We all have an inner voice – a constant stream of thoughts narrating our lives, offering advice, opinions, and feedback on everything we do.   But for many professionals – including me – this voice can sound like a mean soccer coach.   Our quiet, inner narrator says stuff like, “I don’t think I can do this, I’m in over my head,” or “I’m not as smart as others.”     Staggeringly, 70% of people will experience imposter syndrome – feeling unqualified for their roles despite evident success – at least once in their lives, according to a study published in the International Journal of Behavioral Science .   Research also reveals it’s not just an experience shared by early-career professionals but people right across the spectrum of working life. Seasoned leaders, entrepreneurs, and even CEOs frequently face self-doubt, often in silence.   In a global survey by KPMG , 75% of female executives admitted to having experienced imposter syndrome at some point during their careers. It’s also troubling many women in traditionally male-dominated fields such as science, engineering, technology and health sciences experience imposter syndrome. As for other genders, academic research shows few differences. However, it’s an open secret we men rarely drop our guard.   So, what’s wrong with these stories we tell ourselves?   The core issue is limiting beliefs are self-fulfilling. Over time, they shape how we see ourselves and what we believe is possible.   In fact, Dr. Valerie Young , psychologist and author of The Secret Thoughts of Successful Women , says they also drive behaviours that limit our potential, such as avoiding new challenges to downplaying achievements.   This silent struggle is particularly prevalent in the workplace. High-pressure environments, expectations of success, social media’s obsession with comparisons, and competition for jobs lead many professionals to suppress their self-doubt.   People can feel trapped behind a facade of confidence while privately questioning their worth. Fake it till you make it! It’s a dangerous disconnect, where even those at the top feel isolated and fearful of being “found out” as inadequate. I’ve been there, done that and got the grey hairs!   Storytelling to the rescue   The good news is these stories we tell ourselves are not fixed. Our inner narrative can be rewritten, a positive self-image can be revived. This too is part of my story.   The first step is to embrace one deeply cathartic idea: You’re not alone .   Why does this matter? Because it helps you crush harmful narratives.   For example, I once listed off my stress inputs during a walk with a good friend. We got up to about 10 different stressors impacting me at work and in my personal life. I truly felt alone in the struggle.   “You know that’s not normal, right? my wise mate countered. "Most people have just a few stresses.” Turns out I had forgotten what should be normal. But I wasn’t alone, and it was a profound moment.   Of course, moments like this are just one part of the journey. What matters is you keep moving forward with others, rewriting your narrative one line at a time.   'Stories We Tell Ourselves' is an exciting, breakthrough keynote by Mark Jones. His message of vulnerability, courage and optimism ignites positive change. Read more here .

This week I presented a real-time 'choose your own adventure' session at Mumbrella360. The live virtual audience chose one of two 'broken brands' and we used my diagnostic approach to operate on it in real-time surgery. Offered Mitre10 or Target, the audience chose ... Target! Here's what happened. How do you fix a broken brand? Every marketer faces this dilemma at least once in their career. The trouble is, how do you know if your brand, product or service is truly broken? Perhaps it’s just a bit damaged, or neglected. We often get so close to our brands that it’s hard to tell. It feels ok to you, but is that what the data says? I’ve distilled this complex issue into just three simple stages and this week we’ll apply my diagnostic questions to one broken brand you know very well. But first, a story Way back in pre-covid times, my colleague Paula and I sketched out this crazy idea for how to fix a broken brand in real-time. It was a pitch for this year’s Mumbrella360 event, hosted virtually last week. The crazy idea was I’d give the audience a choice of two pre-selected broken brands. Inspired by the memory of choose-your-own-adventure books, we'd have the audience choose one brand and together fix it on the spot. I had to be ready to go either way! Well, Mumbrella loved the idea, but since then everything changed. The live audience was to become a virtual one. Audible feedback and audience eye contact replaced by scrolling chatter on an iPad. Gulp. How’s this thing going to work? This wasn’t in my script! Analogy for the real thing It’s only now, having (successfully!) delivered the virtual experience, that I realised my own journey from clarity to complexity, mirrored the challenges we face with broken brands. Photography: Zahrina Robertson We can easily imagine a big brand campaign, large budgets and spend months laying the groundwork for a career defining moment, only for the perfect combinations of a global pandemic, budget cuts and layoffs to come in and wreck everything. So, what do you do when faced with the cold hard reality of more with less? Well, glad you asked! Here’s how I tackled the issue during my session. Step 1: Know what you’re fixing You can’t fix a broken brand without knowing exactly what you’re fixing. Call me Captain Obvious, but it’s a serious point. The fact is business leaders often have conflicting views of what constitutes “the brand”. Is it the name, the logo, or the idea of what your organisation stands for? Others talk about the importance of a go-to-market strategy. A brand is considered a mere speed bump on the road to sales glory. My simple definition is this: That is, your organisation is like a mirror, reflecting the story your customers tell out there in the world. You’re the embodiment of felt needs, desires, aspirations and random impulse purchases. Importantly, if we understand a brand as a customer story, it isolates the issue. If the brand is broken, it means the customer story is broken in some fashion. The remedy? Understand what customers are actually saying, and respond in a way that better reflects reality and future aspirations. Step 2: Know thy brand For the sake of example, let’s use the brand the audience opted to “fix” during my Mumbrella session: Target. Why Target? In the simplest terms, it’s losing badly to Kmart. 