Writing and speaking are tools for communicating a message. That’s it. Yet so many things – jargon, legalese, academic-speak, overly formal or informal language, too many words, poor grammar and punctuation – get in the way of good communication.

Clear Ink helps financial services, legal, media, health and technology firms, multinationals, government bodies and semi-states sell their products and services to customers using clear English. Our services include:

• Marketing writing  — brochures, letters, reports, newsletters, websites and more
• Editorial content — articles, blogs and clear English guides on any subject
• Editing and  proofreading — all documents: we make your hard work shine
• Writing skills training courses — Business writing in clear English, Think like a journalist  (advanced), Social media marketing on a shoestring (Twitter, LinkedIn, Facebook, GoogleAds and blogs) and more.

To get you started on your clear English journey, here are our top writing tips:

PLAN (figure out who you are, who you’re talking to, what you want to say)
1. Think of the audience. Before you write, put yourself in your customers’ shoes. Who are they? What are they interested in? What do they want/ need from you? If you don’t write for the reader by giving them something they need then you’ve lost them… and all your hard work has been wasted.

2. Specify your purpose. Why are you writing? Be as specific as possible. A detailed objective will help you choose your marketing strategy and writing style.

3. Choose a tone of voice. Formal, academic-style business writing is old-fashioned. Think about how you talk to your customers in person. Replicate this conversational style in your writing. It’s a balancing act but try to keep it professional yet friendly.

WRITE (deliver the message)
4. Treat customers with respect. There’s nothing worse than getting a letter or brochure that’s confusing, talks down to you or scolds you. Always use language that is appropriate to both the reader and the subject matter.

5. Get rid of jargon. Although the words and phrases of your profession and firm are familiar to you, it’s unlikely that most readers know your industry’s jargon. Language should not be a secret society handshake or a code to decipher. Writing is about communicating a message, not trying to impress readers with big words.

6. Look for the story. As humans, we relate to stories. That’s how we all learn and absorb information. Marketing writing is storytelling. Take the reader from the beginning to the end. Don’t jump all over the place. Imagine them asking you “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do? What can your company do for me?”

7. Have a sense of humour. Don’t you like to laugh? Well, so do your readers. Serious is boring. Zzzzzzzz. Sometimes a little unexpected, but appropriate, humour leaves a great impression. It shows you are a confident and relaxed professional – with the human touch.

EDIT (be the reader)
8. Cut, cut, cut. Most of us tend to overwrite. We use 20 words when five will do. Only use what you need to relay your message. If you’re having trouble removing information just put yourself in the reader’s shoes – what do they absolutely need to know?

9. Review your audience and purpose. When you edit, you are looking through a reader’s eyes. Does your document answer the reader’s universal question “What’s in it for me?” How do the words make them feel about you and your business? Will they feel called to action by your words – will they pick up the phone, email or buy your product?

10. Think visually. Marketing documents are not just words on a page. They should be a roadmap of easily accessible information. Do you have strong subheadings, topic sentences and “signposts” for the reader? Is it as visually appealing as it could be? There’s nothing worse than block after block of text to put readers off. Add engaging photographs, tables, charts, graphs where possible. Beautifully written and structured documents are a gift to your potential customers and existing clients so make them sparkle.

Need a hand pulling your marketing plan together? Call Mags on 087 2070495 or email Margaret@clearink.ie (By the way, this is our call to action so please DO it now.)

It’s a multi-billion euro business with properties and offices throughout the world. The company’s services are used by a huge percentage of the global population and many proudly display – and even promote – its logo. This secretive, privately held organisation has been in business for eons. It has a strong brand and a much-loved image.

Yes, the Catholic Church is perhaps the world’s biggest business. It has a corporate logo, brand values, a service offering, customer promises and a skilled workforce.

The Logo. The crucifix is one of the planet’s most instantly recognisable symbols. The brand doesn’t need product placement opportunities since its logo continues to adorn the neck – and bodies – of some of the world’s biggest celebrities. Mel Gibson, Madonna, David Beckham and many others are closely associated with the logo.

