Читать книгу Strong Woman: The Truth About Getting to the Top - Karren Brady - Страница 8

So at 18 I was on my way. Yet to some people it might have seemed that I had scuppered my chances at the very first hurdle. It had been crystal clear at my interview at Saatchi & Saatchi that I was not quite as creative as the world’s top advertising agency might want their staff to be.

At one point I was shown a picture of a cornfield and asked what I saw. ‘A cornfield?’ was my blunt reply. Then they showed me a picture of a cornfield in blue, and asked me again what I saw. ‘A blue cornfield.’ When they showed me the same picture in red, I knew what they were expecting – some arty-farty interpretation, which I could have waffled on about – but instead I said the opposite: ‘This is a red cornfield.’

And while I can see how you might explain this to a client as something deep and meaningful, which communicates their brand in an imaginative way, I think it’s important that the staff at any organisation are allowed to see things logically and are not afraid to call things as they see them – internally, at least. We’re not all Picassos, and that’s fine.

As it was, the creative director interviewing me laughed and asked me a final question: ‘If you had to choose between an Yves Saint Laurent coat and a Marks & Spencer’s coat, which would you choose?’

Well, I pondered, and replied: ‘It depends on who’s paying.’

That was on the Friday and I started work on the Monday. What I drew from that was that my interviewers had understood I was different, that I had spoken up for myself, and that I would stand out. I was not creative – I can’t even draw a stick man – but I had something else to offer: I was professional, direct and mature. Far more mature than any other 18-year-old they had met. And I had left a lasting impression, which was ultimately more useful to me than being able to talk convincingly about the meaning of some blue corn. Just as well, because that was not me.

Yes, I was a teenager, but they saw that I wanted to go places. I had incredible energy and strength of character, which came from my confidence, and I wasn’t afraid of anything. That meant that when I started work I threw myself into every aspect of life at the company.

And I was happy to do so. It amazes me that people spend tens of thousands of pounds on working hard at university but when they’re being paid tens of thousands of pounds by an employer they begrudge the hard work and dedication it takes to get what you want.

On one occasion, someone asked me if I played tennis, as one of the Mr Saatchis was having a tournament at his house and someone on the team had gone sick. I was county level, I said, when the truth, of course, was that I was the least sporty person I knew. I went anyway and established myself with the people who mattered. I grasped every opportunity to get my face known in that organisation, matching my ambition with an outward presence. It gave them confidence in me, and my age was irrelevant.

Making sure I looked the part, spoke the part, read every piece of material about the company, understood what every department within it did, meant that, while I was not creative in an artistic sense, I could communicate, give opinions and talk about any aspect of the company. I read about our clients, understood their businesses and made myself a valuable and indispensable member of a team. I was loyal and dedicated to the company. People knew from my attitude that I would never let them down, even at 18. There were plenty of people at Saatchi’s with degrees in business, art, design and technology. But I had things they did not have: personality, drive and a relentless energy.

That’s why I know that the person you are and your mind-set are at least as important as qualifications or background in relation to how successful you will be. Other than O and A levels, I don’t have any qualifications. Instead I put my success down to certain qualities. Some I was born with, some are a product of different influences, and some I have had to work to develop. Another person will have different strengths and different skills that they can develop.

That said, certain traits have been invaluable to me in my working life. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: confidence is always key. I have never let people put me down, make me feel inferior or say that I wasn’t good at something. It’s about being able to say, ‘I’m sorry, you may think that’s acceptable behaviour, but I don’t.’ I think that comes from that inner belief in myself – I have a very a strong core. To a certain extent I believe I was born with that, and I realise others will not feel the same, but it also came from a good basic education and the independence that boarding school gave me. It was there that I really learnt to rely on myself. Others will face different challenges in which they can begin to develop that self-reliance.

Tied to confidence, for me, is the ability to stand up for myself and to say what I think. I have never been particularly worried about offending people. When I was younger, people used to say to me, ‘Sometimes it’s easier to keep your mouth shut and get on with it,’ but I didn’t want to because I knew that then I’d lie in bed all night, thinking, I wish I’d said something. Other people might not be quite so outspoken – and it would be a boring world if we were all the same – but I do think that in life you regret what you didn’t do far more than what you did. You’ll always kick yourself for not saying what you thought at certain times and it can play on your mind for years. It’s not just the quick reply you wish you’d made – though of course that can be deeply satisfying! – it’s about making your mark, standing up for what you believe.