🤷🏼‍♂️ For years, Target’s Wesfarmers sibling has captured the hearts and minds of customers who love Kmart’s cheap but stylish products and 24 hour convenience. Our first step in fixing a broken brand live is to get our minds around just three diagnostic questions that represent the brand and its relative health. For efficiency, I’ve included my personal opinion responses, but feel free to replace with you own if you're familiar with Target. What’s one word that springs to mind about this brand? Daggy! What does it believe, or stand for? Cheap prices, but better quality than Kmart. How could it be better? It’s sorely lacking personality, quirky fun and a sense of adventure. When I was growing up, my mother called it Tar-jhay. It was classic Aussie culture: fun, a little bit classy, but not too serious. Step 3: Customer feelings Again, we’re focused on just three questions. Think about your own instant responses - I’ve added mine. Describe the typical customer? A busy mother. How do they want to feel? Happy. Life is stressful, budgets are tight and kids always need stuff! What would surprise and delight them? More name brands at Target prices. They want to feel proud of the clothes and homewares they buy for themselves and the family. Look good, responsibly. Step 4. Imagine long-term impact The hottest word in marketing today is purpose. But a brand’s purpose is only useful if it creates long-term, sustainable impact in the community. So step four is all about thinking ahead and imagining a future world where customers are experiencing the effects of your refreshed, fixed brand. Back to our three questions: What do customers value about this brand? They want to be proud. The secret shame is gone! How do brand and customer beliefs overlap? Customers and the brand want the satisfaction of knowing they are doing good things in the world. Yes, budgets matter and quality cotton clothes. But so does the idea of not exploiting cheap labour overseas. What if Target also took a stand on ethical supply chains and lasting community benefit? What lasting impact can you imagine? Customer satisfaction and positive word-of-mouth is on the rise. Target has a greater share of voice than Kmart because of its positive message, fresh personality and messaging that reinforces a cheeky tar-jhay vibe. Step 5. Write a brand story brief Fresh with all this creative thinking, it’s now time to write a brief for a creative storytelling agency to bring your vision for a restored Target to life. This brand story brings together your new insights and the first sketch of a creative story that could engage hearts and minds - a type of storytelling I describe in Beliefonomics as the Belief Moment. We want people to believe in this new brand proposition, not just see our creative work as a cute twist on an old idea. In this slide from my presentation, you see we’ve abstracted Steps 2-5 above into short answers: I’d picture the Brand as the “best”. The one Customer emotion is “satisfaction,” and the value created from lasting Impact is the “confidence” to shop regularly at Target again. All that remains is a creative story that brings it all together. What would I do? Well, here’s a thought. One of Target’s biggest, most under-utilised assets is its iconic logo. 👈🏼 This internationally-recognised logo can be reimagined to tell a bigger story: customers are in the centre circle, with different stakeholders radiating out in concentric circles: jobs, suppliers, families, communities and people employed in ethical supply chains. In one creative execution, a three minute highly-emotional mini-documentary takes the viewers from an in-store moment where a customer selects a garment and looks up, smiling to realise it’s a great decision. We see the ethical production of raw materials, manufacturers and suppliers. We see happy families, connected communities and people experiencing an authentic reality that’s not ignorant of fast fashion. A strong narrative voice and inspirational music tell the story, and a compelling new tagline brings it home. I won’t tell you that tagline, of course, because I’ve already given Target enough free creative inspiration, but you get the idea! Did we fix the broken brand? Well, what do you think? I’ll be the first to say this approach is best viewed as a quick, high-level pass to get people engaged, thinking and excited about possibilities. Brand research, analysis and creative work is non-trivial and time-consuming. But at the same time, we also need to make it accessible and fun. Brand stories are not fixed quickly when left alone with a few creatives at an external agency. Just like customers themselves, it’s time we democratised brand strategy and involved more people across departments and stakeholder groups in the creative process. I reckon we could all use a bit more tar-jhay-inspired personality to deal with the inevitable surprises that lurk just around the corner. Keep believing, P.S. Ready to choose your own adventure? Let's talk. MARK JONES is a brand strategist, author and keynote speaker. His purpose is to inspire more people to use the power of storytelling to change their world. Find out more at markhjones.net and subscribe to receive his weekly blog direct to your inbox.

It’s my last blog of the year and I’m more reflective than usual as 2020 comes to a close. Like all of us, I didn’t see the events of this year coming. Few words do it justice, but how about this: deeply unsettling . I don’t know about your journey, but this was the year three core pillars in my life were disrupted. My faith remained solid, but my home, work and health were all shaken by the pandemic and related forces. I hasten to add, I’m sailing off into the holiday season with an optimistic and hopeful mindset. I’ve come full circle, in part because I realised something really important I’d like to share. But first, the drama. Wind back the clock a few months. I'm at the gym, working out my frustrations on the treadmill, and the final chorus from Powderfinger’s award-winning and haunting anthem of 1999, These Days blares out how I was feeling: This life well it's slipping right through my hands These days turned out nothing like I had planned Control well it's slipping right through my hands I really was in a pretty dark place. And as a middle-aged man facing all the things we blokes face at this time of life, it really wasn’t a good thing. Stay with me as I connect a few dots and then we’ll land on a note of optimism that attempts to drag my story back into our marketing and storytelling wheelhouse. Personal life I’ve rarely, if ever, written about my own journey. I’m told I should, by some, that I shouldn’t by others. But I always pause for thought. I marvel at the likes of Brenè Brown and Donald Miller who champion vulnerability and authenticity. So here it is, a risky moment of vulnerability. I turned 46 this year and it sailed past in a blur. Only now have I realised what’s bugged me ever since turning 40. Guitarist John Mayer put it well in a doco on his life. He described waking up one day and realising he had a plan for the first half of his life, but not the second. The idea hit home. Then we’ve got an inspiring man by the name of Gordon MacDonald, an 80 year old Christian pastor and Chancellor at Denver Seminary. He’s still doing his thing, and by all accounts an inspiring leader. Driving to work one day I heard him on a podcast describe his life decade by decade. The ambition and growth of his 20s and 30s had given way to a realisation in his 40s that he wasn’t in a place he expected. Like a kind of grand existential awakening - how did I get here - and it resonated for reasons I’m still processing. The events I experienced were tough. Our family of four kids and two dogs endured the stresses and uncertainty associated with selling our home and moving to a new area during a pandemic. In addition, I endured mental and physical health issues that almost got the better of me. Sleepless nights, an unfamiliar sense of hopelessness, overwhelmed by sights and sounds, and a constant state of edginess. Channeling Mayer, it was hard to imagine the next 40 years. Then we had the stresses of lockdown and homeschooling life, like all other families. Just one of those issues would be enough for me, not all at once! Work life Next, we’ve got work. Many of you will know I self-published my first book, Beliefonomics , in March this year. We had grand plans, a launch event booked at Boutique Event Cinemas in George Street, guest speakers, Square payment mobile POS set up, and a humbling number of endorsements from leaders who’d agreed to review preview copies of my book. All cancelled. I love Peanuts , thanks to the BBC.com for this one: Like most of you, we took it all online and adapted. We did OK ... but the lack of direct audience engagement and feedback (validation?) was deafening to me, and I couldn't help wondering could we have done it differently? What if...? Likewise, I harbored ambitions for more paid speaking gigs at real-world events following the book launch. