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THE ART OF CLIENT SERVICE.

by ROBERT SOLOMON.

FOREWORD.

I wish that I had written this book. I should have. I could have. Many of us could have. But only Robert Solomon did it. wish that I had written this book. I should have. I could have. Many of us could have. But only Robert Solomon did it.

I am sure Robert has heard these words many times since he introduced The Art of Client Service The Art of Client Service in 2003 and its predecessor, in 2003 and its predecessor, Brain Surgery for Suits, Brain Surgery for Suits, in 2000. Each and every one of us in the advertising and marketing services business should be using the concepts in this book. The ideas discussed within these pages are simply universal and timeless. Whether you are a junior account person just starting out or the leader of the largest independent media planning and buying operation in the world, in 2000. Each and every one of us in the advertising and marketing services business should be using the concepts in this book. The ideas discussed within these pages are simply universal and timeless. Whether you are a junior account person just starting out or the leader of the largest independent media planning and buying operation in the world, The Art of Client Service The Art of Client Service applies to what we do right now, right here, every day. applies to what we do right now, right here, every day.

Like Robert, I come from the business side of advertising. And like hundreds of other industry professionals, for every experience he shares in the book, I have a similar example, both positive and negative. That is why this book is a must-have tool for anyone working with clients. At Carat, we've purchased hundreds of copies of Robert's books and made them required reading for our account managers.

Robert was the first advertising industry professional to record the concepts that will make us better account people, and he is among the few who are willing to share with readers examples of what not to do. Robert encourages young, rising professionals not to repeat the mistakes of the past. And with this book, he shows readers old and new to the industry how to avoid those mistakes.

One of my favorite stories about The Art of Client Services The Art of Client Services is one that I've told many times. One of our senior account managers at Carat approached me after I sent him a copy of Robert's book. He strode up confidently after a meeting and said he'd just finished reading the book on a flight from Los Angeles. It's a pretty short and easy read, he remarked. He added there wasn't one thing in the book that he didn't already know, and he didn't understand the hoopla and praise I had heaped on it. is one that I've told many times. One of our senior account managers at Carat approached me after I sent him a copy of Robert's book. He strode up confidently after a meeting and said he'd just finished reading the book on a flight from Los Angeles. It's a pretty short and easy read, he remarked. He added there wasn't one thing in the book that he didn't already know, and he didn't understand the hoopla and praise I had heaped on it.

I looked at him and simply said, "Good. Now go out and do it."

That's the great thing about Robert's writing and the book itself. It's full of practical common sense and information we can apply in our day-to-day roles. Like the famous Nike slogan, the key is to "Just Do It."

The book has had a major impact on me and the organization that I lead, Carat Americas. When I arrived a few years ago, Carat was in the middle of growth spurt. We had surpa.s.sed 1,200 employees, expanded to 20 offices around the world, and had annual billings exceeding $5 billion. Despite this growth, I was concerned about one thing: client service. While I was happy with our growth, I was troubled because our growing team, our work, and our success could overshadow the most important thing in our business-our clients.

With that in mind, I invited Robert to present at the Carat Management Conference. I gave Robert the charge to make the case for client service to more than 300 of Carat's senior management team. Certainly, we were all content with Carat's success and felt we had been doing many of the right things to help our business and our clients. The challenge was, "How do we build upon the momentum and keep the success from going to our collective head?"

The book and Robert's presentation reinforced a focus on client service that keeps us headed in the right direction. The people in the room were reminded why client service matters, and they took that message to their teams throughout Carat. Since then, I have been an advocate of The Art of Client Service, The Art of Client Service, frequently pa.s.sing out copies to employees and referencing its concepts in presentations and meetings. frequently pa.s.sing out copies to employees and referencing its concepts in presentations and meetings.

One of the things that Robert often talks about is the first rule of client service: "no surprises." In The Art of Client Service, The Art of Client Service, you will find no surprises; rather, you will find unchanging concepts and simple anecdotes that will remind you what you can do to create great work, build strong client relationships, and become a great account person in any service organization. you will find no surprises; rather, you will find unchanging concepts and simple anecdotes that will remind you what you can do to create great work, build strong client relationships, and become a great account person in any service organization.

