This Measurement Life, Chapter 3:
The Continuing Adventures of
Marketing Martha and Bottomline Bob

Research Takes On The Ivory Tower
or,
Measurement is kind to our web-footed friends

by Katharine Delahaye Paine

When we last left them, Martha and Bob were amorously basking in the afterglow of surviving a Board of Director's challenge to Martha's Community Relations program. It made a strange sort of sense, therefore, when they found themselves embroiled in a community conflict that was a direct result of bad community relations by their local university.

After their marriage, Bob and Martha settled in Collegeville, a small town about 30 miles from corporate headquarters. Given the busy nature of their jobs, neither Martha nor Bob had much time to read the local paper, let alone get involved in local politics.

But one morning Martha got an email from a neighbor regarding a development the local college planned to build on nearby wetlands, locally known as Lesser Fields. In their meanderings around town, Martha and Bob had frequently paused by these wetlands to watch with wonder as what seemed like millions of geese used the field as a landing strip and rest stop.

Remembering this rural scene, and having had at least one cup of coffee too many that morning, Martha flew into a full-fledged rage. “Did you see this?” she shrieked at her startled husband.

“No, what?” Bob replied, fearing nuclear attack or something worse from the sound of Martha’s voice.

“The College is planning to dig up Lesser Fields and put in a soccer stadium,” Martha growled.

“That’s nice,” Bob replied, “the town needs more recreational facilities.” He returned to his Financial Times.

“Not on OUR wetlands!” Martha retorted.

“But it’s just a soccer field—it’s not like they’re putting up a building or anything,” Bob responded with a sigh.

“But the birds won’t come back if there are dozens of yelling kids and parents there. And besides, they’re talking stadium seating and concession stands and fertilizer running off into our water supply,” Martha shot back.

With considerable trepidation, Bob asked, “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Tell some people. The Planning Board is having a meeting tomorrow night, we have to be there.” Martha declared.

“But that’s the night …” Bob saw the look in Martha’s eyes and acquiesced. “I’ll rearrange my schedule.”

That day at work Martha put up a quick Web site to serve as a central information point for th opposition. She also emailed everyone she knew who cared about the environment, was a bird watcher or was concerned about increasing traffic in the area and preserving the rural character of the town. She got a copy of the town’s master plan and brought it home. She and Bob spent the evening poring over the details.

Bob, in the meantime, had made some inquiries and searched the Internet for information about the College, its history with the town and the organization it planned to hire to manage the soccer fields. It didn’t make him feel overly warm and fuzzy about the project.

As it turned out, the College had a history of riding roughshod over the town’s wishes, building whatever and wherever it pleased with little regard for the resulting burdens placed on the town. Of greater concern were the dubious financials of the organization that would manage the facility.

Armed with as many facts as they could muster, Martha and Bob showed up at the Planning Board meeting. They were not alone. The meeting room was packed and the overflow filled the rest of town hall.

As they arrived, the College was proudly announcing a $6 million grant to build new facilities that would make the university one of the leading soccer schools in the country. They brought out soil scientists to explain that the land really wasn’t “wet” and that the environmental damage would be nil. There were a number of soccer moms and dads on hand to bemoan the area’s lack of recreational facilities.

Martha and Bob had their turn at the microphone, and their concerns were echoed by others. By the end of the evening it was clear that the will of the town was decidedly against the project. But, given the “governmental status” of the College, nothing the town said had to be heeded by the University. The hearing had only been for show.

The one outcome of getting all those people in one place was a new organization, “Save Lesser Fields,” that promptly had an emailing list of over 300 names. Martha was quickly named chair of the Public Relations Committee.

She had noticed that the meeting had been covered only by the hometown paper, so the next day she sent an email to the local National Public Radio reporter detailing the size of the meeting and mentioning some of the unsavory information Bob had unearthed. The following day she dropped similar hints to the local TV assignment desk editor while announcing a protest to take place on Lesser Fields the next day. She called a friend at USA Today and pitched him on the “David and Goliath” story as part of a broader national issue of the conflict between those wanting to preserve open space and politically powerful “soccer moms.”

In the meantime, Bob was using his network to put pressure on the College’s trustees. He posted sample letters on the Web site to launch a letter-writing campaign to the trustees, the media and the state’s lawmakers. As luck would have it, the legislature was in the process of approving the College’s budget at the time, so they were continuously bombarded with negative news about the College and the controversy. Bob called friends on the local legislative delegation and got them to introduce a law changing the “governmental use” statute that would make the University subject to local zoning ordinances.

At the end of another month, the Vice Chancellor for Communications was reviewing the College’s “dashboard,” which tracked donations, alumni and thought leader opinion, student applications and publicity results. Noticing the sharp rise in negative messages—particularily from the Internet—and a slight decline in requests for admission applications, the Chancellor brought the issue to the attention of the President.

The next day the College called a press conference to announce cancellation of the project and rejection of the $6 million grant. They also made a pointed commitment to improving Town-Gown relations by appointing senior staff members to the Town-Gown Committee, by working closely with town staff on a number of policing and safety issues, and agreeing to run any future plans by the Planning Board and the Town Council prior to moving forward.

Over champagne with their newfound neighbors and friends, Martha and Bob discussed the experience. “So this is how a crisis starts. It’s interesting to be on the other side,” Martha mused.

“I guess it’s just another reason to increase that Internet measurement budget,” Bob quipped.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realized that he’d said exactly the right thing. Seeing the warm and approving look in Martha’s eyes, he set down his glass, put his arm suggestively around her and whispered that perhaps it was time to go. His wife enthusiastically agreed.

Stay Tuned Next Issue: Bob is sent to Istanbul to straighten out the Middle Eastern business, while Martha drops in on London for some shopping and ends up implementing a global PR measurement program.