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen! Thankfully, we dived headlong into virtual events and to a large extent it was a great experience (right, guys!). Kudos to the Filtered Media team for their trust and agility in doing the switch to virtual events with me! Pictured with Daniel Marr, Tom Henderson and Paula Cowan. The bigger issue was that from March our agency, Filtered Media , took a revenue hit as marketing budgets suddenly went into a pandemic-powered deep freeze. Client after client started calling to regretfully tell me they needed to stop work. Like every small business, we’ve got a payroll, rent and ongoing commitments. Harrowing is a word that comes to mind to describe this season. Yet, here we are in December and the phones are ringing again. It’s a strange feeling, daring to hope that things really are getting better. Your experience Despite all these issues, I’ve also been mindful of our clients and industry friends. Through it all we kept recording and publishing episodes of The CMO Show podcast, keeping me tapped into the marketing zeitgeist. I marveled at how marketers, other working professionals like you and I, were coping with the year’s series of rolling events. While preparing for our final podcast, I went back and listened to our shows to catch a few snapshots of life as a marketer during a pandemic. Check out these stories: Louise Cummins , Marketing and Digital Innovations Director at H&R Block said the company shifted from advertising spend to a content strategy so they could better help customers by answering their tax and business questions. That is, lead generation took a back seat while they dialed up empathy and usefulness. Louise commented: “One thing that really resonated for me this year has been questions. That's the thing that every single person's got about everything in their life at the moment is, ‘what are the big questions?’” Ashley Killeen , Head of Impact at OzHarvest, echoed this sentiment. Imagine working at a charity primed to help feed people at a time such as this, but donations are hard to find. “It's more difficult than ever to tell the [OzHarvest] story and to appeal to people's sense of empathy when everyone is also struggling on a personal level, whether that be financially or emotionally.” Nicole McInnes , Director of Marketing and Commercial at WW (formerly Weight Watchers), was another professional who had to think quickly. The company switched from in-person workouts to virtual workouts with Zoom integration into the WW app within just five days. It was heart stopping, thrilling and ultimately rewarding. Joining the dots As is my habit, all this got me thinking. How do you make sense of all these experiences? Is there a golden thread that connects my somewhat dramatic personal experiences with the intensity experienced by marketing communications professionals? To my great delight, I realised the marketing trade press and industry people have done my homework. Even a casual observer of marketing trends could see that one issue has risen above it all this year - purpose . For example, Mumbrella360 Reconnected dedicated its first day to the topic of purpose. The word was peppered throughout our podcast transcripts, and it’s rarely a breath away in client conversations. And McKinsey wrote a useful article noting, “People who have a strong sense of purpose tend to be more resilient and exhibit better recovery from negative events.” Looking ahead, it argues purpose will be top of mind for employees in the “subsequent phases of the ‘next normal’ .” “People seek psychological fulfillment from work, and, as the crisis recedes and companies ramp up new ways of working, some people will experience friction, and even dissonance, around issues of purpose.” It’s a good point, and echoes something that’s bothered me for a while. It’s not a new idea, so what does purpose mean in the current/post COVID-19 era? Here’s my take. COVID-19 has forced us to realise we want something more than tokenism and kind words about doing good stuff. For too long in business we’ve accepted purpose as a nominal idea giving us social license to operate. It easily becomes an internal feel-good soundtrack for internal communications. Here’s how Kantar takes it up a level, mapping out four progressive steps toward a purposeful brand for organisations. I’ve taken the liberty of adding ( my interpretation ): Purpose is seen as an isolated tactic ( tokenism ) Purpose becomes infused with a societal brand promise ( vision ) Purpose is amplified and aligned with a company-wide strategy ( authenticity ) Purpose becomes a business-led movement ( impact ) I like the way they have called out the maturity that’s needed by leaders throughout an organisation to bring the notion of purpose to life. Yet, as I’ve mused on this model, something was missing. The gap, it seems, is the ‘ so what’ factor. What’s in it for me? What if I don’t like my employer’s purpose? After all, that purpose could simply be profit, and for some that’s motivating enough, but what if I want, no, need , more? I believe purpose needs a companion. And its name is Meaning . We all want to live and work in meaningful ways. It could be overcoming personal challenges, helping family, building community, or contributing to a noble cause championed by your employer. Whatever it is, it should be meaningful . Why? Because that’s what we’re hoping will fill the COVID-shaped hole - which is the same shape as our humanity-shaped hole, but COVID cleared away some of the roughage that used to be at its outline. One last thought Let’s wrap up with a return to Powderfinger lyrics. My Happiness is a fantastic song from the album Odyssey Number Five . Bernard Fanning sings: My happiness is slowly creeping back Now you're at home I’m taking him out of context because this song is about the loneliness of life on the road. But the sentiment still works for me. My happiness is slowly creeping back for multiple reasons. We found a new house. Life feels more stable. My mental and physical health is recovering. Our clients and team are happy. My faith gives me strength. I’m grateful. All these things are meaningful, and the end result is this year feels redeemed. You see, I’m a big believer in excellence, not perfection . I define excellence as, “doing the best you can with the resources you have in the time available.” On this score, I did pretty well in 2020. It wasn’t easy, or fun most of the time. But that’s not the point. I’m better for pursuing excellence - enduring, listening, learning and staying the course. In other words, my deeply unsettling year morphed into a meaningful one. What about you? Keep believing, P.S. Thank you to everyone who subscribed, bought a book, posted a review, supported and cheered me on this year - you’re awesome. I’ll be back in the New Year. Until then, stay safe and enjoy the holiday season. MARK JONES is a brand strategist, author, keynote speaker and father of four. His purpose is to inspire more people to use the power of storytelling to change their world for good, and has created a world-first storytelling framework for leaders to do so called Beliefonomics . Find out more at markhjones.net and subscribe to receive his weekly blog that restarts January 2021.

