PLAYING IT COOL

When the world goes to hell in a handcart, there’s two basic ways you can react. You can either run through the streets in a shrieking panic yelling ‘doom’ at everyone you meet or grit your teeth, buckle-up and get ready to meet the challenge head on – whichever you prefer.

The economic gloom has deepened over the past 18 months and the marketing sector has done its best to hold the line. While other industries were talking the planet into recession, we did our best to accentuate the positives, and perhaps if others had followed that example we might at least have slowed the cycle of decline.

Now that the time for blind optimism is well and truly over, the industry has to get real about the recession. There’s a lot of marketers out there still preaching that budgets aren’t going to be slashed and that everything’s fine and I’m sorry to say it, but they’re just plain wrong.

The accelerating downturn is already having an impact on nearly every company out there and if they don’t want it to worsen, people are going to have to pull their heads out of the sand.

Rather than hide under our desks and hope that it goes away, we’ve got to come out fighting. We’ve got to come up with solutions for clients bitten by the crunch and prove to them – in pounds, shillings and pence – that the money they spend on our services is earning them a fantastic rate of return. At the end of the day, no businessperson worth their salt is going to abandon a relationship that makes them money.

Cutting a marketing budget during a recession is rarely considered a smart move and can be one of the biggest mistakes a business will ever make. As money becomes tighter, the need to hold on to customers and find new ones is greater than ever before. We need to be making the argument that spending the same budget more wisely is the way ahead.

Look at the numbers from the US, where there were three recessions between 1973 and 1991. During those periods, the companies who increased their marketing budget were equally as profitable as ones who cut back. The difference was that after the recession the return on capital employed (ROCE) increased to 4.3 per cent against -0.8 per cent for those who cut their budgets. Two years after recovery, the ones who invested in marketing were experiencing ROCE rates on average three times higher than those who didn't.

So, cutting your marketing budget might make the balance sheet look better in the short term, but in the long run it could be killing the business.

In the online sector, of course, we have even more powerful arguments to take to the market. Given the benefits offered by digital marketing in terms of proof of ROI and ability to measure performance, in times of trouble it makes sense to focus your budget on campaigns that you can be confident are delivering real value for money.

If you’re doing it right, marketing is an investment rather than an expense - that’s the essential point we’ve got to make here. While companies can prosper during a recession, it’s also easy to make decisions (like indiscriminately slashing budgets) that could seriously damage their prospects in the long term.

That, I reckon, is the challenge facing marketers today. If you can prove to your clients’ satisfaction that for every pound they spend you’ll deliver several in return then frankly you don’t have a problem. If you can’t? Well, maybe you’d be better shoving your head back in that sand…

THE UPSIDE TO THE DOWNTURN

There's been a lot of gloomy talk creeping through the digital sector lately. Perhaps that's understandable given the economic situation, but I really feel there's a real danger of letting the doom-mongers talk the industry into a black hole.

So I reckon look on the bright side: the new and improved credit crunch is, if anything, an opportunity for digital business. The digital marketing industry was born during the dot.com slump and has grown steadily despite unfavourable market conditions because it offers what businesses really want: cost-effective services with transparent measurable ROI.

No matter whether you call the current situation a depression, a recession or a full-blown bloody disaster, the factors that have turned many digital businesses into successful operations remain exactly the same. That's why recent arguments to the effect that the SEO bubble is about to burst just don't make sense to me.

For starters, it's not a bubble. Nobody would be more delighted than me if a sudden outburst of search marketing fever had sent prices rocketing sky high and made overnight billionaires out of us all, but unfortunately it didn't happen like that. Boringly, like every other outfit in the sector we were forced to build the business over the course of a decade, steadily expanding against a continuous backdrop of education, results and a lot of hard work.

Some commentators are predicting doom because as the mists and myths surrounding SEO clear, they believe more and more customers will be taking their digital marketing in-house. I accept that it's obviously not great news for agencies offering outsourced services when clients decide to take matters into their own hands, but by the same token it's hardly unexpected.

In every one of the creative sectors from advertising to marketing, businesses face a choice between building up their in-house expertise or hiring outside help. It's a well-established fact of life that the search industry just has to deal with and doubtless will. After all, did the growth of corporate press departments mean the death of the PR agency?

