There was a shuffling to my far left and a quick glance revealed only the back of public relations legend Lynne Franks as she rooted in a bag under the table. The black clad presentation team in the centre of the room was looking apprehensive as she emerged with a handful of tabloid newspapers. Her voice rang out, ‘Stop Jane, this isn’t us, this is so formal and corporate. We are not like that. We know people, we are connected – let’s throw that (the presentation) away and I’ll tell you about what you need to do”
Recovery and Renewal
The story had begun back in July 1992 when I suggested to Allan Leighton that ASDA could half its PR expenditure on agency support. My view was that the extant agency did not meet the urgent demands of a business that was fighting for recovery after recently staving off bankruptcy. Saving more than half a million pounds in annual cost (about a million pounds at 2022 rates) was not an insignificant sum.
I had joined ASDA three months earlier as the share price fell to its lowest and only six months after an emergency rights issue had helped stave off bankruptcy. Archie Norman had been parachuted in by the October to lead a turnaround that would become a Harvard Business School Case Study. The military metaphor reflects his later comment about crisis situations that when you’re the leader and you’ve landed in the jungle your team expect you to know which way to march.
I shortlisted three agencies after initial discussions around a brief which could have been distilled into two simple lines. Get one piece of positive national media coverage every week at half the current expenditure. It was audacious because we were only third in terms of market share, no other retailer was close to achieving coverage that regularly and we wanted focus on the tabloids and TV that reached most of our customers, at a time when competitors were schmoozing the broadsheets.
Pitch Imperfect
Fast forward to 11 November 1992 as a panel of Archie, Allan, Paul Dowling (Corporate Affairs Director) and I were receiving presentations from the three agencies. The incumbent had declined to participate but had fought a bloody rearguard action accusing the entire in-house PR team of incompetence. And the presentations had not started well.
First up was a major PR name of the era who had FMCG and retail experience aplenty and a smooth pitch which featured, for reasons that escape me now, new technology that allowed shoppers to track their expenditure as they went round the store. It was really just a calculator connected to the trolley and it needed recharging every three hours, but it seemed heady stuff at the time. It was a terrific presentation up to the point where Archie asked the classic question, “How much?”
The answer of £1.1m went down like the proverbial bucket of sick. Archie looked to his right which was, unfortunately, my direction with an intensity that spelt real danger for wasting his time. I was totally gobsmacked that the agency, who had been given a very clear steer on fee and expenses expectations, had been quite so brazen.
Ninja Attack
It was fortunate that the presentations were strictly one hour in duration and there was no time to debate what we had seen before I was shooing them out and scuttling down the corridor to collect Lynne Franks PR. It was like entering a ninja convention with so many people dressed head to toe in black and grey. Lynne’s pink coat, plastic shopping bags and bohemian look provided a colourful counterpoint to her colleagues.
The presentation began with the ninjas – led by Jane Boardman the putative account director – using enormous boards with very few words on them to present. Big ideas, simple ideas, presented with conviction and style. It was compelling and controlled until the rustling in the corner started.
Emerging from under the desk Lynne threw a pile of newspapers on the desk and opened The Sun before ripping out a page and throwing it towards the bemused corporate team sitting in judgement on her agency. “That’s one of ours…,” another rip and the Daily Mirror page was despatched towards the bemused panel judging the presentation. “And so is that…,” the tearing frenzy continued.
In the centre of the room two presenters were frozen beside the gigantic boards. The strategic big picture was wilting under the intensity of a founder who had decided that the way to deal with sceptical suits was to show results here and now. I learnt later that Lynne had not been directly involved in preparing the pitch and had chosen to embark on a freelance mission of shock and awe with papers picked up at the airport that day.
It was clear that the dramatic intervention had captured Archie’s attention. Imagine the scene in Heat where De Niro and Pacino, as criminal and detective, discuss their ideologies while trying to psychoanalyze each other. Their biographies had Archie as Charterhouse, Cambridge, Harvard, McKinsey and FTSE100 while Lynne was Minchenden Grammar, shorthand/typing at Pitman’s College, a regular dancer on Ready Steady Go, journalist and PR company founder.