My Understatement of the Year award submission: it’s been quite the year. Hands up if you’re feeling stressed, tired, or overwhelmed? Maybe all three? Last week’s Thanksgiving celebrations in the US reminded me it’s healthy to look beyond ourselves to others, and remember to be grateful. We live with what psychologists call cognitive dissonance - two conflicting or inconsistent ideas held simultaneously. Few of us find the experience particularly comfortable. This dissonance feels even more even more spiky as we slide, stumble or crawl towards Christmas, holidays, NYE celebrations and 2021. Pandemic status is far from gone, but in Australia at least it feels like we can breathe a little bit (even if it’s behind masks). Yes, we’re thankful for health, family, friends, and with so many people losing their jobs in this season, even our work seems sweeter. At the same time, marketing in 2020 could be summarised with one word: uncertainty. So, how can we balance uncertainty and gratefulness? This week, I’d like to unpack this idea and think about 2021. What will it feel like, and what will matter? Ready? Stay with me, it’ll be cathartic! How it all went down I’ll never forget those first few weeks in early April. Lockdown was kicking in for the first time. Almost every day, a different client got in touch with the dreaded phone call. It wasn’t us, it was them, they commiserated. Budgets were snap frozen, the business was in crisis mode and they needed to completely reset priorities. As the CEO of a marketing agency, I’ll be honest with you - it was harrowing. How many clients would pause spending? How many of our staff would be affected? Anyone in leadership knows the acute weight of being the source of jobs, rent and mortgage payments, and livelihoods for the families of your staff who depend on you having a profitable business. We didn’t know everything, but we did know one thing: the global pandemic wasn’t going away quickly and marketing spend wouldn’t return quickly, either. Looking back on my conversations with clients, friends and guests on The CMO Show during that initial lockdown phase, most responded in one of three ways to the crisis: fight, flee or freeze. A metaphor for the latter is when you jump into icy cold water. You’re in shock and can barely breathe. What was your response? From shock to say something “These uncertain times.” It was a catchphrase that went viral in April. Every brand, it seemed, was attempting to empathise with customers. COVID-19 commercials started rolling out with the same familiar approach: soft piano music, empty streets and sympathetic voiceovers. The Wall Street Journal was one of many publications that caught the mood, picking up on a viral video by a digital marketer who connected the dots in this video: “Every COVID-19 Commercial Is Exactly the Same”. To be fair, the intent was good. Show empathy, help people, recognise everything is changing, promote and normalise the idea that we must stay at home. Thankfully, global creatives took note and moved us forward. The big shift The next moment worth noting is when we collectively realised our work-life balance, whatever that is, was changing for good. As we all raced into replacing real-world meetings with Zoom and virtual events, something important dawned on the global community of marketers, comms professionals and creatives. All of us, including marketers, have day jobs. When you’re working and living at home, it changes everything. We lost the third space - that moment of solitude in the car or on public transport - between the home and office. Everything jammed together in a giant mess of homeschooling, food deliveries, preoccupation with a 24 hour pandemic news cycle and gradual acceptance that your dog/cat/children/spouse/home delivery would inevitably break into your meeting at the worst possible moment. We laughed, talked about how crazy it was, and quietly wondered if it would ever go away. The quote that captured this moment for me arrived during a virtual event I was facilitating for Sage. We were talking about the future of work, and Rhonda Brighton-Hall, Founder & CEO of Making Work Absolutely Human (MWAH), dropped this line: We have reset the psychological contract around work. Cue virtual mic drop. 2021 and the search for purpose In the past few weeks I couldn’t help but notice a resurgence of interest in a word that seems to build on this psychological contract idea: purpose. A good example was the first day of Mumbrella 360: Reconnected, a virtual event for the marketing communications community. Almost an entire day was devoted to the topic. Like all trends in marketing, this one has come and gone many times under different disguises, most notable corporate social responsibility. It’s a big idea that taps into a subconscious feeling many of us have buried until the pandemic forced purpose out into the bright, shiny spotlight. In marketing, we love telling stories that help brands connect with the real stuff of life, healthy communities and grand notions of self-improvement. But if we dig a little deeper, I think the real story here is our universal search for meaning. It’s an idea I explored during a brand storytelling masterclass last week. [add picture from the shoot] I believe the purpose narrative will morph into meaning in 2021. Our psychological contract has indeed been reset and we want to know how we, as storytellers, can make a difference. In fact, we want to be part of an organisation where everyone shares that same vision for change, positive impact and doing something good. Your new mission So here’s my challenge. We marketers, comms professionals, storytellers, journalists and creatives have a unique advantage. We can connect the dots between what we know customers truly want, and what the organisation is trying to achieve. We’re customer advocates, but more importantly, internal champions who understand the value of uniting around a single cause. You see, everyone within an organisation at all levels and in all departments now wants to know how their role is connected to a greater good. Organisations can no longer escape the social imperative: we’re all responsible for making the world a little bit better. We want meaningful roles within that grand narrative, even if we’re not clear about how it looks. So there it is. The purpose story will morph into a greater narrative about meaning. Sure, you’re tired and the last thing you need is some guy inspiring you to do more work! But even there, we have to be honest. Before we get busy again, one of the most meaningful things we can do is get some rest, reset and refocus. Who’s with me? Keep believing, meaningfully, MARK JONES is a brand strategist, author and keynote speaker. His purpose is to inspire more people to use the power of storytelling to change their world for good, and has created a world-first storytelling framework for leaders to do so called Beliefonomics. Find out more at markhjones.net and subscribe to receive his weekly blog.

Trigger warning:the following blog contains overtly cliched Australian slang and cultural references that may cause cerebral confusion to international readers. It also talks about meat. A lot. Because, meat. Vegans and vegetarians are advised to proceed with caution. Fellow Australians, we’ve got a fishy protein problem. We love our lamb, steak, pork, and chicken (winner, winner chicken dinner!). But fish? Too much hassle. We’re scared of wrecking it on the barbie and think it’s too hard to prepare. Well that’s what the clever peeps at Clemenger BBDO found out when doing research for Seafood Industry Australia, anyway. And I gotta say, I’d add let’s not forget any fishy remnants stink up the garbage bin! So, in a country “girt by sea” like Australia it’s an obvious opportunity to shift beliefs and behaviour, right? The supply is high, but demand is low. Today we look at the fish industry’s first big marketing campaign in about 40 years. It addresses this simple but profound insight: Aussies think fish is too much hassle. The answer? It’s Easy As. Take a sec to click and watch the amusing Easy As TV ad. For my American friends, be prepared for a cultural sensation, but don’t take it too seriously. 👇🏼👇🏼 As you watch, ask yourself: what emotions are they using to shift your beliefs and behaviour? What narrative are they using to connect with you? What I noted is they’re not just talking about the taste of fish. Or even the nutritional value of fish (aka, product features and benefits!). That’s not by accident or oversight. There’s a pretty simple emotional formula for protein stories: make it fun. Think about the annual Australia Day Lamb Ad. Always funny. Then we’ve been told to “get some pork on your fork.” Chicken and egg marketing always makes you smile with farmers hugging happy free-range chooks. So what’s fun about the fish campaign? You can’t look past the hero in our story, a cheeky young bloke wearing a yellow Stackhat straight out of the 1980s. He’s riding an electric-powered esky and wearing a funky floral shirt. Couldn’t be more ‘summer at the Aussie beach’ if he tried. Of course, we’re trading in well-worn Aussie cliches. Here we’ve got another white bloke next to a barbie, just like Hoges back in the iconic 1980s TV ad: “I’ll even slip another shrimp on the barbie.” Our Stackhat dude even calls out the obvious reference in the fish shop: “When it comes to an easy feed, we ‘experted’ that ages ago. Hey, Hoges?” It’s fun, irreverent and reminds you of good times. But I couldn’t help wondering why we haven’t been told to feel good about fish for four decades? Deeper feelings Now it could be a stretch of the proverbial net, but IMHO, the Clemenger and Seafood Industry team has caught a big one: we’re all hungry for things to be simpler this year. This isn’t a story about the ethics or effort of fishing. The simple problem is they want us to eat fish and feel good. If a likeable bloke selling other meats worked well, why not here? For me, beyond the laughs, the core emotion captured here is feeling good about the simple things. And more broadly, this insight applies equally to life, business and leadership in the year ahead. Contrast such simplicity with the complex, hard and depressing narratives dominating 2020. The year started with bushfires in January and went downhill from there. For most of us in leadership, the undercurrent is how we can all adjust to more complex and difficult workplaces and home lives. In fact, Many of us work in sectors that are inescapably complex: banking, telecommunications, finance, education, health, government. If I was to give all this a name, I’d say we have complexity fatigue. Daniel Khaneman, the godfather of behavioural economics, says we live in a time when consumers are pushing back against corporate obfuscation. We expect simple language and demand high levels of consumer protection. “I think one of the effects of behavioural economics is going to be that firms are going to be compelled to speak in plain English to their clients,” he says in this video with the United States Studies Centre. And this is going to apply to mortgages, it’s going to apply to health policies, it’s going to make a very big difference to peoples’ lives.” Simplicity is an idea I explore in Beliefonomics, and elsewhere on my blog, and the subject of frequent conversations with business leaders and marketers in my agency. We’re tired of complexity. Tell me what you do without the jargon. Make it Easy As. Right? Trouble is, simplicity itself is hard. As Mark Twain famously said, The good news about this fishy marketing story is it’s an example of simple truth telling using the power of humour and nostalgia. And it impacted my beliefs and behaviour: I cooked up some mean barramundi steaks the other night, and once dinner was done I took the remnants straight outside to the bin, well away from my sensitive nose. Our Australian Seafood industry friends are reminding us that fish is easier than we think, and by inference, so too are many other things in life. That’s a decent sentiment worth carrying into the New Year. Try something new and you might be pleasantly surprised. I'm all for a come-back of the "easy as" phrase in our shared Aussie language. If nothing else, it means things have actually gotten easier, or we're so much stronger now that the rest feels easy by comparison. All in all, I'm sure we can agree this is a fishy marketing campaign that doesn't stink. Keep believing, MARK JONES is a brand strategist, speaker and author of 'Beliefonomics: realise the true value of your story', available here. Find out more about his speaking topics and approach at www.markhjones.net and SUBSCRIBE to his weekly blog with insights for leaders on using the power of brand storytelling to shift beliefs and behaviour.