Even I have not always done this, and one occasion still rankles with me. I was in a meeting with the representative of a shopping centre where West Ham United had a shop with a two-year lease that could not be broken. I had been brought into the club as vice-chairman after David Sullivan and David Gold, who owns the high-street chain Ann Summers, took control in 2010.

My team was trying to do a deal to extend the lease for a much longer term but on a reduced rent – an offer that meant all parties had to compromise. But the person on the other side was so disgracefully rude to me and my staff that at one point I pushed the chair back, ready to get up and storm out.

Yet I didn’t walk away as, at the time, I didn’t think it would resolve anything. Looking back, nothing was resolved anyway, so I bitterly regret not telling the bloke to shove it. On the other hand, I’ve walked out on football deals, thrown agents out of my office, put my foot down and, ultimately, got what I wanted. There’s no need to be rude but sometimes plain speaking is the only answer. Of course, it’s easier to say what you think when it feels like there’s less on the line. That’s why I find that the deals in which you’re less tied to a certain outcome are the best deals you do – you tend to push harder. And there’s a lesson in that.

The twin sister of confidence is self-esteem. Self-esteem eliminates fear. There are a lot of people who would love to do something but they’re too frightened it won’t work, or that if it does work, they won’t be able to cope with it. I am one of those people who always says yes, and then works out how it all fits in. I think I get that attitude directly from my father.

Yet self-esteem is an issue for many women, and I honestly don’t know why. I don’t know if it’s about education – whether there isn’t enough emphasis in schools on girls taking risks and pushing themselves forward. I’ve always had to make up for my lack of intellect with my drive, my work ethic and my personality. I think that if you do really well at school, you grow up believing things will come to you naturally because they always have. Then when you get out into the world and you’re not automatically the best at everything, and things don’t always go your way, it’s much more difficult to cope. If you’re always in the bottom half of the table, and you have ambition, you have to develop other skills to compensate.

I should add that what I see as self-esteem is predominantly about valuing yourself and your opinions, and not being afraid to voice them. When I was much younger, the ways in which I expressed – and developed – my self-esteem was by dressing well and sitting in the front row at any company meeting. When I spoke up, I ensured that I made a valuable and interesting contribution, which is vastly different from talking for the sake of it. I learnt never to belittle my contributions, and to say thank you when people paid me a compliment about my work. I didn’t say, ‘It’s nothing,’ because it wasn’t nothing. And if I didn’t value it, who would?

Never confuse self-esteem with being cocky, though. A know-all is worse than a know-nothing. But if you have knowledge of a subject you can voice an opinion confidently and make people start listening. You’ll start to form your reputation within an organisation. Being well-read, considered in your approach and making points that are worth listening to means that others will value your input. And understanding who you are and what you want out of life will help you discover the stepping stones to gaining the assurance you need. A confident person can say with ease, ‘I’m sorry, but what exactly are you asking me to do?’ when they are unclear about it. They won’t be afraid to ask and feel confused or worried.

My road map to understanding who I was and what I wanted to become started when I began to wonder, when I was at school, about the sort of company I wanted to work for; the sort of people I wanted to work with. Other people will find different paths to discovering these things, but that doesn’t matter – as long as you do.

So those are the fundamental elements of my mind-set. But how does it translate in the real world, and into dealing with other people on a day-to-day basis? With me, in the words of Lord Sugar, what you see is what you get. I am very straightforward. I’m one of the very few people I know who has been married for sixteen years, and I’ve still got the same friends I had when I was at school. I don’t get it right all the time, but I think those things are an achievement. They come down to the fact that my friends, family and the people around me know who I am, and I never feel the need to pretend to be anything else. Too often I see people present themselves as one person when actually they’re another, and at some point it always becomes clear that their life is built on quicksand.

There is never anything wishy-washy about my instructions: I’m always straight-talking and direct. Everyone who works for me knows exactly what I expect from them, exactly what their contribution is to the company and how they fit into the overall structure. This is both an asset and a coping mechanism, because I do so many things. I don’t have time to pretty things up. I can do it if I have to – if I’m the spokesperson for a particular issue, it may be part of the job – but the ability to do many things has always been at the heart of my work. There are simply not enough hours in the day to sit down, have a coffee and be sugary.