Regardless of how many versions of the book Robert publishes, the foundation of The Art of Client Service The Art of Client Service is the same: client service matters. is the same: client service matters.

I have only one more thing to say, and it follows the advice in the final chapter of this book: thank you, Robert.

David Verklin CEO Carat Americas Chairman Carat Asia-Pacific May 2007

BEFORE YOU START.

And then I got fired . . .

And I found myself out of work for the first time in more than 20 years. But I'm getting ahead of my story. Let me start at the beginning.

After six-plus years at Ammirati Puris Lintas, most recently as president of its direct and interactive divisions, I set out on my own. I had been working for others- before Ammirati at Foote Cone & Belding and before that at a predecessor to the agency known as Digitas-but I wanted to see if I could put my name on the door of something that was mine.

I founded Solomon Strategic in 1999. At first, business was great; I had lots of clients, including the agency I'd just left. Just as one a.s.signment would end, I would get another client's call. Business was easy; I actually felt halfway smart.

But those were the late '90s, when almost everyone dreamed of the next big idea and the private equity firms were the tooth fairies. It was as if every new venture could find a backer with an open checkbook.

One day, my friend Phil Palazzo called to say, "I've got the money to launch an idea, now all I need is the idea." My response was, "If you have the money, I sure as h.e.l.l have the idea." With that, Phil and I founded what would be the first design-centric holding company-The Design Communications Group-backed with private equity from Jordan Industries.

Phil and I spent a year building the business. In August 2001, we were about to close on our first two acquisitions when Jordan ran into "capital allocation" problems (whatever those are) and pulled the plug on our venture. We were surprised by the suddenness of the change, but Jay Jordan was generous and accommodating, and we parted on good terms.

But if our idea was going to evolve from a PowerPoint presentation to a business, we would need another backer. With Jordan's support, we trolled for a new venture capital partner.

Then, on a beautiful late summer morning, as I was about to head uptown from my lower Manhattan apartment, my wife Roberta reported a frightening, thunderous sound overhead. "Something awful just happened," she said.

We turned on the TV: a report from the World Trade Center, soon followed by another. We watched from the street as the South Tower fell. It was September 11, 2001.

The vastness of the tragedy was overwhelming and incomprehensible, but the fallout, for us, was real and immediate. For starters, there would be no new financing, no Design Communications Group. There would be no new consulting, either, as advertising sought to regain its footing in the wake of a disaster.

After a few months of futility, Phil and I agreed we had to focus on something more pressing than private equity: finding jobs.

So in the summer of 2002, in need of a salary more than anything else, I joined Rapp Collins as CEO of the New York office. The challenge before me was daunting: five rounds of layoffs over the previous two years had left the shop decimated, demoralized, and fearful. The previous president had been fired a year before I arrived. In the interim, the agency's chairman did his best to run the office as acting chief, but his attention was needed elsewhere, and it showed. The agency continued to lose clients, money, and staff. If ever there was a doom loop, this was it.

I got down to business, only to face more setbacks, the results of problems that had been neglected for too long. I improved the work, recognized talented people who stayed, sh.o.r.ed up restless clients. But even so, I met subversive resistance along the way from people who liked the agency the way it was and rebelled at change. There were very few happy moments in days punctuated with disappointment.

One of those happy moments was the publication of the first edition of The Art of Client Service. The Art of Client Service. I was proud of writing something other than a proposal or a presentation, something that actually could prove useful to people. The book sold well, and I received encouraging emails from people who found it to be a bit of salvation. I was proud of writing something other than a proposal or a presentation, something that actually could prove useful to people. The book sold well, and I received encouraging emails from people who found it to be a bit of salvation.

Yet the book laid bare a serious problem. I offered a complimentary copy to anyone at the agency who would stop by my office for the book. With few exceptions, there were no takers. I knew I wasn't winning the popular vote-mostly because I had to fire people who clearly were not performing effectively-but this was a chilling condemnation.

In the spring of 2003, we found a way out of our continuing downturn through a major pitch that would involve most of the agency's U.S. offices. All we had to do was win.

Our chairman was leading the effort, but then he was forced to the sidelines by a serious illness. The agency turned to me. Against my better judgment, I a.s.sumed the lead. My reservations were well founded; it soon became clear that I wasn't what the client wanted in a leader.