I learned an interesting German saying this week which, crudely translated, goes something like “If you need milk, do you grow a cow or buy it?” Sorry to go all farmyard on you, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that while it may well make sense for some businesses to develop their own teams, they will face a number of major challenges.

First and foremost they'll be stepping into the most head-huntable market on the block right now, with an SEO staff churn rate in most companies that would make your eyes (and wallet) bleed. And don't get me started on the ever increasing salaries for those staff that you really need or want to keep hold of …

For me, the best thing you can do with a client that wants to take their SEO in-house is to help them, because that's how you turn a threat into an opportunity. Rather than trying to dissuade them, we offer the services of our own internal team of recruiters, who know every SEO expert in the market, their employment status and their ambitions, not to mention the positions, salaries and packages likely to make them tick.

These placement services have grown in popularity by 180% over the last year, as have the training packages we developed to ensure new employees have the skills to hit the ground running. Does the opportunity end there? Well, unless they've recruited a 25 person strong R&D team like ours, they're going to have to turn somewhere for ongoing access to the latest industry developments.

If you're prepared to supply the help and support they need, who do you think they're going to call first if they decide to outsource again?

In the meantime, the best thing that any SEO outfit can do is concentrate on cutting costs, driving through efficiencies and raising the service bar. Consolidation will at some point become inevitable as the industry matures and when the dust finally settles, it will be the companies that have successfully refined their processes that will come out on top.

So come on industry - stiff upper lip.

101 THINGS TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE

Everyone should have a bucket list. A menu of enriching, exciting, inspiring and happily debauched experiences you want to try before you kick the bucket (die). Like a filofax for the soul.

I think you need one because without it, there's a risk of not realising what you want to do with your life until the opportunity has gone. Then what are you going to tell the grandkids?

I mean, it’s nice to say you've built a successful business and made some money, but after that the conversation tends to run a little dry with 6-year-olds...

So, recently, ignoring my family's view that I am clearly in the grip of a full-blown mid-life crisis, I started scoring a few items off my own list on boys' trip to California. Certain legal technicalities prevent me from revealing all, but I can heartily recommend riding a Harley through the Mojave Desert, skydiving into Vegas dressed as Elvis, insisting that: "Yes! Absolutely! I can still walk!" at the Napa Valley wine tasting and driving from San Francisco to Los Angeles in a convertible mustang.

All in all it was a good start but if I’m honest I’ve had a bucket list for years and I’ve packed a lot in, from watching three babies being born to making friends with both my parents AND the in-laws (the ultimate challenge!).

Many of my life's most memorable experiences have been about personal growth and development. But let's be honest: it's the thrilling, adventurous, frivolous and morally questionable stuff that people really want to hear about and that I'd therefore be more likely to talk about.

With that in mind, I've compiled a selection of the bucket list moments that might not exactly be good for you, but certainly make for brilliant memoir material. Take a look, and I'll send a bottle of quality malt whisky to the person who comes closest to guessing which ones I've already ticked off.

1.) Spending the night in a Russian jail with ones father

2.) Singing on stage in a West End Abba tribute

3.) Firing various automatic small arms and rocket launchers under the influence of a great deal of alcohol

4.) Fishing with dynamite

5.) Flying a jetfighter faster than the speed of sound

6.) Crash landing an aircraft into a nuclear power station

7.) Milking a cow

8.) Getting shot at

9.) Picking marijuana in Morocco's Atlas mountains

10.) Being electrocuted whilst fire fighting in a gay sauna

11.) Apearing on the front cover of a magazine

12.) Sleeping with two sisters at the same time

13.) Getting stabbed in Africa during a carpet buying incident that goes horribly wrong

Even when they're all done, there'll still be plenty to do. I don't know why, but somehow I feel like my life will have been wasted if I die before tasting the world’s hottest chilli, streaking at a major sports event, running a marathon, travelling into space, being questioned by the CIA or meeting my grandchildren.

Whatever floats your boat, I strongly suggest getting your own bucket list. Jot down the people you need to meet, the places you still have to go, the foods you have to try and the things that will stretch you to your limits and remind you that you're alive, then start work on ticking them off.

Just don't be surprised if in the end, it turns out that you can experience the things that matter most without leaving home.

NO REST FOR THE WICKED

I'm not a big fan of the summer holiday season. It seems to slow the entire planet to a tedious and infuriating crawl.