Instead I get people in and say, ‘Right, this is what we need to do, this is how I think we need to do it, this is your role, your contribution to the plan, and if the company is successful and you do your bit, this is how you will be rewarded.’ I take all emotion out of it and find I work well with others who share that philosophy. Lord Sugar operates in a very similar fashion. We would both say, however, that taking the emotion out of it doesn’t mean you have to be cold or unfeeling. It’s about being clear, precise and operationally succinct. Everyone should know in which direction they are going, who is doing what and why.

It is not about being a bully and it is most certainly not about stopping people’s progress. It is never ‘my way or the highway’. But it is about being able to make decisions and communicate them clearly. I was taught never to look down on people unless I was helping them up and I believe in this wholeheartedly. I also believe that you cannot judge anyone’s ability – for a promotion, for example – unless you have told them the judging criteria. If they know what you want, if they are clear on what they have to do, then they can get on and achieve. Working as a team should never be about guesswork.

Similarly, I have never needed flattery or sycophantic approval, and that may be because I never got it when I was young or perhaps because I care only about what those closest to me think: my family, my staff, my team. I know I’m good at what I do so I don’t care what people on the outside think. You can spend your whole life worrying about what people are saying about you, but you have no control over that. And the best way to deal with it is to develop a thick skin.

I am not a sensitive person, but my skin became even thicker when I first went to Birmingham City as managing director, after David Sullivan bought the club. Back then, the press thought I was a publicity stunt when I showed up in 1993 at the age of 23 to run a football club. As a woman, my looks and the way I dressed came under a lot of scrutiny. I couldn’t understand it – it wasn’t as though I was there to manage a team or play football: I had gone to run a business.

All that attention might have been a distraction. I couldn’t let that happen – I didn’t have time – so I decided that the only thing that mattered to me was that my chairman and bosses were pleased with what I was doing. If I was going to be used as a distraction, I would use it to help promote my business. If I had to appear in a football kit to make sure the sponsor paid a fortune and the picture made the front page, so be it. But I did it with a purpose and I didn’t let myself be bothered by what the man down the road thought – and that’s how I think today. I’m confident in the work I’m doing, I’m confident my board is happy, and that’s all that matters.

Another thing that I really believe has been key to my own success is personality – a bit of presence, or charm, you might call it. I can walk up to people to talk, and make an impression that stays with them. It helps if you enjoy that kind of thing, of course, but if you don’t, it’s that old philosophy of mine: what’s to lose?

When I was first working for David Sullivan, he was doing a lot of business with Northern and Shell, the big publishing company owned by Richard Desmond. There was some problem that was proving hard to resolve, so the 19-year-old me offered to go over and talk to Richard and see if we could sort it out. I think David had tried everything, and he knew I was dogged and determined, so he said yes.

Within a couple of hours Richard and I had sorted out a deal that everybody was happy with. An issue that had been threatening two organisations was resolved. He offered me a job on the spot. ‘You’ve so impressed me I want you to come and work for me,’ he said.

I said, ‘OK. You’ve got to pay me 38 grand a year and you’ve got to give me a car.’ Remember, this was 1987, so that was a lot of money, never mind for a teenager. He wouldn’t pay it. I never heard back from him.

Then, 20 years later, when he had taken over the Express newspapers, he rang and invited me to lunch. When we met he told me, ‘I’ve followed your career. I’ve seen you rise.’ Then he said, ‘Something that you can never have known is that the night you asked me for 38 grand I went out to dinner with a group of bankers and I said to them, “I’ve spent the day with the most impressive teenager I’ve ever met, but she wants 38 grand a year, and it would really upset the applecart in my company to give a 19-year-old that much money.”’

Apparently the bankers said, ‘Well, if she’s that good give her the money,’ but Richard had decided that it would make things too difficult in the ranks.

‘That is such a huge regret of mine,’ he told me, those two decades later. He had been thinking about it for years, he said, and told me he wasn’t surprised to see that I had on gone to be a success – and that he was now ready to pay me 38 grand a year! Obviously, my price had gone up a bit since then, never mind inflation. We laughed about it, and I call him a friend.