It was a long, hard fight. But in the end, we lost the pitch.

And then I lost my job. After ten months leading an agency that I had no business even working for, I was out.

All of us know the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I wasn't quite able to manage that number. There were moments of anger and depression, but mostly I was relieved at the outcome. Being fired offered a chance to return to a business I knew and loved but somehow had lost sight of while trying to survive at an agency that didn't know what it meant to be great.

A couple of weeks later, I got a call from my former Ammirati colleagues Steve Gardner and Tom Nelson. They had been quietly building Gardner Nelson & Partners, and they saw a need and an opportunity to add direct marketing to their capabilities. Was I interested?

I didn't think twice. I had partnered with Steve and Tom when I was at Ammirati, and this was an opportunity to pick up where I'd left off.

I have been at Gardner Nelson & Partners ever since, first as a full-time staffer, more recently as a regular, retained consultant.

Most account people are very much in touch with what you might call "the law of unintended consequences." They know that anything they do might lead to unexpected results. And that is what happened with me in my new job.

I had previously headed three different agencies, and in each case, I was supported by a full complement of experts in media, in production, in creative, and of course, account management. In 1999, when I sat down to write and self-publish Brain Surgery for Suits, Brain Surgery for Suits, which would become which would become The Art of Client Service The Art of Client Service in 2003, I could report on what I in 2003, I could report on what I believed believed made a good account person. But I had limited firsthand experience. made a good account person. But I had limited firsthand experience.

When I arrived at Gardner Nelson, I had an opportunity to see if my opinions were true. I held the t.i.tle of "managing partner," but I was actually a line account guy, responsible for every facet of bringing an idea to life. I was deeply involved in creative, media, and production. If there was a conference report to write, I wrote it. A schedule-the same. A budget-that, too. I spoke with and emailed clients every day. If there was a problem, it was mine to solve.

All of the things I talked about in the book, I now actually had to do. do.

Yesterday, I sat down and re-read the previous edition of The Art of Client Service The Art of Client Service cover to cover. And this is what I found to be true: cover to cover. And this is what I found to be true: All of it.

Over the past four years, I had taken my own advice. I discovered that if you follow the principles outlined in this book, you will, in fact, have happier clients and well-supported colleagues. Most of the time, this approach will ensure more enduring relationships built on trust.

But as thorough as The Art of Client Service The Art of Client Service tried to be, a few things were missing. With this edition, I try to fill in the blanks. tried to be, a few things were missing. With this edition, I try to fill in the blanks.

The book starts with an introduction by David Verklin, CEO of media agency Carat Americas, published author, renowned speaker, and generally all-around nice guy. David knows the impact of consistent client service on an agency's bottom line and is a pa.s.sionate advocate for making it a priority in his organization.

The new edition continues with a section that asks, "Does Advertising Matter?" Here, I suggest you don't need to be an account executive or to work in advertising to get something meaningful and rewarding from this book.

After that, I propose "Why Client Service Matters," in which I make the business case for why it is so important to have account people who truly care about the business, who are truly invested in its success.

Lots of new books have been published since I wrote the annotated bibliography that appears in Chapter 57 Chapter 57. I still recommend all 15 of the books that I recommended in 2003, but there are 5 notable additions to the list as well.

In revisiting the book, what seemed to be missing was greater substance on communication. Although Chapter 6 Chapter 6 included useful information on writing a creative brief, the previous edition was silent on the other forms of writing account people typically engage in, especially letters of proposal and PowerPoint presentations. That's why included useful information on writing a creative brief, the previous edition was silent on the other forms of writing account people typically engage in, especially letters of proposal and PowerPoint presentations. That's why Chapter 44 Chapter 44 is devoted to "How to Write a Letter of Proposal" and is devoted to "How to Write a Letter of Proposal" and Chapter 45 Chapter 45 decodes "The Zen of PowerPoint." decodes "The Zen of PowerPoint."

In recent years, technology has had a profound impact by enabling people to research practically anything, a phenomenon that I address in Chapter 46 Chapter 46, "In a Hi-Tech World, Be Low-Tech."

I devote an entire section of the book to "Trouble," but I have a new and particularly embarra.s.sing story to share, which I relate in Chapter 51 Chapter 51, "What Happens When I Screw Up?"