I'm just entering the second week of my own fun-packed family fortnight in the sun and it's been great, but margaritas and lying about on beaches can only hold my interest for so long. As the holiday continues I increasingly find myself drifting back to my laptop and - despite vehement and vocal opposition - longing for a bit of work to take my mind off the summer blues.

Lately, I've been wondering why we go through this ritual every year. You know what it's like: Trying to ensure a bit of business continuity means that you have to work double-time for a fortnight trying to anticipate anything that might happen before you go, and then when you get back you have to spend the first 72 hours wading through 14 days worth of obsolete emails.

Then are you ready to get cracking? Well frankly no, because now Sue's gone snorkelling in Tibet and by the time she gets back, Bob out of finance will be bungee jumping somewhere near Oslo. July breaks, and suddenly its impossible to set up a meeting in under a month.

Unless you're catching up that is. As your colleagues arrive back from vacation in dribs and drabs nobody can quite remember what's going on, so you'll spend hour after hour in meetings designed to leave you exactly where you were before the holiday season began.

Are people really worried that the UK has slipped into recession? Apparently not, because the entire country is scheduled to be running on a skeleton crew for the next couple of months.

I don't begrudge anyone their summer holidays, but we subject ourselves to vast expense, stressful preparations and airport delays just so that we can leave home during the best weather of the year. Does that make sense?

A wet weekend in Bournemouth might not have quite the same allure, but these days I'm beginning to see the appeal...

GOING PROPERTY MAD

For the best part of a decade Britain has been going property mad. It seems as if every person I meet has a sideline investing in bricks and mortar.

It's even impossible to switch on the telly without encountering a schedule of shows about people buying, selling, renovating or losing their shirts on the housing market.

Last night I was in the bath (try not to think about it) - minding my own business and having a bit of a muse - when I had one of those flashes of inspiration that, had it arrived five years earlier, might have done me a bit of good.

I'd spent the earlier part of the evening looking at the property news, turning to the list of my own investments, spluttering, draining my glass and softly weeping into the sofa. No matter how many times I used the corkscrew the figures just wouldn't add up, and it wasn't until I'd slipped into a soapy lather I realised that maybe this is because they never added up in the first place.

I'm not talking about the credit crunch here - that's a natural market readjustment that's being wildly over-hyped by the press. No, what bothers me is that for some bizarre reason, when it comes to property speculation we seem to have suspended the basic laws of business.

You know the old adage that you never lose money on bricks and mortar? Well, this particular piece of received wisdom is the product of a forgotten time. When I was growing up in an Edinburgh council house (well, ok, it was a flat in Leith) in the late seventies the vast majority of people lived in rented accommodation and true enough, if you were able to haul yourself onto the property ladder then the chances were that you'd make money on the deal.

But flash forwards a couple of decades and the situation has changed beyond all recognition. These days the majority of folk own their own home and broadly speaking, an entire generation has settled upon the property market as a means for investing in their old age.

The problem with this is that in order to realise their profits, generation X are going to have to put their ventures up for sale at roughly the same time, so a glut of these properties will be hitting the market.

Now I'm no Alan Greenspan, but my understanding of the fundamental laws of economics is that when supply suddenly rises against demand then prices inevitably fall - meaning that those who've pinned their futures on house values will, to use technical fiscal terminology, be completely screwed.

Maybe there's a complex equation out there somewhere to prove that the property business is immune to basic economic principles, but I can't help feeling that Britain needs to get over its obsession with home ownership.

Your housing needs change throughout your life anyway - shifting from shared flats to family homes to retirement bungalows with barely a bye or leave - and that leaves me wondering if many people wouldn't be better off renting in the first place.

You can argue that renting accommodation is just throwing money away, but let's face it: you're never going to get to spend that cash anyway. The investment that's locked up in your property will in all likelihood simply be transferred from home to home as you move through life, meaning that by the time you're ready to liquidate the profits you'll be dead, and your children will probably just blow them on foreign holidays and a flashier car.

But that's only if the property market hasn't collapsed completely by the time you finally peg it.

I've just been reading that the experts reckon we're long overdue a global pandemic and given that the last one (Spanish Flu) killed 200,000 Britons in under six months, it seems that we're only one particularly virulent Ebola strain away from the point where the best thing you can do with a house is break it up for kindling.

