international agency groups – WPP, Publicis Groupe, Omnicom, IPG, Aegis and Havas – are responsible for about 80% of the money spent on UK commercial television. A comparable oligopoly dominates press, magazine and (under the guise of agency specialists), outdoor buying. The concentration of their market power is now, arguably, greater than that of the clients they serve, or the media owners they negotiate with.

Not surprisingly, these media buying groups are critical to the profitability of the agency groups that own them. As a recent article in The Guardian pointed out, something like £43bn a year passes through WPP alone (admittedly the largest global operator) on its way to media owners – which is more than the GDP of Ecuador. The treasury and cash-flow advantages cannot be overestimated. Equally, let’s not forget profitability. A media buying house on song has an operating margin of up to 25% which, given the scale of its operations, makes it the single most important component in any of the big agency groups.

But with power comes a surprising vulnerability. When agency network bosses promise their shareholders – as they do every year – enhanced performance, the first place they come looking for it is in their media-buying cash cows. Yet that profitability is built on foundations of sand. The days of 5% commission are long since gone; the equivalent of 2-2.5% would now be nearer the mark, as client procurement tightens the noose. And then there are complications, like a part of the deal being based on payment by results. The net result is greater reliance on financial compensation from the media owner: in effect, the use or abuse of market power to screw down the ratecard.

Most notorious of these Spanish practices is the discount, and the easiest way of looking at how it operates is with national newspapers. Agency media buyers are bonused on achieving a set reduction (10% for argument’s sake) not from the ratecard itself, but from the per page mean figure of all titles established in the last audit. Clearly it’s easier to negotiate a discount with a weaker player. The danger, from the client’s point of view, is that the ad ends up not in the title with the best audience profile or which boasts the most robust circulation, but in the title that has offered the best deal to the media buyer (which then collects its bonus). This market distortion has an ironic multiplying effect, given that most national newspapers are in the grip of structural circulation decline: the strong get punished, while the weak get weaker.

Murkier still is the incentive, a media-owner inducement which is often offered in addition to the negotiated discount. It may come in the form of cash, or free insertions/airtime. Strictly speaking, it should be remitted to the client, although that is far from always the case. Airtime barter may be illegal in the UK, but it is often difficult to audit who has used this extra airtime/pagination and for what purpose. An extreme example of what can go wrong when the client and senior agency management let their eye slide off the ball is provided by the Aleksander Ruzicka affair. Ruzicka was the president of Aegis’ German operation; but he is now spending 11 years in jail. The reason? He and several co-conspirators clandestinely siphoned TV airtime credits, which should have been remitted to the client Danone, into their own television sales house – where they were sold on for their own profit.

However, many clients are milder than Danone, which eventually decided to extract its pound of flesh in court: they simply take the view that incentives are a perk of the job, and would rather not know what is going on. They are not necessarily wrong to do so. As long as the system broadly delivers value, why worry about its flaws? Besides, it’s often difficult to determine the difference between what, from a media owner’s perspective, is simply a “loyalty payment” lubricating the wheels of business and an unvarnished bribe. The belief seems to be that the auditing system will expose any systematic skew in buying behaviour, and therefore acts as an effective suppressant of corruption.

As it happens, Ofcom’s terms of reference do not seem to encompass the principle of the discount. Siobhan Walsh, who is leading the 6-month investigation, will instead concentrate on whether pooled buying by the big operators (“share deals”) restricts choice for planners (who select the best audience profile for their client) and shuts out the smaller buying specialist.

The danger is that the investigation finds sufficient cause for concern to warrant involving the Competition Commission. Who knows what worms will crawl out if the CC launches a full TV ad market review? Nor, I suspect, will the repercussions be restricted to the TV market.

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The agency kickback scandal you couldn’t make up if you tried

November 10, 2010

One staple theme yet to make its appearance in our favourite TV soap, Mad Men, is the celebrated agency kickback. No doubt it will in time.

But why wait for the soap when you can have the real thing, authentically reproduced in verbatim court transcripts?

I refer here to a protracted States-side legal case which Grey Advertising Group has just lost after attempting to suppress the evidence for a decade.

And what a very unedifying picture that evidence paints. Internal memos and personal transcripts reveal an agency whose senior executives were steeped to the gills in a conspiracy to deny major clients Procter & Gamble, Mars, British American Tobacco (BAT) and SmithKline Beecham (now GlaxoSmithKline (GSK)) about £4m that was rightfully theirs.

Before going any further, you’ll appreciate that I have to flag up a legal health warning. All these events took place a long, long time ago – up to 20 years ago in some cases. Almost all the protagonists have now quit the business. And at that time WPP, which now owns Grey, was no more than an expletive uttered by Grey supremo Ed Meyer – who then held the agency lock, stock and barrel – every time he lost an account to JWT or Ogilvy.

Also, I’d like to point out that what follows is a very much abbreviated version of a story recently broken by my fellow blogger Jim Edwards, whose detailed account can be found here.

Now back to the script. The scene is Grey’s London office, then at the top of Great Portland Street, circa 1998. New American ceo, Steve Blamer (left), has just arrived to take over from long-serving managing director Roger Edwards. An increasingly incredulous Blamer is updating himself on the agency’s financial position, with the help of chief financial officer Roy Wilson:

Blamer: P&G is that much?