The Brand. The Catholic brand is known for goodness, purity and the highest moral and ethical standards. Jesus Christ founded the company with his entrepreneurial colleagues a couple thousand years ago. Their brand messages and marketing materials – the Bible  – have stood the test of time and gained them many loyal followers.

The Promise. Strict terms and conditions apply to the Church’s spiritual services. Catholics who live a good life by adhering to the rules of the religion – don’t kill, lie, steal, commit adultery or want other people’s stuff but do obey your parents, honour God and make your sacraments – are promised an express trip to heaven when they die. There will be no stopover in Purgatory or extended layover in Hell for loyal customers.

On arrival, clients will be greeted at the Pearly Gates by their guide, St. Peter, and granted entrance to a place of eternal happiness. Newcomers will be serenaded by angels of the heavenly choir and surrounded by all that is good and right. They will meet the people who have died before them and, most importantly, they will have an audience with the Almighty.

The Offering. Before customers can enter heaven they must study and pledge loyalty to the religion through the sacraments. In return, they become part of an international community that strives to do unto others as they would do unto you. The club is highly regarded for its work among the poor and for providing education in many needy nations. Members pay to assist with these good works and to help with spiritual and material needs within their own local communities.

The Reality. Like many large companies that have fallen into disrepute, the brand’s promises are very different from the customers’ experience. As we learned from the Ryan report, also known as the Report of the Commission to Inquire into Child Abuse, the business has been badly broken for a long time. The brand has betrayed its customers and shareholders.

The Catholic Church has been a market leader, and even an innovator, when it comes to the wide-scale abuse of children for business purposes.Our church developed and perfected many modern business and political techniques.

Children’s sweatshops. Children were captive workers who paid for the orders’ holiday homes and lavish meals with blood, sweat and tears plus a good lashing of rape, degradation and dehumanisation.

Creative accounting. Funds given by the government to feed, clothe and house orphans and industrial school detainees were not entirely used for this purpose, a percentage was funnelled into many of the religious orders’ more mainstream schools.

Innovative imprisonment. Children were held against their will on questionable charges such as “wandering”. Thankfully they were not asked to wear orange jumpsuits, just rags.

Generational mind control. Many of our industrial schools, orphanages and mother and baby homes were run under brutal totalitarian regimes. Romania’s orphanages, created by the notorious Nicolae Ceausescu, bear a striking resemblance to the Irish system. Pierre Poupard, the head of Unicef in Romania, told the BBC that the orphans were a “lost generation” – closeted away from society, often malnourished and subjected to physical and even sexual abuse.

Would Jesus Christ be happy to wear the church’s logo now?

The shareholders of this failed corporation – its parishioners – should call an annual general meeting and demand that the executives explain themselves and atone for their actions in words, deeds and cash.

Margaret E. Ward is a journalist and managing director Clear Ink.

Western society has hang-ups about ageing, and older people are often invisible or ignored.

Fianna Fáil TD Mary O’Rourke, one of the more senior members in the Dáil, was being asked for her advice to older people running for politics last Monday.

Thankfully, O’Rourke did not have a “senior moment”, the American expression for forgetfulness or a momentary blanking of the mind, as she replied. The political veteran – whose BER energy rating, if she were a house, would be just fine – replied that her genetic make-up meant she was not a delicate person and had lots of energy.

Obviously, the RTÉ reporter did not ask the question with any malice, but the throwaway comment reflects Irish society’s casually expressed, but deeply ingrained, views of the aged. We assume that anyone over 50 is slowing down, putting on a robe and slippers, obsessing about health problems, the weather, Daniel O’Donnell and preparing to die.

These ideas translate directly into the workplace and society. The third-highest number of complaints to the Equality Tribunal last year – 82, up from 41 in 2007 – involved age discrimination. This bias may range from something as subtle as refusing an employee’s training course request because they might not be around much longer to outright abuse due to the person’s age.

Some of Ireland’s best thinkers – business leaders, entrepreneurs and politicians – are over 55. Can you imagine Dermot Desmond, Martin Naughton, Margaret Heffernan, Feargal Quinn or Jackie Healy-Rae willingly packing it in because they’d reached a certain birthday?