Sleep well.

PHONE CULTURE

You can say all you want about global marketplaces and the international language of business, but when it comes to navigating the world telephony network you really need to know your local rites and customs.

The other day I was working on something with a colleague on the floor below. Despite having talked to him on repeated occasions, every single time we still went through the same palaver: "Hello mate, how are you?" "Good. And you?" "Excellent. Now, about this thing ..."

You'd think that by the time we'd had our sixth call that we could have dispensed with the preliminaries. I mean, what could possibly have happened in the interim? Major life changes are unlikely to occur in that sort of time span, and if there'd been some other major drama I would have heard the screams, or at the very least been notified when the emergency services arrived.

Given that he comes from the kind of traditional media environment where a brick hurled at the head is considered a polite conversation opener, the colleague in question isn't the type you could easily offend, yet we're so bloody British, neither of us could help going through the motions. We ended every conversation the same way too: "See you later then." "Yes, take care." "You hang up." "No, you" etc.

On the face of it, this seems pretty stupid and it's certainly a waste of time, but I've noticed on my travels that nearly every country has its own unique phone culture and an unwritten book of etiquette that governs how people handle their calls.

In Germany, formality remains the dish of the day. You might have worked side-by-side with Joe Bloggs for a decade, married his sister and given him one of your kidneys, but whenever he calls you can guarantee that he'll open up with, "Hello, this is Dr Joe Bloggs speaking."

In America, they've stripped everything down to saying "Bill? I'll meet you at six", and then hang up, while in Italy they don't mind how you start the call as long as it sounds attractive and well-dressed. Whenever I dial Australia on the other hand, they groggily scream, "Do you know what time it is?" before hurling the phone at the nearest wall.

As far as I can tell, France operates under a multiple-choice system whereby anyone receiving a request in schoolboy French can either choose to: a) snort with derision or b) slam down the phone. That's except in August, of course, when they don't bother answering at all.

Vive la difference, that's what I say. Every country has its own approach to the art of telephone answering, but over the years I have noticed one similarity that unites them all, and that's whenever I call someone who owes me money, they're never bloody in...

SODOM & GOMORRAH

I don't know if it's like this for everyone, but for me turning 40 turned out to be a time for reflection; mulling nostalgically over the journey so far and the people and places that whizzed by on the way. I even remembered my hair, and stopped for a moment to wonder what it's doing now...

Then again, crawling out of your thirties is also a great opportunity to throw yourself into a full-blown mid-life crisis. It's practically expected of you, and that's why last week found me riding a Harley Davidson through the Mojave desert flanked by three lunatics on wheels.

It was the kind of trip I dreamed about at 19 and I had the wildest, loveliest time, but something strange happened along the way. The lads did their best - bless them - but no matter how silly things got maturity kept creeping up on me. In the end, I was forced to start thinking logically about the state of the planet.

The niggling feeling started in the famous airplane graveyard at Mojave Airport. As an aviator it was great getting up close and personal with so many iconic craft, but you couldn't look at the great oily beasts rotting into the desert without being pestered by troubling notions about value, pollution and waste.

By the time we were half way across the boiling Mojave, the feeling had become an itch. It was absolutely searing hot, but despite riding for hundreds of miles through enough sunlight to boil every kettle on the planet, not once did I see a solar panel soaking up the rays. Is there something I'm missing, or is that the glaring omission of the century?

When we arrived in Las Vegas, the message hit me with a 10lb hammer. I'd just witnessed monumental waste mixed with total failure to embrace the concept of renewable energy, and here I was rolling into a city where the only thing they know about ozone is that if you pump it into a casino, it oxidises the gamblers' second-hand cigarette smoke.

It's a place in its own 24-hour time zone. A real-life Sodom and Gomorrah where they've twinned Amsterdam with Blackpool, chucked it in an oven and hatched a gentlemen's agreement that really, there are no rules. It's the kind of place where you could really fear for your health and safety, but luckily nearly everyone seems to have a gun.

Bordering on insanity and rolling in extravagant waste with the neon blazing from dusk till dawn and the air-conditioning blowing fit to bust, within hours of arriving in America's playground I'd come up with some pretty profound conclusions about the environmental challenge and the state of planet Earth. Unfortunately I was there for the entire weekend however, so I'm blowed if I can remember what they were...