Wilson: Yep.

Blamer: Jesus… I’m telling you, the reality is you as the financial officer and me as the ceo and now Roger (presumably Edwards) could be sued. I mean, we’re cheating and stealing from our clients. That is the truth.

And later…

Blamer: I believe we should return these discounts. I’m not going to, I can’t make that decision unilaterally…If those guys (senior management, in New York) say that we’re not going to do it, and we can keep the discounts… then I say, fuck it that’s crazy, send me a note, I want a ‘Get out of jail free’ card.

Of course, handing back the discounts – mostly from print contracts – would open a whole new can of worms; as Edwards was quick to explain, citing one client in particular.

Edwards: Mars is such a vitriolic client, that if they did catch you doing that they would probably punish you very severely. They would take you back years, take a brand off you or something like that.

Not surprisingly, everyone decided to stay mum. But they did change the terms of business, so that future discounts would be rebated to the client.

You might ask yourself why clients were not better informed about what was going on. After all, it was their money. The answer seems to be Three Wise Monkeys syndrome. Indeed, even those party to what was going on within the agency were baffled by clients’ seeming ignorance, or indifference.

Blamer: Have they [clients] ever discovered that in an audit?

Wilson: No.

Blamer: And why is that?

Wilson: …I mean to be honest one has to be a bit surprised that none of them have ever specifically, eyeball to eyeball… and then asked the question, since it’s a clause in every one of our contracts, but…

In view of this circle of deceit and self-deception, it might seem surprising that anything ever came to light. The weak link, indirectly, was Wilson, who rightly feared he might be made a scapegoat and had the conversations taped and transcribed as an insurance policy should he ever get fired. Which he later was.

The case of Grey is, of course, no isolated instance, merely a well documented one. Currently, there is a still-breaking media-buying scandal in China – involving broker kickbacks – which has already claimed the scalps of Vivaki Exchange’s two top China operators. Earlier this year, Aegis Media finally put the so-called Aleksander Ruzicka affair to bed, when it settled €30m on Danone in lieu of unpaid TV advertising rebates. And going back a few years, readers may remember Interpublic’s belatedly generous settlement on clients of media volume discounts, whose non-payment had come to light as a byproduct of the accounting scandal that engulfed the group at the beginning of this decade.


ASA ban undermines Danone’s health positioning

October 14, 2009

DanoneAnother week, another food and drink company rebuked by the Advertising Standards Authority for running an advertising campaign that made unsubstantiated claims about the health benefits derived from its products.

The Glaceau Vitamin Water ‘More muscles than brussels’ campaign banned last week was, above all, silly in its health pretensions. Coca-Cola, which owns the brand, fell below its usual high standards in this area, but the outcome is hardly going to do significant damage to the soft drink giant’s image.

Not so for Danone. The ban imposed on its Actimel health drink campaign is altogether more serious. Health and ‘wellness’ are at the very core of the European food manufacturer’s positioning. Indeed, chief executive Franck Riboud underlined this very point a couple of years ago when he sold off the “unhealthy” bits of Danone, such as the LU biscuit business, to Kraft; precisely to concentrate on health-enhancing neutraceutical products such as probiotics Actimel, Activia and Yakult (which Danone now part owns).

Up to now, this strategy has paid dividends. The fat margins (the only fat you’ll find in a lean business) that accrue to probiotics has allowed Danone to wage a successful recession. A fading celebrity like Nell McAndrew will have been able to relaunch her career on near-ubiquitous presence in Activia commercials, at at time when much of the rest of the industry was scaling back its ad spend. It’s paid off handsomely for Danone, too. Sales of Activia rose 38% in the year to the end of February, according to Nielsen. Similar large spends have been put behind Actimel, starring Sir Bobby Charlton and Felicity Kendal, with similarly gratifying results.

But this ban on the latest ad puts a spanner in the works. The advertisement shows a bottle of Actimel jumping over a skipping rope while a voiceover makes the claim: “Scientifically proven to help support your kids’ defences.”

As far as the ASA is concerned the claim is far from “scientifically proven”, despite the  wealth of clinical data Danone has adduced in its defence. This is a finding, and a ban, which undermines Danone’s core positioning.

Naturally, Danone can water down the language it uses and hope to blur the health-giving benefits a little. But that course is ultimately suicidal for probiotics products, which justify their handsome price premium over ‘ordinary’ yogurts precisely on the fact that they have “scientifically proven” credentials.

The ASA is by no means Danone’s only worry in this respect. The regulators in Brussels are also gunning for it. Empowered by a new raft of more punitive legislation, the EU-backed European Food Safety Authority is going through all food health claims with a fine tooth comb. Of the 70 it had surveyed at last count, 66 failed to pass muster. Danone, so far as I know, has had to redraft all significant health claims underpinning the promotion of Activia and Actimel and is awaiting their approval. Whether it will get that approval, I have no idea.

It’s conceivable, the way things are going, that any kind of health claim attached to food or drink promotion will in a few years time become as quaint as “Guinness is Good For You.”


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