A new bagel shop opened in our neighborhood a few weeks ago. I took a picture on Sunday morning because I am not kidding: People wait for hours to get one. The great thing about living here, apart from that our rent is a little pricey, is that I’m around on a Thursday. And on Thursday, there’s a lot less of a line. So much less, in fact, that I managed to snag one of these bagels as a treat, after a dermatology appointment. She’d cut off a mole and I thought, “well, if that’s not an excuse to treat myself to a fancy bagel, now, what is?”
Behold, the salmon with cream cheese on everything, toasted! Here’s the thing. This bagel was pretty good. But. Would I have lined up for an hour or two on a Sunday morning to get one? No. No bagel is that good. And the weird thing about this one is there are dozens of other bagel shops in the neighborhood. You can get a pretty good bagel at any of them. I don’t understand the fetishization of a simple, comforting staple. How can you line up for hours for a bagel? What’s next?
Hype drives me a little nuts. Still, this country’s lines have struck me ever since I first moved here in 2006. If a brunch place is any good, people will be lining up around the block on a Sunday for it. If a bagel is good, same. And recently, a coffee shop opened on the corner of Seventh Avenue and Perry, with “legends only” on the door. For some reason this seems to have convinced people they should line up 20-people-deep to get a latte. It’s insane.
The herd mentality extends into various areas of the American psyche. It’s the Groucho Marx principle in reverse: You only want to be a member of a club that’s hard to get into. It explains why the more expensive stores in the city hire ruder staff. Because we all want to believe we’ll make the cut. I’ve even found myself in a $200 candle store, thinking “I should buy a couple because that’ll show the staff.” It’s a trap!
When it comes to hiring a PR agency, people think in similar terms. They want to know that they’re working with people other people want to work with. They want to pay a lot for the advice. They want to feel like they’re working with people who are working with other people they also value. All I’ll say is, PR and strategic communications are not that complicated. What I do for a living is a bit like making a bagel. There are bagel shops all over the place! I wouldn’t suggest you line up for my services any more than you should line up for somebody else’s. But ask yourself: Do you want to work with a PR agency for any of the following reasons?
- They have a fancy office (which you’ll be subsidizing).
- Their CEO seems charismatic (don’t worry, you’ll never see them again after the pitch is over).
- They’ve promised to throw a dozen staff at your issue (and bill you for all their hourly rates).
- They talk about their client list as if you’d be lucky to be on it (oof).
If you’re meeting with an agency, try asking some of these questions, instead:
- What’s the difficult advice you don’t think I’ll want to hear that would help me get the attention I deserve?
- If you were going to pitch my organization out as a change-maker in our field in five years, what’s the long-term project we should be starting now to make that successful?
- Why should we hire you when we have a good in-house communications person or team? What can you do that they can’t?
- How many of your clients are paying a monthly retainer of $20,000 to ignore your advice?
- If we pay you a monthly retainer, will you insist on giving us value for money and delivering good results?
- Have you ever felt guilty about under-servicing a prestigious client?
- How many clients does your average account executive serve?
- What’s the most outrageous waste of money you’ve ever seen spent on strategic communications or PR?
How convincing do you find their answers? If you’re working with an agency now, ask them some of the same questions. Then call me if you’re unconvinced. Likewise, next time I go in that bagel shop, I’m going to ask them, “would you line up for an hour for one of these?” and I guarantee that if they’re honest, they’ll say “you must be joking.” And then, there’s a far higher chance that when it’s empty on another Thursday, I’ll go back. Because I value trust and authenticity in my supplier relationships. And so should you.
Thanks for reading, as always. Please share this with anybody you feel might appreciate it.
—Matt Davis is a communications consultant and writer for a wide variety of clients. He also teaches yoga and lives with his wife and son in New York