Western society has hang-ups about ageing, and older people are often invisible or ignored. How often do you see the over-55s represented in the media, advertising or entertainment industries?

By contrast, Asian society is renowned for its reverence for older people. RTÉ’s Margaret Ward, who has been stationed in China for a few years, told me older people there are quite visible and active in society, since they retire quite early. “You see them in parks a lot, doing tai chi, playing cards and mahjong, doing ballroom dancing, group sing-songs and using public gym equipment.”

So, where do our beliefs come from? We’ve probably been overly influenced by advertising research. Marketing executives believe older people are more set in their ways so they are less likely to spend money, change brands or try something new. The golden demographic – 18- to 34-year-olds – are lusted after for their spendthrift ways.

As the recession deepens, however, marketers are changing their views. The New York Times reported last month that there is an increasing interest in marketing goods and services to consumers aged 50 and older. “Among those aiming more at the older demographic are giants like Chrysler, Kraft Foods, L’Oréal, Procter Gamble and [retailer] Target,” the paper said.

It’s not altruistic; they’re just following the money. Baby boomers have entered their later years and they’re not dropping like flies. Life expectancy in Ireland is increasing. According to the Central Statistics Office, men’s life expectancy is 76.8 years (up 1.7 years) and women’s life expectancy is 81.6 years (up 1.3 years) in the most recent data.

There are probably more “active retired” individuals than the widely characterised sick, doddery pensioners waiting for the Grim Reaper. Although Ireland has one of the EU’s younger populations, with just 11.5 per cent of us over 65, this is set to rise to 26 per cent by 2011.

Seniors are having their moment. During the medical card protests last autumn, one campaigner said: “They underestimated the generation that marched for civil rights in the 1960s, marched for tax reform in the 1980s and march in the noughties for the right to a decent health service.”

Eighty per cent of all older people voted in the last election, and a new political party has been formed. John Wolfe (71) launched the Seniors’ Solidarity Party this week to lobby on issues of concern for the over-50s and their families.

We’re all 21 in our heads, and most people over 55 do not feel old. New website EveryMonday.ie, which I edit, found that 80 per cent of 500 people over the age of 55 who were surveyed believed 80 years of age, not 65, was old. So, 80 is the new old and there’s a lot of living to be done in our last 30 years.

It’s time we all question our attitudes and ask: what role do older people play in our society, in our businesses and in our personal lives?

Margaret E Ward is a journalist, blogger and managing director of Clear Ink

The reason you should take note is that the number of advertisements are dwindling. When this happens, it has the potential to weaken our democracy and to further diminish our standing in the international business community. This is not as far-fetched as it might sound.

Media outlets traditionally obtain the bulk of their income from advertising. The retail price, subscription or licence fee only goes a small way to covering expenses. When a sharp decline in advertising occurs, as it has over the past couple of years, media companies need to cut costs and, ultimately, staffing levels.

Many Irish newspapers and radio stations have announced voluntary redundancies for journalists and, in the last week, a dozen or so staff members from TV3 were laid off. Big deal, right? Lots of people are losing their jobs.In a healthy democracy, journalists should act as a check and balance on the legislative, executive and judiciary branches of government. In addition to reporting the events of the day, they have a duty to investigate potential wrongdoing by those in power – in business, government and society.

Good investigative journalists are moral watchdogs with a sensitive nose for corruption, graft, cronyism, abuse of influence and power and much more.

Even so, investigations take time and lots of money. Traditionally, newspapers broke many of the big stories and radio and TV stations followed up on them. Recently – as newspapers’ advertising revenue dried up – the appetite for expensive investigative series (and potential legal actions) has diminished.

Over the past few years, television programmes like Prime Time and special RTÉ news reports by Charlie Bird and George Lee have filled some of the void. These TV investigations are no longer a certainty now that the editorial independence of the national broadcaster has been called in to question.

RTÉ’s strange apology for running a news item on the satirical painting of King Brian (sorry, the Taoiseach) in the National Gallery raises a very big issue. If RTÉ caved in on a simple thing like a painting then what other news items, or investigations, will they axe?

Print, broadcast and online media face several other problems when trying to meet their watchdog brief. Redundancies and layoffs mean many of their senior staff will leave – taking their long memories and years of experience with them.