Spotify’s first global campaign for 2020 is a lesson in knowing your customers’ universe Are you a Spotify or Apple Music person? I’ve been avoiding this question on the home front. You see, we’re a family of two adults and four kids, and we’re all in with Apple. I’m the domestic CIO responsible for five iPhones, four iPads, four MacBooks, an iMac, and a couple of Apple TVs. Holding it all together is an Apple iCloud account with a gazillion terabytes of shared family storage, and of course a family subscription to Apple Music. Meanwhile, we also have monthly subscriptions to Netflix and Disney+. It’s not a trivial monthly cost, but to be clear, I’m not complaining. They’re all great services and I’ve even enjoyed my free Spotify account on and off for years. But recently the kids started badgering me for Spotify Premium. Another subscription? My response was very mature: “la la la la la, I can’t hear you!” Yet, here we are. I’ve relented and I plead partial insanity. We’ve signed up to Spotify Premium Family, the kids are over the moon and I’m busy figuring out how to make the most of it. Oddly enough, it’s good timing for this column. Spotify recently launched its first major brand campaign for 2020, titled Listening is Everything. I love a good brand platform, and I’ve gotta say straight off the bat, I love this one. Listening really is everything. I’m an audiophile, a musician and music lover in all its wonderful diversity. As an agency leader and former journalist I can also tell you with confidence that listening is one of the best skills you could hope to master. But there’s more to Spotify’s new campaign than simply listening. Let’s take a look at what it teaches us about brand storytelling. Firstly, the campaign’s hero video, produced by creative studio ManvsMachine. It delivers a short, funky and upbeat vibe. The super-cool aesthetic cleverly mixes the campaign slogan with animation, artist imagery, CG and 2D hand drawn elements. The sound design matches the positive, social feel that characterises the Spotify brand. Serena Leith, Marketing Director, Australia and New Zealand told me on The CMO Show podcast last year that to her, Spotify was “an indispensable source of daily joy”. I reckon there are thousands of brands that would love to authentically claim this positioning. Secondly, let’s talk strategy. Spotify isn’t just music. It’s rapidly becoming the go-to destination for podcasts. The company’s home page - itself an object lesson in simplicity - contains this simple statement: “Millions of songs and podcasts. No credit card needed. Get Spotify free.” Obviously this is a customer acquisition campaign, but it’s also a strategic positioning exercise. Edison Research talks about “share of ear” as a way of measuring all the various forms of audio we enjoy, from broadcast radio to audio books, podcasts and music. The good news for humanity is we’re spending more time listening to spoken word audio such as podcasts, talk radio and audio books, up by 30 percent in the last six years according to Edison Research and NPR. But if you’re a music-only platform, the bad news is music’s share of ear has decreased by 8 percent over the same period. Spotify will only continue to grow if it’s for anyone who wants to listen to anything. Lastly, Spotify is clearly making a bid to occupy the emotional high ground - an idea I wrote about in my post about T2 Tea. This is an idea in brand strategy where the focus shifts away from the company to the community it serves. That is, what happens when people gather around your product or service? What do they talk about and how would they like to change the world? T2 sees itself as facilitating meaningful conversations that promote diversity and understanding between people. Listening is Everything is a nod to the fact that Spotify is a social platform that brings people, musicians and podcasters together. Music and podcasts tap deep into our psyches, affect our moods and get us talking. They follow us everywhere. Apple Music is of course similar in many ways, letting you follow musicians and friends, but it lacks the real-time insights of Spotify - this is what your friends are listening to right now. Apple also seems to lack the powerful AI engine that drives Spotify’s ability to serve up long-forgotten but much loved songs from your distant past. Like the proud middle aged man I am, I’m hooked on the Time Capsule playlist Spotify magically created for me to rediscover bands like Soundgarden, Jane’s Addiction, You Am I and Temple of the Dog. It’s a visceral illustration of the idea I explore in Beliefonomics. Belief Moments are stories that engage our hearts and minds, emotionally shifting us along a belief journey. Music and podcasts are equally powerful, helping us transcend ordinary moments and inviting us to share those experiences with other people. Recalling my own childhood, our analogue version was sharing mix tapes, boasting about a new record we’d bought and admiring each others’ band t-shirts. Audio is, and always was, social. For music and podcast fans, it is everything. A universe of ideas, identity and inspiration. On this score, Spotify’s brand story hits the mark. The question for Spotify is will more families like ours believe listening is everything and worth the sub-$20 monthly fee? According to Forbes, its premium subscriber growth rate is falling as competition intensifies between a growing number of streaming services vying for our hearts and wallets. If you want to win this battle, listening truly is everything. MARK JONES is a brand strategist, speaker and author of 'Beliefonomics: realise the true value of your story', available here.