Somewhere in this book, I point out that the difference between good creative work and great creative work can be the thinnest of margins and that the enemy of great great is not is not bad bad but but good good. Having worked with clients day-today, I realize the same is true of client service: the enemy of great great is is good. good. Which is why, even if you are familiar with the previous edition of Which is why, even if you are familiar with the previous edition of The Art of Client Service, The Art of Client Service, I suggest that you revisit the chapters you read earlier. There is much worth remembering in those pages. I suggest that you revisit the chapters you read earlier. There is much worth remembering in those pages.

As I look back on Brain Surgery for Suits Brain Surgery for Suits and the first edition of and the first edition of The Art of Client Service, The Art of Client Service, I think of this current book as the third, and perhaps final, stage of learning what it really means to work at client service every day in a way that can make a difference. I'm hoping this time I got it a little more right. I think of this current book as the third, and perhaps final, stage of learning what it really means to work at client service every day in a way that can make a difference. I'm hoping this time I got it a little more right.

In the introduction to the previous edition of The Art of Client Service, The Art of Client Service, I talked about William Strunk and E. B. White's I talked about William Strunk and E. B. White's The Elements of Style The Elements of Style and how I hoped that my book someday would be viewed in a similar light. This edition shares with its predecessors a focus on the fundamentals that define outstanding client service. If it helps you solve even just one problem or teaches you just one new idea or technique, then it will have served its purpose well. and how I hoped that my book someday would be viewed in a similar light. This edition shares with its predecessors a focus on the fundamentals that define outstanding client service. If it helps you solve even just one problem or teaches you just one new idea or technique, then it will have served its purpose well.

If not, it's comforting that the book's brevity, levity, and clarity make for fast and relatively painless reading. And failing that, at least the cartoons are funny.

INTRODUCTION.

Does Advertising Matter?

Well, it does to me. But as I was rereading this book, I wasn't thinking about advertising. I thought about my two bankers.

One is a large, well-known investment firm with a long-term track record of success. The other is a small firm that isn't nearly as well known (calling them a "boutique" confers more stature than is deserved) with a much shorter track record (more impressive if stated in months, not years). For business reasons, I recently felt the need to consolidate with one of the two banks.

Both banks performed well, with the larger bank performing better overall. Logic would dictate I go with the larger firm; at minimum, it would be much easier to justify in c.o.c.ktail party chatter. But for some reason, I hesitated.

One reason was that the larger bank had changed my rep three times in four years. The first time they made a switch, they invited me to a meeting and made a bit of a show to gain my buy-in, which I read as a way to keep me from bolting with the banker who'd just left. But at least they made an effort.

The second time they made a little less of a show. No meeting-instead they sent a letter. Shortly thereafter, I met my new rep; he sounded like a broker disguised as a banker. In our first meeting, I talked about liquidating some a.s.sets to take advantage of a real estate opportunity. In response, my new banker/broker reminded me of the bank's minimum investment threshold. That made me feel right at home.

Later, when I wanted to move some a.s.sets to cash, I felt strangely guilty. In fact, every time I asked for money, I felt as though I was asking my dad for my allowance, only my banker was a good bit younger than me.

In contrast, when I spoke to the smaller bank, they always seemed more relaxed and whole lot less judgmental. When asked, they offered good advice. When I had a question about a transaction, I could quickly get one of the partners on the phone to talk about it. Service was never an issue; it felt as though they wanted to keep my business. The bigger bank? I wasn't so sure.

I let the smaller bank know that I was considering a consolidation. They responded thoughtfully and without pressure. Let us know, they said; we'd be happy to help if we can. After many weeks of hand-wringing, I made a decision, which in reality was no decision at all. I chose the smaller bank.

After some protestations that betrayed a lack of graciousness, the banker at the bigger firm simply gave up. He made little effort to discover the reasons for my departure, which made me think it didn't really matter much and served to validate my choice.

Had this been a performance issue, my decision would have gone the other way. The bigger bank performed better. But it wasn't about performance; it was about service. And this made me think about The Art of Client Service. The Art of Client Service. Everything the smaller bank did right is contained in the pages of this book. Everything the smaller bank did right is contained in the pages of this book.