Journalism is now a freelance world. Staff journalists are the exception rather than the rule at many newspapers and radio stations. This is the biggest threat of all to an independent, effective media. The rise in freelance journalism directly impacts on investigative reports. The Huffington Post, America’s famous blog turned internet newspaper, is so concerned about it that it launched an investigative report fund on Monday. The €1.75 million initiative, designed to fund freelance and staff journalists’ investigative reports, is asking for ideas and CVs.

Founder Arianna Huffington said layoffs at newspapers were hurting investigative journalism at a time the nation’s institutions need to be watched closely.

The same applies in Ireland. Print freelancers can only make a living if they crank out a high volume of well written articles. The rate for freelance work has not improved much in the last 10 years, so it’s really a numbers game. If you were a freelance journalist, would you take the risk of investigating and reporting a scandal?

Staff positions for talented freelance journalists are as rare as hen’s teeth so freelancers would be fools not to ask themselves a few questions: will I be paid for all the time I spend on this investigation? What happens if the scandal leads to a lawsuit in which I am named? Will this potential outcome impact on my ability to earn a living as a journalist?

Freelancers have less protection from legal action, or loss of income, than staffers if they publish a story that someone finds unfavourable.

Ireland’s international reputation is in tatters thanks to strange goings on in business, government and regulatory circles. Now, more than ever, we need a strong investigative media committed to shining a light in all those dark places. Who dares to fund it?

Ireland needs a drastic shift in cultural attitudes – away from entitlement and towards personal responsibility. The arrogant aristocracy has made taxpayers as cheap as chips.

This article was originally published in The Irish Times, Business this week, Platform column on:
March 6, 2009

The cost of “keeping up with the Fitzpatricks”

Two years ago, I wrote that the nation was like a kid who had just received pocket money for the first time: “Imagine four million children with sweaty coins in their hands waiting for the newsagents to open and you’ll get the picture.”

Spending was a thrill but now, like a youngster who has blown it all on sweets, the public and private sector are dealing with the tummy ache and asking: “Why did I do it? I should have known better!”

The easy-credit culture benefited not only those creating wealth in the private sector – entrepreneurs, small-business owners, property developers and multinationals – but the public sector as well. The number of people employed in Government swelled and those at the top, our elected Government representatives, felt they also needed to be richly rewarded for serving the people.

Arrogant aristocracy

Government generosity to itself – with our money – has created an arrogant aristocracy. Some long-serving TDs have probably forgotten how to drive, use public transport, carry cash or arrange meetings. No wonder the current Government reeks of a “let them eat cake” sense of entitlement. We have allowed it.

They live very different lives from the rest of us. We already know that our Taoiseach and many top ministers receive salaries that are higher – and completely disproportionate when judged on population size – than most of their European and American counterparts. Pensions and perks, including government cars and mileage allowances for private cars, are also overly generous. It’s a nice number in hard times.

No matter what happens, these senior civil servants will be largely unaffected by the recession. Even if they lose their seats, they’ll keep their full pensions – unlike some of the workers at Waterford Crystal.

Chances are, our elected officials’ children will not be forced to emigrate in as large numbers as their contemporaries. In fact, junior Minister for Finance Martin Mansergh told BBC television (and me) last week that his daughter was going to Australia for the experience. She was not being forced to emigrate. Lucky woman!

Fianna Fáil’s attitude and communications strategy of “radio silence” have done little to help the populace understand the seriousness of the issues we face – or to prepare for the hard cuts that are to come. We are fighting for our economic survival and dismissing media commentators who ask hard questions for the benefit of the public as “populists” does not engender confidence. After all, populists are the opposite of elitists.

Taxpayers – cheap as chips

Thanks to our light-touch regulation, the spending habits of some of our native financiers were more elaborate than the Government’s.

We still don’t know why Seán Quinn quietly bought up a 25 per cent contract for difference (CFD) or placed a high-risk bet on the direction of the share price in Anglo Irish Bank. Was he in a power play for control of Anglo from Seán Fitzpatrick & Co, was he trying to help the bank or was he just a rich man gambling big money to become even wealthier? Either way, it now seems that the chips Quinn and Fitzpatrick were playing with had “taxpayer” written on them. We’re all footing the bill for their miscalculations.