I’ll never forget one New Years Eve dinner party hosted by a 3-hat restaurant chef friend. As part of an 8-course degustation menu we were presented with a shot glass of tomato soup. Now most anyone can make tomato soup. Right? But this! This was a sublime explosion of an incredibly rich, singular flavour created over hours and hours of careful preparation and simmering reduction. The lesson here for leaders is that brevity is hard. Reducing your story to a singular, unified idea takes hours of hard work and preparation. But it's such a viscerally memorable experience when you get it right. The TED organisation is famous for reducing big thoughts to singular ideas. It’s global platform has launched careers, made people famous and inspires millions every day. Sure, it's a global media and content publishing company now, but at its essence is a brand that’s all about one word: ideas. Each TED talk is relentlessly focused on one person talking about one idea. Its tagline says it all: ideas worth spreading. Simple, engaging, powerful. TED presenters will tell you it’s darn hard to filter what's often your life's work down to one idea and 20 minutes. Simon Sinek’s TED Talk, How great leaders inspire action has clocked more than 13 million views so far. His pitch, like all the 10 most popular TEDx talks, I’ve summarised below with just one word: Simon Sinek: Why Brene Brown: Vulnerability Cameron Russell: Looks Robert Waldinger: Life Shawn Achor: Happiness Tom Thum: Beatboxing Celeste Headlee: Conversations Maz Jobrani: Kisses Andrew Solomon: Depression Thomas Suarez: Developers Image source: medium.com Does one idea matter? Maybe you’ve heard Mark Twain’s quote, “I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead.” As I said, brevity is hard. Looking ahead to 2021, we’re starting to dream of better post-COVID days and I’m hearing clients and business leaders talk about many activities they're ready to fire back up when it’s safe. In the rush for normality, we want more. More events, content, media clips, social posts, advertising, thought leadership articles, sales kickoffs, customer meetings and so on. Don’t get me wrong, all these things are good and with my agency CEO hat on, I kinda need clients who want more! But let’s not waste a good crisis. We’re heading back into a world where business will remain unusual. That means we can’t rely on the old tricks. To continue the metaphor, what if your customers don’t want more soup, but less with more intense, focused flavour? Who are we? We need to think more strategically about the brands we represent and care about. In Beliefonomics workshops and consulting engagements I push leaders to answer the big why question: “who are we?” Corporates, just like people, discover their identity by examining the belief systems, values and purpose that binds them together. Yet surprisingly few organisations take time to find out who they truly are. And when they do, do they go the extra step and refine it down to just one word? It’s an important question because strong, market-leading brands inevitably understand this idea, also known as brand essence. Global consultancy Interbrand echoed this point recently with its annual “Best Global Brands” report. This year’s Top Ten brands are pictured below, a list that is essentially unchanged from 2019. Image source: Interbrand The ranking is determined with a diagnostic tool that calculates brand strength, combined with a review of strategic imperatives and a brand plan, plus other metrics. From Interbrand’s perspective, the meta message is that brand strength matters. It’s a predictor of future success. The key word, the one big idea, is of course brand. That word is part of Interbrand’s name, and the report brings that idea to life on a consistent basis. As a quick sidebar, turning one idea into a big annual report is a clever PR and marketing strategy used by other organisations including Edelman with its annual Edelman Trust Barometer, Content Marketing Institute with its Content Marketing Research Report and Mary Meeker’s Internet Trends. One brand, one word So in the spirit of TED, let’s take a look at the one word I believe defines each of these Top Ten brands in Interbrand’s list: Apple: Different Amazon: Disruption Microsoft: Software Google: Search Samsung: Korea Coca-Cola: Happiness Toyota: Feeling Mercedes: Best McDonalds: Fast Disney: Magic What do you think of my list? Beg to differ? What about your own brand? Give me your word. In fact, I’d love to know your word. What idea lies at the heart of your organisation? At the agency I co-founded, Filtered Media, we embrace storytelling as our heartbeat. I believe it’s the single most powerful thing you can do to affect change. Meanwhile, with my speaker and author hat on, I’m now exploring how we understand the world and make decisions through the lens of belief. Over at Accenture, I see they just embraced the word 'change' as part of a new brand identity. It’s clever, curious, and speaks to the brand’s core focus as a global consultancy. Notably, change, like all the other words above are not in and of themselves particularly amazing from an English language perspective. But these words instantly become infused with meaning when aligned to a brand, its stories and the emotions they invoke. Sounds like an idea worth spreading. Keep believing, P.S. Share this blog on LinkedIn and I'll send you a gift-wrapped and signed copy of my book AND a special T2 surprise gift as a thank you. Tag me, and a friend or colleague, and I'll gladly send a book and gift to the person you tag as well! Find me on LinkedIn. MARK JONES is a brand strategist, author and keynote speaker. His purpose is to inspire leaders to use the power of storytelling to change their world. Find out more at markhjones.net and subscribe to receive his weekly blog direct to your inbox.

I couldn’t help overhearing a young couple behind me as I walked down the street to grab a coffee this week. “Hey, you know what car I really want? It’s this new Toyota Yaris. I really want to trade in my car to get this thing. I mean, my old Yaris is ok, but this new one is amazing!” His partner queried with a simple, “why?” Her tone betrayed disbelief. It’s just a newer version of the same car, why should this one be any different? Well the answer to that is super interesting. But before we get to the twist, the question it begs for us to explore as leaders: what makes your brand, or product du jour different in a sea of sameness? The motoring industry fights this battle harder than most. Small city cars are a great case in point. For the average driver, is there really any difference between a Yaris, Ford Fiesta, Suzuki Swift, Honda Jazz or Mazda 2? They’re all a little boring, right? This isn’t just a marketing problem. It’s not a stretch to say humans are almost completely redundant in modern car manufacturing. Car makers have been refining and automating manufacturing processes ever since Henry Ford changed the world with the production line; through to recently, a joint venture called NUMMI was created in the United States to help General Motors implement lean manufacturing and the Toyota Production System. Wikimedia Commons: Tesla robotic manufacturing Automation and global collaboration improves quality and efficiency, but there is one unintended consequence: it levels the playing field. The obvious differences between brands start disappearing. As consumers, we’re all too familiar with this idea. Regardless of brand, modern small cars are so consistently good they’re a bit like kitchen appliances. Give me a good price, a long warranty and enough features like Bluetooth, built-in GPS and automatic adjustable seats and I’ll happily drive it a few years before swapping it out for the next one. Turns out the Yaris is different Back to our man on the street. After being queried about why the Yaris mattered, he launched into a little monologue about this new hot hatch. He believed it was “so fast” and just had to have one. Glancing back as I peeled off into the coffee shop, it wasn’t hard to see his partner didn’t get it. And to be honest, neither did I. The Yaris is one of many equally good options, as listed above. But then, as serendipity would have it, I stumbled across a story that would change my belief. Drinking yet another coffee at lunch, I stumbled across a YouTube video about the new Toyota GR Yaris via my Facebook feed (eavesdropping again, Siri?). Here was this curious looking man,👇🏼 Morizo, in a racing suit talking about the GR Yaris. The video was titled, “Message from Morizon for the New GR Yaris.” Now, I'm a car guy. And even I was asking, who is this guy? Turns out he's the grandson of Toyota founder Kiichiro Toyoda. 