After all, he’s a character similar to me. He will follow his ambitions wherever it takes him. He will take on established organisations, with established methods, and change them. He also knows that to change something and change it for the better are two very different things. Richard changes things for the better and is able to establish both a creative energy and a strong business sense across his organisations. To be able to encourage excellence and integrity is a rare talent. Incidentally, Saatchi’s stood for those qualities in the ’80s and that was why it was one of the most fantastic places on the planet to work.

So, I know that I have the sort of personality that can open doors with certain types of people. And, again, it’s about playing to your strengths and using your skills in the best way possible. I suspect that in a more corporate, grey-suited environment I would scare people to death: I’d never toe the company line if I didn’t believe in it. And I do like to be in charge of setting the strategy, the company ethos, what we believe in and how we demonstrate it to ourselves and our customers. I could not imagine working in a place where there was no expectation, no room to progress, no respect for who I was and what I could contribute.

Where possible, I believe in promotion from within. I like to mentor and guide my staff to be the best they can be, spotting talent and enhancing it. Most people have talent, but it’s hidden behind self-doubt. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to help someone become the best they can be, to help them fulfil their work ambitions and have confidence in the quality of what they produce. People from different backgrounds, with different experiences, coming together with one objective, one aim: that’s what excites me, that’s what makes me tick nowadays.

And, to achieve that, you need to have faith in yourself. In 2010 I was awarded an honorary doctorate in business from the University of Birmingham and, when I received it, I gave a talk to the graduates. I said to them, ‘No matter how much you know, you have to have the personality to deliver it. People need to have confidence in what you’re saying, and you have to have the confidence to convey that.’

I’d go a bit further – to be successful, you also have to have balls. You need that bit of aggression to get the job done and lead well. I’ve always been pretty tough, whether that’s about being able to stand up for myself, or to be straight-talking, and I believe that comes back to always wanting to win: I’ve always pushed the boundaries to get what I want. Ultimately, I credit my nan Nina, who was certainly a woman with balls. She was never scared to stick up for herself or to push me forward. My mother says I’m fearless, and maybe that’s true. I certainly don’t like letting anyone get one over on me, which may sound a bit less heroic but can mean the same thing!

Here’s an example. When I first started work, I was mugged. I was living in Enfield, and as I pulled up in my car one evening a man walked out of my front door. ‘Can I help you?’ I asked.

He said, ‘I’m with the police. You’ve been burgled.’ But when I asked to see his ID, he pushed me to the ground, snatched my handbag and drove off. I drove after him – I didn’t even think about it. I’d just bought myself, for the first time, shoes and a matching handbag, and he had taken the handbag. He could have had anything else but not that!

I ended up cornering him in a cul-de-sac, where I jumped out of my car, ran up to him and tried to get the keys out of his car so that he couldn’t go anywhere. I was fishing around in the back of his car looking for my handbag and I was so angry I hit him over the head with a flask I found on the seat, yelling, ‘Give me the handbag – keep the contents, just give me the handbag!’

Then he pulled out a knife, and I said, ‘Okay, fine, go.’

I called the police, and they didn’t do anything, but I’d made a note of the number plate of the man’s car and drove around Enfield until I found it, abandoned. I think I got the handbag back, but I can’t remember now. What I do remember is that the story made the local paper with a real ’80s headline: ‘Have-a-go Yuppie’.

And I do know I’m at my absolute best when the chips are down. That’s an operational style, and I think you only really know what yours is when you’re under real pressure. It’s how you manage people, what you do, how you cope, what you say, how you go about challenging someone.

That’s why your approach to problems is very important. If you panic in the face of a problem, you’re going to have an unhappy life because life is a series of problems. How happy you are relates to the solutions you find to deal with them. I don’t panic. In fact, I love problems and challenges.

For me, a problem is an opportunity to show off my talent and put everything I know into action; this is an attitude that has underpinned my whole career. I understand that the way to deal with a problem is to break it down, work out what the elements are, then start to fix them. If I think back to the day that I first met David Sullivan, when I sat outside his office and pitched the deal to him to buy airtime on LBC, that situation came out of a problem. I had no clients, I had no money coming in and I had to go and fix it.

Often the solution requires hard work, of course. It is ingrained in my DNA that nothing can substitute for the sheer hours you put in. I saw hard work all around me as I was growing up – if you want to be successful, you have to graft – and that gave me great energy.