Over the years, I have talked about “keeping up with the Fitzpatricks” when discussing reckless spending – this has now acquired a strange new meaning.

Cultural shift

Politicians and bankers are not the only ones infected with a sense of entitlement. Even ordinary people feel they are owed something. We all know that child benefit and medical cards for the over-70s should be means tested. But how many of us refuse the payment on the basis that, although it’s nice to get when the kids are small, we don’t really need the money?

Ireland needs a drastic shift in cultural attitudes – away from entitlement and towards responsibility. The only thing citizens are owed is a Government that leads well, helps the most vulnerable in society and uses tax revenues efficiently. Sadly, we can’t say that any of those things have been achieved by the current administration.

The Government is spending our money and we have a responsibility to ensure they use it transparently and wisely. We should introduce a “Government-waste whistleblowers” campaign or organisation. Anyone who sees waste by a Government department or body – and we already know there is lots of it – can report it without fear of repercussions. It’s time to target the wasters, wherever they are, and usher in an era of personal responsibility.

True leaders know they must make real changes within themselves, and their organisations, before they can ask others to sacrifice.

Margaret E. Ward is a journalist, small-business owner and blogger www.margaretward.ie

Year 2010: Tumbleweed blows through the empty streets of the International Financial Services Centre. The once proud little place in the wild west of Europe is almost abandoned. A few nervous survivors squint through cracked glass at the young, fair-haired woman outside. She is wearing sandals and walking carefully through the bank statements and construction dust swirling around her.

“Hello. Is anyone there?” the tanned blonde shouts at the large buildings. A shrouded, emaciated figure scurries down the steps, grabs her hand and pulls her roughly inside.

“Shhh. You don’t want them to hear you,” says the old woman.

The girl is visibly shaken. “What happened here? Who are you? Who are they?”

“I am Cathleen and this is a damned place. You shouldn’t be here. Go now – while you can.”

“Wait. I’m so confused. My name is Sorcha. I used to work here, but I left for Australia in late 2008. That was only two years ago!”

Cathleen: “Much has changed. A great gang of bandits swept through the land. We were all robbed blind – in broad daylight – and the populace is very frightened and incredibly broke.”

Sorcha: “What about the sheriff and the governor? Why aren’t they doing anything about the outlaws?”

Cathleen: “The sheriff disappeared when things got tough and the governor …”

The old woman bares her teeth in a growl.

Sorcha: “Omigosh. Why did you make that horrible face?”

Cathleen: “He’s locked away in a big building in the city centre. They say he’s very unpredictable. One minute he’s singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way and the next he’s mumbling ‘what’ll we do, what’ll we do?’ in a small, trembling voice.

Sorcha: “There must be more of you than there are of them. Why don’t you all get together and do something about it?”

Cathleen: “Well, laws don’t apply to the white collar gang or the brown envelope brigade like they do for us citizens. Anytime we try to have a voice – on equality, democracy, consumer rights and government accountability – we are silenced. Besides, there’s no fight in us now. Personally, I have nothing left.” She stretches her arms wistfully around the room.

Sorcha: “Don’t tell me you live here? It’s an old bank branch, not an apartment!”

Cathleen: “The wealth was taken from me. My four beautiful overseas properties had to be put up for auction. My pension is gone.”

Sorcha: “Someone must be able to help. Where is everyone?”

She moves towards the door.

Cathleen: “Be careful; there is a hard wind outside.”

She looks into the distance, catching a memory. “The people needed a leader, but no one came.”

Sorcha: “There is always hope. America maybe?”

Cathleen: “No. They have problems of their own. Perhaps? Hmm. There was a legend told in 2009 about a mysterious stranger who would ride in from the Border to save the day.”

Sorcha: “Tell me more. Can I phone or e-mail this person?”

Cathleen: “Impossible. You’ll never get through. In desperation, we tried his favourite form of communication last week – a full-page newspaper ad. Here. We’re still waiting for a sign.”