64-year old Morizo's real name is Akio Toyoda, and he's also President of Toyota and the company’s “master driver,” or chief test driver. Think about that for a moment. Morizo, a name he uses to enter car races with relative obscurity, leads one of the world’s most successful car companies and here he is, literally hands on with the product. He’s the one who pushes its limits and critiques it in fine detail before it’s permitted to leave the factory. This is an important example of practical leadership. Sometimes there’s no substitute for a boss who knows the numbers and can offer expert technical insights - particularly in times like these when cars are a commodity and the pandemic has sharpened our focus on value for money. So, why is the GR Yaris different? Even if you’re not a car person, it’s an interesting story. The headline is simple: it’s a small car with sharp pricing and a level of performance that’s turning heads. That’s a killer combination in the car world. The launch campaign surprised even Toyota’s own expectations, with the first 1,000 examples on offer in Australia sold out within a week of going on sale in September at $39,950 drive-away, a $10k discount on full retail. I’ll spare you all the technical details, which you can read about in this CarAdvice story, but this is no ordinary mobile shopping cart. The GR Yaris is an all-wheel-drive car that shares very few technical components with the previous Yaris. New engine, chassis, and here’s the big deal - it’s hand made. Image: Toyota Gazoo Racing Master technicians known as ‘Takumi’ assemble the cars away from the robotic conveyors that build other Toyotas. These Takumi are only allowed to build the GR Yaris if they have more than 60,000 hours of car building experience, which CarAdvice estimated is about 26.5 years on the line. I don’t know about you, but I want a car built by a master technician. It’s instantly evocative, like the Japanese master chefs and craftspeople who inspire wonder around the world. Study the competition, then go the other way Watching Morizo talk casually about his creation and the story behind this new car, it suddenly dawned on me. The GR Yaris isn’t just different, it’s disruptive. “In the past, we tried to be successful in motorsport by taking a production car and adapting it for motorsports,” he explained in his native tongue. “GR Yaris is the very first model to reverse this process. This care was made to win. Motorsport technology is included in the production car.” For fans of performance cars, like me, that’s a genuine belief moment, as I call it in Beliefonomics. I’ve shifted from disbelief in this car’s uniqueness to the truth of its unique place in the world. This is a car designed with racing in mind first, then adapted for public roads. Entirely the opposite approach to every other manufacturer. Motoring journalists got wind of this back in 2019 before its official release, publishing glowing reviews talking up its performance creds and unique story. In fact, a steady stream of earned media coverage fed the word of mouth machine, and the internet’s been buzzing ever since. What made all the difference for me was Morizo’s smiling insights and truth telling. Toyota’s chief test driver is also, in this video, its chief storyteller. Morizo explained he involved racing drivers in the GR Yaris development program, he’s personally tested it in multiple locations, and just for fun, he’s done lots of burnouts in the car. Although, don’t call it a burn out. “Please call it art.” This guy is seriously fun, and this car is seriously different. It was designed differently, developed differently, built differently and marketed differently. It’s a good lesson in studying the competition, noticing what makes everyone the same, and doing entirely the opposite thing. Make cars by hand, make the boss your chief tester and storyteller, then drop the price to turbo charge the chatter. It’s worth noting it’s not an entirely new idea. Another famous car maker, Elon Musk, follows a similar strategy. Famous for never advertising Tesla, he apparently has now disbanded its PR department to leave him as the sole spokesperson. But the real insight is Musk’s belief that ‘great companies are built on great products'. In other words, build cars so remarkable (worthy of remark) that they practically sell themselves. What stands out from my chance experience on the street, combined with Morizo’s delightful video, is that Toyota is reminding us there’s always an opportunity to break the mould and step away from the competition, or should I say drive away, very fast. Keep believing, P.S. Want some homework? What is your counter-narrative? Jot down your answers. What are you doing differently to make someone chat about you on the street? What belief moments are you creating in the marketplace for people like me to discover? You're very welcome to email me your thoughts mark markhjones net Mark Jones is a brand strategist, author and keynote speaker on a mission to inspire more leaders about the power of storytelling to change beliefs and behaviour. www.markhjones.net

If you were to name the highest ideal for any company, aside from profit, there’s a groundswell of interest in another word: purpose. But what, exactly, is a company’s purpose? Surprisingly few leaders, in my experience, deeply understand their brand’s existential purpose. Even fewer actively work to connect purpose statements with tangible, sustained activity in the marketplace. Why? Among many reasons, it’s hard. It’s hard to orient an entire organisation around a single vision, purpose and achieve social impact while also making a profit. However, there is another way of looking at this dilemma. It is possible to have your proverbial cake and eat it. Or to borrow from the T2 Tea playbook, drink tea and change the world. A creative, poetic video produced by T2 in March - just as the pandemic gripped the world - is cleverly called Verse of Tea. As an expression of T2’s customer community, Tea Society, it captured my imagination. If you’re a leader in any capacity, it’s worth studying as an example of what happens when you bring purpose to life. It’s all Amy’s fault T2 Tea global brand director, Amy Smith, is the person who steered me towards Verse of Tea during our interview for The CMO Show podcast. As the conversation unfolded, I wanted to know what made T2, a division of Unilever, unique. Sure, it’s a BCorp and is doing wonderful work in sustainability with its supply chains, recyclable packaging and environmental commitment. Yep, it’s a good premium brand and the product itself is great. But is that enough? Amy’s response was to point at what brand strategists and marketers call the emotional high ground. Put aside any reflexive cynicism for a moment and think of it this way: every brand has a purpose, a reason for being. Customers, meanwhile, typically enjoy the outcomes or result of your products or services. Sure, you drink tea (or coffee) and enjoy the experience, but isn’t there more to the story? How much do you value the time out, a conversation with someone over a cuppa? That’s where the emotional high ground exists. For T2, its driving purpose isn’t to get more people drinking tea. It’s about understanding each other, building relationships and breaking down relational barriers to make the world a better place by embracing “diversi-tea,” as Amy calls it. Seem too lofty? To say it out loud, maybe. But that doesn’t make it any less real. Here’s Amy connecting the dots between the pursuit of the emotional high ground, a brand’s purpose, and its belief system: "Our brand believes the world is more beautiful because of the things that are different. Whether it's flavour, taste, geography, colour. That the world is more beautiful because of its diversity and in fact, there's unity in that, and that is something to be celebrated and a bit like a chef celebrates different cuisine and creates fusions. We're kind of obsessed with at a human level saying that diversity is something that we are very, very passionate about because at a product level and at a human level, it's really important to us. Different is beautiful." The counter narrative Think about this through the lens of storytelling. Amy’s talking about counter narrative, a vision for relationships and community that stands in defiance of the popular ways of thinking. That is, we’ve become accustomed to political division, binary