A good friend of mine-also an investment banker, I should add-reinforced this sentiment. "We live in a service economy," he said. "Everyone can benefit from The Art of Client Service. The Art of Client Service." He's right, of course.

Elsewhere in this book, I recommend Malcolm Glad-well's Blink. Blink. On pages 4041 of his book, Gladwell talked about the doctorpatient relationship: On pages 4041 of his book, Gladwell talked about the doctorpatient relationship: Believe it or not, the risk of being sued for malpractice has very little to do with how many mistakes a doctor makes. a.n.a.lyses of malpractice lawsuits show that there are highly skilled doctors who get sued a lot and doctors who make lots of mistakes and never get sued. . . .In other words, patients don't file lawsuits because they've been harmed by shoddy medical care. Patients file lawsuits because they've been harmed by shoddy medical care and Believe it or not, the risk of being sued for malpractice has very little to do with how many mistakes a doctor makes. a.n.a.lyses of malpractice lawsuits show that there are highly skilled doctors who get sued a lot and doctors who make lots of mistakes and never get sued. . . .In other words, patients don't file lawsuits because they've been harmed by shoddy medical care. Patients file lawsuits because they've been harmed by shoddy medical care and something else something else happens to them. happens to them. "What is that something else? It's how they were treated by their doctor. . . . It isn't necessary, then, to know much about how a surgeon operates in order to know his likelihood of being sued. What you need to understand is the relationship between the doctor and his patients. "What is that something else? It's how they were treated by their doctor. . . . It isn't necessary, then, to know much about how a surgeon operates in order to know his likelihood of being sued. What you need to understand is the relationship between the doctor and his patients.

There's more to Gladwell's doctor story than appears here, so I urge you to read the book. But his point is that relationships matter more than technical expertise.

The Art of Client Service will be helpful if you're a doctor, a lawyer, a banker, an accountant, a financial advisor, a consultant, an architect, a sales rep, or anyone else who cares about the relationship you forge with clients. Virtually all the lessons I draw on from my failures will be relevant and meaningful to you. will be helpful if you're a doctor, a lawyer, a banker, an accountant, a financial advisor, a consultant, an architect, a sales rep, or anyone else who cares about the relationship you forge with clients. Virtually all the lessons I draw on from my failures will be relevant and meaningful to you.

Even though advertising is important to me and I strive to do it better every day, you need not care at all about it to gain something useful from this book.

Why Client Service Matters If you are in advertising, you know that the only thing that really matters is the work.

Great work makes everyone want to be a part of the agency. Great work commands a price premium. Great work wins business.

It's no surprise that most agency people figure that if they do great work, everything else will take care of itself, including the relationships they build with clients. When I joined the advertising business, that's pretty much what I thought.

There's just one problem with this a.s.sumption: it's wrong.

Great work does not shield you or your agency from client loss. You can do great work and still get fired.

My former agency, Ammirati and Puris, did great work for BMW. The agency wrote the line, "the ultimate driving machine," which endures to this day. BMW kept the line, but they didn't keep the agency.

Ammirati and Puris is not alone. TBWA/Chiat Day did great work for Taco Bell. It's no longer Taco Bell's agency. Deutch did great work for Ikea. It's no longer working with Ikea. BBDO did great work for Charles Schwab. It's no longer Schwab's agency.

You can make your own list; it probably will be longer than mine. So what went wrong? We know it wasn't the work. The work was great.

Then I thought about all the agencies whose work fell short of the mark yet somehow managed to hold onto the business. One of the best examples is Fallon and United Airlines.

After Fallon won the United business, it launched the "Rising" campaign. Wrong message, wrong time. People knew travel was h.e.l.l; they were tired of the empty promises most airlines made. Yet the "Rising" ads clung to notions of romanticism that every savvy traveler knew to be false.

Not surprisingly, the campaign met uniform criticism. Fallon is a terrific agency, but this was bad advertising.

So bad, in fact, that you would think United would have gone searching for another agency. But they didn't. They stayed with Fallon until Fallon got it right.

Why was that? One report claimed that the close personal relationship between Pat Fallon and United's chairman kept the agency in good graces, even when its work was far from stellar.

What went right? We know that it wasn't the work.

I used to think that great work would lead to a great relationship. Now I think the opposite: a great relationship leads to great work. The reason is pretty simple.