I also learned that you shouldn’t be ashamed to try anything. If I had a cleaning job I wouldn’t be ashamed – I’d just make sure I was the best cleaner. When I say to my husband, ‘Darling, I could live in a caravan with you and be happy,’ he says, ‘Yes, but knowing you, if we lived in a caravan, you’d work until we got the best caravan with the best view.’ And I know that’s true. I’ll always work hard to improve my situation: I’m ambitious.

I want to be the best and I’m ambitious, but I’ve never seen that as requiring me to be nasty. I think that comes back again to my inner core: a belief that I can win. I’d pitch myself against anybody at the things I know I’m good at. But I don’t need to be unpleasant to people to be successful because, if I’m tested, I believe I can match others and win.

It’s never about being nasty. I hate bullies – I know how it feels to be on the outside – and there are far better ways to get the best out of people than by bullying them. It’s much better to encourage them: that way you give them confidence. It’s the same with children. If you say to a child, ‘You’re naughty and you’re no good at anything,’ they will be naughty because they think that is what they have to be. If you say to them, ‘You’re great, you’re good, you’re really talented,’ then they feel they’re someone with things to give. Of course, every now and then when you’re running a business, you’ve got to give people the push they need, but you don’t need to be a bitch.

Instead, I aim to instil loyalty in my staff. Loyalty is very important to me. I am a very loyal person, I have very loyal friends, and you can’t put a price on that. It’s the most important ingredient in running a business. The best thing I do is work with people I admire, who are talented and successful, and I know so many things about so many different people that I would never talk about. I have never been a gossip, and that is one of the reasons why I work for Simon Cowell’s company and Sir Philip Green’s board, and have worked with David Sullivan for more than 20 years. It is about loyalty and understanding the position you’re in.

When the chips are down you need to know you have loyal people around you. I sometimes ask myself who, in my organisation, if I rang them up at three o’clock in the morning and said, ‘I need you now, there’s a crisis,’ would embrace the challenge and look forward to being part of the solution, and who wouldn’t answer the phone. Confidence under pressure comes from the belief deep down that you are not on your own. I have had David Sullivan in my life for virtually the whole of my career, and I know, if things get tough, that he will be on my side. Loyalty goes both ways.

And loyalty is created by mutual respect, by promoting people and allowing them to take credit for their work, and standing in front of them when things have not gone right. ‘Protect and serve’ is the motto of the LA police, but it’s also true of good leaders and how they deal with their staff and customers. My staff know that I will deal with them directly. I will promote them and protect them. I will never hide behind any of them, but I’ll always let them hide behind me.

Now, everyone who knows me would say I’m fiercely competitive. I am not competitive about sport, or personal possessions, fame or money, but when it comes to business I’m one of the most competitive people I know. I could never see the point in running around a track to be the fastest. But when my skill set is being assessed, I have to admit that I want to be the best. When I was team leader on The Apprentice for Comic Relief, I had to win. My focus was entirely on that – not on being on TV, not on getting the glory jobs: it was about leading my team to victory. I am competitive about the things I think are really important, the things I stand for.

But I do think you can be too competitive. When I was younger I wanted to win everything, and I would get fiercely passionate about the tiniest challenge. I was very feisty – always fighting my corner. I remember David Sullivan saying to me, ‘Don’t try to win everything. Just win the things that are important.’ It was very good advice. It led to an understanding that not every detail can be controlled at all times – even though I’d like it to be!

My attitude also changed when I became the team leader, as opposed to the team player. You spend all your young life being the team player who wants to be the team leader, and once you get there you realise what it actually means to lead. You can’t be this hugely competitive individual any more, protecting your own glory. You have to bring out the best in everyone else.

Plus, I’m in my forties now and, like everybody, I’ve changed and matured over the years. It’s hard to believe, but I have mellowed – a bit! I have definitely become more tolerant – you learn that when you have children, since as a parent you have to develop patience. When I was younger I had far less tolerance, which meant I ended up doing everything myself.

In fact, delegating terrified the life out of me. I had to have control and I wouldn’t let anyone else in. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust people; I just didn’t think anyone could do it as well as I could. Like lots of young people, I thought I knew everything. It’s only as you get older that you realise it’s far more important to learn than to teach.

So I have learnt how to teach people my values, how to develop a vision and have faith to let my team help me deliver it. And I have been very lucky in that people tend to work for me for a long, long time, so they know my level and what I’m looking for. They enjoy the structure and the freedom, which is an unusual combination but – as I have found – a winning one.