arguments, short attention spans and endless scrolling through social media feeds. T2’s vision, as brought alive through this video, dives deep into a different approach with a powerful message. We need to take time to slow down, listen to each other, be slow to judge and celebrate diversity. “We made a short film that was three minutes, which is the time that it takes to brew a decent cup of tea,” Amy explained on the podcast. “And in that three minutes, we were able to listen to four different poets tackle how it's felt to be on the end of unconscious bias, and we looked at transgender or sexual identity, ageism and race. “The poets themselves wrote the words. They're remarkable humans and I love the fact that poetry is coming back into culture again. Spoken word poetry is such a powerful force at the moment, but what was interesting is in that three minutes and the people that I'm showing it to, not one person has said they didn't get something out of it.” Confronting your identity Aside from the issues discussed, and great creative execution, Verse for Tea resonates with me because it’s a powerful lesson for all leaders, regardless of industry sector. Just how well do you understand your customers? What issues are they wrestling with? How well do you understand their Belief Journey, as I call it in Beliefonomics. That is, if you have a vision for and a belief in a just and fair society, how many of your customers have taken time to contemplate their role in making that happen? It’s worth asking the question, then putting your insights into action. If, like T2, you can foster conversations that matter to both your brand and its customers, growth will follow (T2’s online sales are up 30 percent during the pandemic, according to the AFR). This is the power of embracing the emotional high ground as a key expression of purpose. It’s an approach that looks beyond the limitations of traditional competition. Any brand can tell the world it’s the best, fastest, most worthy producer of beverages, widgets or services. But few can confidently claim they’re making the world a better place and telling stories that invite us to become believers. Perhaps Verse of Tea is a clever teacher. A universe-i-tea, as it were, for those of us aspiring to brew purpose and profit together in ever tastier ways. Keep believing, P.S. Share this blog on LinkedIn and I'll send you a gift-wrapped and signed copy of my book AND a special T2 surprise gift as a thank you. Tag me, and a friend or colleague, and I'll gladly send a book and gift to the person you tag as well! Find me on LinkedIn. MARK JONES is a brand strategist, author and keynote speaker. His purpose is to inspire more people to use the power of storytelling to change their world. Find out more at markhjones.net and subscribe to receive his weekly blog direct to your inbox.

Few companies evoke a sense of admiration and goodwill like Patagonia. Famous for its eco-friendly apparel, it’s a poster child for purpose-driven business. Its mission statement says it all: “We’re in business to save our home planet.” Sign me up. For any leader aspiring to rally a team around a mission statement, Patagonia is worth studying: it practices what it preaches. For example, it was the first company to give one percent of annual sales to the environment, inspiring others to follow. It’s also published an impressive catalogue of written and video content documenting its environmental activities. Any business leader would do well to emulate its Roaring Journals blog and take an idea or three from its Business Unusual page. Patagonia has also consistently driven growth around core values, one of which is to cause no unnecessary harm. Then we’ve got what I call its belief statement, also known as the company vision: “A love of wild and beautiful spaces demands participation in the fight to save them.” This is the cornerstone of Patagonia’s identity and purpose in the world. It knows words are useless without sustained action, and even activism. Let's briefly look at how it's using storytelling to advance its purpose and mission, and what lessons you can learn. Patagonia’s latest work, a feature film released on 25 September called Public Trust: The Fight for America’s Public Lands, fits well in the activism mould. It’s described as a feature-length documentary about America’s system of public lands and the fight to protect them. Patagonia founder, and author of Let My People Go Surfing, Yvon Chouinard spent years personally defending Public Lands in the United States, as illustrated by his starring role in this TV ad in 2017. Summarising the issue, Chouinard says: “Public lands have never been more threatened than right now because you have a few self-serving politicians who want to sell them off and make money. Behind the politicians are the energy companies and the big corporations that want to use up those national resources. It’s just greed.” Now 81 years old, Chouinard is back with Public Trust. Joined by iconic actor and activist Robert Redford as executive producer, he's released a 1.5 hour documentary exposing the extent to which political and special interests continue to exploit precious public lands (click here for the official trailer). It features interviews with tribal leaders, journalists, and activists fighting to protect lands that have traditionally been free and open for any citizen, honing in on Bears Ears National Monument in Utah, Boundary Waters Wilderness in Minnesota, and Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. It looks at the issues through the eyes of Hal Herring, an investigative journalist from Montana who’s exposed the extent to which special interests have swayed politicians. It’s a story about equality, fairness, corruption, greed, environmental destruction and the sheer relentlessness of the oil and gas industry. Timing is everything Public Trust comes at a critical point in American history. Just weeks before the election, it attacks the Trump administration's efforts to reduce the size of Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante, opening the door for mining, oil and gas. It also details Trump’s winding back of Obama-era environmental protections, his undermining of the Antiquities Act, created to give Presidents the power to quickly protect historic and significant sites and create national monuments. Meanwhile in a parallel universe, serendipity is apparently at play. Netflix recently published David Attenborough’s ‘witness statement’, A Life on Our Planet. A masterful, emotive documentary in its own right, the messaging couldn’t be better timed. The scale of environmental destruction witnessed by Attenborough in his lifetime is unprecedented, and will dramatically alter life on this planet for the generation of children born today. While the famous naturalist is hopeful about our ability to make the necessary changes to avert disaster (more biodiversity, stable populations, sustainable energy, more trees etc), his message is a clarion call. His view is we simply can’t continue treating the world as an infinite resource when it remains finite. The point? Public awareness of climate change and its impact on our environment is taking ground as a mainstream issue. If you’re a company like Patagonia with a lifelong cause forming your identity, there’s been no better time to go big with activism. For most corporate leadership teams, however, it could be a bridge too far. Fear of the unknown, of upsetting some customers, or simply wanting to avoid the intensity of public relations battles are enough to prevent them from carving out their own battlefield like Patagonia. Yet here, there’s no such fear. The cause is simply too important - once public lands are sold to oil and gas, they’re gone forever. It turns out this question of fear is a good litmus test for aspirational, purpose-driven leaders. Sure, you’ve got a great cause. But just how far are we willing to go to turn your beliefs into a sustainable movement? Are you willing and able to put your money where your belief is, to adapt a common phrase? It might just be time to take those corporate values a little more seriously. Keep believing, Mark Jones is an author, brand strategist and former journalist determined to inspire more leaders to use the power of storytelling to change the world for good. You can buy his book here or book him to speak at your next client or team event and take advantage of his full production team and Certified Virtual Presenter status to give your guests a memorable, professional and interactive experience. www.markhjones.net