Sorcha opens the folded page and reads it out loud “Wanted: Maverick gunslinger to eradicate citizens’ enemies.”

Cathleen: “They say he’s a businessman, a frontiersman and a cattle rancher. He wears the striped shirts and heeled boots that are the marks of his clan. Most Dublin people won’t even cross over into that cowboy’s county – Westmeath – for fear of getting the chop.”

Sorcha: “He sounds frightening.”

Cathleen: “Maybe so, but the myth says he’s also very efficient at eradicating waste and wasters. He makes quick, tough financial decisions and carries them through.”

Sorcha: “You make him sound like Superman. No one can fix everything overnight.

“Shouldn’t you all be taking responsibility for what the Government is doing, or not doing, with your money? You still pay taxes. It is your money after all.”

Cathleen: “We know nothing. We see nothing. We point fingers. We do nothing. We will be remembered for nothing. We are waiting . . . for something.”

Sorcha: “I’ll go then. May I have your shroud? It is cold out. I’ll go back to Oz while you wait for a gunslinger, any gunslinger, to answer the call.”

Sorcha walks out into the grey evening, her stooped shoulders giving her the walk of a defeated old woman.

Margaret E Ward is a journalist and managing director of Clear Ink

The first series of Noughties Ireland in 2007 delivered scheming property developers and government officials happy to look the other way. Series two featured a shamed taoiseach, several dodgy solicitors, the Fás scandal and questionable banking practices. This year’s series sees paedophile priests and bishops who damn children to a lifelong personal hell.

Fraud is also likely to make an appearance this year. Paddy Power is taking bets on which Irish sector will be charged with the biggest fraud in 2009. The odds favour banking, property and the legal sector, with telecoms and State/semi-State bodies next in line.

The fallout from this reality show is slowly creeping into hardworking people’s lives. It will take their pensions, life savings and hope for a dignified future. The shameful behaviour of others will bring the hardship of the dole and house repossession on ordinary people. These are the lives broken by our collective greed. Shame on us all.

The 10-year gluttonfest that found nearly every face deep in the swill trough is over. Now we’re left with dirt on our faces – and souls – and a big mess to clean up.

Internationally, our credibility is ruined. Last Sunday, the New York Times ran a front-page story, “The Irish Economy’s Rise was Steep, and the Fall was Fast”. The article is a damning indictment of our crude behaviour in business and towards one another over the past decade.

Transparency International, the independent global anti-corruption organisation, believes the damage done by the Government, regulators and the banks to Ireland’s reputation for fair play will be long lasting.

John Devitt, spokesman for the organisation, says if we want to avoid being branded the “Wild West of European finance”, things have to change. “The system of political donations and gifts to politicians needs to be tightened, appointments to State bodies need to be scrutinised by the Oireachtas, whistleblowers need to be protected in the private sector and Freedom of Information fees need to be lowered so that journalists can better expose the relationships between business and government.”

In 2004, before the recent scandals, a World Economic Forum (WEF) survey found that Ireland did a lot worse on its legal corruption index than some developing countries, including Ghana and Malaysia.

“The WEF survey and business scandals highlight a major weakness in our regulatory system. We need to see existing regulation enforced. The financial regulator and the gardaí have clearly not been doing their jobs,” says Devitt.

Things must change. Community organisers such as the late Tony Gregory, Barack Obama and the inspirational Fr Michael Mernagh have already felt the new tide’s strong pull.

People are fed up and angry. They are starting to organise a new way of doing things. Fr Mernagh walked from Cobh to Dublin to atone for 20 years of listening to rumours and stories of child rape and sexual abuse and doing nothing about it. He is taking a stand.

Young politicians are listening too. Dublin man Ross O’Mullane believes the public should decide the way things are run. He is running independently for Dáil Éireann in the Dublin South byelection.

His website, www.unitedminds.ie, proposes a new system of representation in government where individuals use an online forum to debate all issues relating to their lives. If elected, Mullane promises to use opinions on the website to ensure the public has a much louder voice on key issues.

Businesspeople need to take a stand too. It’s time to get a conscience and get organised. We can spend the recession backstabbing, lying and stealing clients, or we can work together to ensure Ireland is the best place in the world to do business.