But the differences that existed in education, upbringing, gender, and career choices faded under the weight of a principal-to-principal moment and when the frenzied ripping paused Archie moved swiftly to the point. “Why would we believe you’re any different to every other PR agency?” It seemed obvious enough but Archie had a way of suckering mediocre people into obvious or rehearsed responses which were then flayed for lacking insight or interest. Being provocative, challenging, unexpected or even slightly crazy was always the better way to go.
Some key words in the response included “leverage”, “Lenny Henry”, “ASDA”. Lynne turned the world of public relations into a trading proposition where her agency had showbiz collateral and we could benefit. It was right in the sweet spot of a retail business mindset and bridged the gap to explain why an agency known for fashion and celebrity clients had something unique to offer a grocery store.
Eventually Lynne’s explanation dried up and she looked to the team as if a little shocked at her own intervention. Without comment, Jane picked up as if nothing had happened. It was a characteristic unflappability and focus on delivery which marked the following years of leading the team that worked with ASDA.
Although attention moved back to the big boards it was like moving from heavy metal to soothing sonatas. All of the strategies, plans and processes made sense but we were still absorbing the Sturm und Drang. The good news for me was that the proposed budget came in smack on the nose at half the price of the incumbent.
Aries Rising
After the drama the third agency were competent but not even close. We discussed the balance between cost, experience, track record and potential and whether Lynne was key or we would even get any of her time. As it happened, she departed the business shortly after leaving a company where Samantha Royston in her late 20s was Managing Director and Julian Henry, still in his early thirties, was probably the elder amongst the management team.
The agreement was that Allan should visit their offices to see the operation. He arrived at least half an hour ahead of the scheduled time but the office desks were filled, as I later found out with many friends and relatives, even further in advance. It was set on Harrow Road W9 and far away from the bright lights and high costs of the West End – another tick in the box for a client whose operating principles included “we hate waste”.
It was only as Allan was leaving that he passed Lynne sitting with her office door open. They said hello and she told him that she had been kept out of the way. When he confirmed he had seen enough to tell her that we would be signing up Lynne told him that she was an Aries and her horoscope had said it would be a good day. It is unclear if she knew that he was also born under the sign of the ram.
Outcomes Count
I never met Lynne Franks in person again and can only pay tribute to her extraordinary career as well as her influence as a spokesperson for women’s rights and sustainability. I am told that she liked to have all her media teams to have had some cold calling or other sales experience in their lives. It’s always seemed like good advice to me.
Following the appointment of LFPR, monthly measurement showed that ASDA’s national PR coverage consistently trounced the sector competitors. The company’s recovery and renewal saw it eventually being sold to WalMart for £6.7bn in 1999. The LFPR and in-house PR team deserve recognition for their part in building a reputation that supported this outcome.
NOTES
It’s impossible to remember everyone but a few thanks.
Jane Boardman (now CEO at M&C Saatchi Talk) who led the team and Graham Goodkind (Chairman of Frank PR). The PR powerhouse that is Sue Finnegan (founder of proof PR), who I later recruited to join the in-house team, and other colleagues including Tanya Hughes, Frankie, Lambert, Dorcas Jamieson and Francesca Lee. LFPR was overseen during the time by Samantha Royston Wainstein (now Chair of the Mark Milsome Foundation), as MD then as CEO and Chair. Julian Henry went on to found Henry’s House and is now Global Head of Communications for XIX Entertainment.
LFPR worked with the in-house team including Julie Eaton (later of Hill and Knowlton and recognized in the prestigious World Press Photo Awards 2014), Kathryn Williamson (later head of global PR for British Airways and now Director of Communications for English Rugby), Jeni Cropper and Victoria Wick, who all helped make the difference. It’s fair to say it was a talented team.
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