Demand accountability. Demand regulations that apply to all. Demand transparency in government. Demand a better way of doing business and demand it of yourself too.

Margaret E Ward is a journalist and managing director of Clear Ink

On November 7th, 1878, the body of Lisburn man Alexander Turney Stewart was stolen from its grave at St Mark’s Church in the Bowery area of lower Manhattan. The kidnappers demanded a substantial ransom.

“Merchant Prince” Stewart was born outside Belfast, in 1803, to a farmer and his wife. He emigrated to New York and, aged 20, he opened his first dry-goods shop selling Belfast linens and laces. The business thrived, thanks to Stewart’s merchandising genius and a gift for listening to customers. By the time of his death in 1876, AT Stewart Co was the world’s most successful retailer. Stewart had given his empire not one, but two, palaces – the architectural marvels known as the Marble Palace and the Iron Palace department stores. He also created a village in Long Island, known as Garden City, for his workers and built them a railroad so they arrived to work on time.

Stewart was constantly innovating based on customers’ needs. He developed a mail-order business, the first “department” store and profit-sharing for employees.

Success had its rewards. When he died, he was one of the richest men in the world, worth an estimated $40 million, ranking just below members of the well-established Astor and Vanderbilt families. Not bad for a farmer’s son from Lisburn.

Stewart built his retail dry-goods empire on a few simple principles: know your customer, anticipate their needs, innovate and always pay cash.

In current market conditions – with businesses and banks playing a game of hot potato with their cash and crying about customers’ unwillingness to spend – companies would do well to follow Stewart’s example (without the body for ransom episode, of course).

A natural salesman, Stewart realised that “you will deal with ignorant, opinionated and innocent people. You will often have an opportunity to cheat them. If they could, they would cheat you, or force you to sell at less than cost. You must be wise, but not too wise. You must never actually cheat the customer, even if you can . . . You must make her happy and satisfied, so she will come back.”

Stewart believed that the key to establishing a great business was to make friends with customers and encourage their return, according to Elbert Hubbard, author of AT Stewart: Little Journeys to the Homes of Forgotten Business Men.

Very few Irish businesses bothered with customer service during the boom years. There was no need. Ten more customers lined up behind the last one. Complaints were ignored, even laughed at. Every customer was a profit-centre, not a human being.

Now it’s time to change the record. Customer service is not a fashion accessory; it is a necessity. The only businesses that will survive the downturn are those that cherish their customers.

Businesses that can forecast customers’ needs will do well. Hubbard said of Stewart: “When he foresaw a storm ahead, there would be a silent purchase of all of certain goods in the market, which would be sure to rise in a certain contingency . . . he was the first to foresee a falling market and to put his goods before the public with such swiftness and address that he cleared his shelves with the least loss.”

Stewart only dealt in greenbacks. “The house of AT Stewart Co has always bought for cash – and one more and striking peculiarity . . . he has never speculated one penny’s worth outside of his business nor, strictly speaking, in it. When he has bought largely, it was to supply his customers with a greatly needed article – and when he reduced prices, it was not to injure others, but a ready submission to the inevitable in trade. His advantage consisted in knowing early what was inevitable,” Hubbard wrote in 1909.

But back to the stolen body. Eventually it was returned and buried in a booby-trapped crypt in Garden City. No one is allowed access to it. I like to think the coffin plate reads: “Have a nice day.”

This article first appeared in the Irish Times

BREAKING NEWS: Homer Simpson has been operating the controls of the international financial system for the last several years. Mr Simpson, normally the animated nuclear safety inspector at the Springfield Nuclear Plant, is known to spend much of his time eating doughnuts, spilling coffee on the control panels and falling asleep.

Financial watchdogs from America to Europe have been enticed by, and trained in, his devil-may-care management techniques at the D’Oh School of Economics. Simpson’s influence in economic circles is most obvious when regulators are listening to investment executives valuing their products.

When the small talk turns technical, a speech bubble appears above the financial speaker’s head saying: “Blah, blah, subprime, blah, blah, repackaged, blah, blah, bad debt, blah, by another name”.

Soon after, the bubble dissolves and the D’Oh regulators nod, stamp “Approved Investment” on the paperwork and go back to sleep at the controls.

Only in Homer’s cartoon world could it be possible for investment professionals to take bits of this and that – lint from Homer’s belly button, drool from Moe’s face and dandruff from Principal Skinner – call it some weird name and sell it for a tidy profit. Right?

This “repackaging of rubbish for sale to the suckers” is what happened in the non-animated world over the last few years and it’s no laughing matter.

Investment companies needed to satisfy an increasingly hungry market so they invented ever more complex financial products. Although the new investments probably looked viable in theory, it’s unlikely that even their inventors were certain of their daily value. (Would you know the value of a Porsche constructed using parts from an old Lada, a Ford Pinto and a Yugo?)

No one really understood how these derivatives were valued but they were too afraid to ask. Whether it was a conscious decision or not, these complicated products were certainly a good bet on human nature: nobody wants to be the guy in the room who says: “what does that mean?” or “I don’t understand”.

The world’s most famous investor, Warren Buffett of Berkshire Hathaway, wasn’t taken in by the slick talk. He’s a simple guy and only invests in what he understands. He said: “I don’t see any way that pooling a bunch of mortgages, changing the ownership, is going to change the viability of the mortgage instrument itself – whether people can make the payments or not.”

Jargon and techno-speak have the power to weaken our common sense filters and, in this financial meltdown, they contributed to uninformed – even dangerous – decisions by professional investors.

Ordinary people like us are the ones who will pay the price for this toxic thinking even though we can’t fully comprehend it yet.

No one seems able to explain what happened, why it happened and where we are going next, so we’re entering a nuclear winter of terminology. Simpsons-like phrases used by news organisations include: toxic debt, financial Armageddon and several other atomised terms.

Earlier this week, former Bank of England policy maker Willem Buiter even said that British prime minister Gordon Brown needs to approve a “toxic asset dump” to rescue the British banking system. “There should be a toxic asset dump in which public money is used to buy the toxic assets of the banks, but not at prices that imply a significant no-strings-attached transfer of capital to banks,” Buiter said.

Basically, the British government should follow the US model and give taxpayers’ money to the banks in exchange for bad debt? That’s a bit like a teenager asking mum and dad to take responsibility for their credit card bills when the debt collectors call.

Now is not the time for procrastination or inaction by investors. Franklin Delano Roosevelt was president during the Great Depression. In 1932 he said: “The country demands bold, persistent experimentation. It is common sense to take a method and try it. If it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something.” Investors who keep their nerve will see the silver lining. For years, Berkshire Hathaway stayed out of the market. In 2007 it started to spend. This mess is an opportunity for savvy investors to stop talking rubbish and start buying what they understand.

Margaret E. Ward is a journalist and director of Clear Ink, the Clear English Specialists. Email: hello@clearink.ie

The playthings that remained were the classics: wooden train sets, teddy bears, ancient handpainted dolls, the beloved Radio Flyer red wagon, Monopoly, chess and checkers, bouncy balls, blocks and card games. Even the toy soldier skittles – who had been camping in the radiator for the past year – were retrieved and put in a place of honour on the shelf.

Our cleaning frenzy was more than a clearout and a reorganisation of the room. According to the Financial Times recently, it is a trend. Faced with gloomy economic news, adults are yearning for their favourite childhood toys. A small story, “Traditional toys return as shoppers feel the squeeze”, reported on an interesting trend emerging for the upcoming “credit crunch Christmas”.

Retailers believe parents will embrace toys that are built to last. They are stocking up on spinning tops, wooden blocks, traditional teddy bears and Snoopy. Argos also reported that sales of Lego doubled year on year.

In Ireland, the trend is similar: pigsback.com is even running an eighth anniversary competition where you can win one of several retro toys: Mr Potato Head, the Rubik’s Cube, Operation, Etch-a-Sketch, Mr Frosty, Kitt from Knight Rider or a Slinky.

There are economic lessons to be learned from the contents of a nation’s toy box. In countries where there is little hope, children’s toys are minor miracles.

A few years back, in a remote village in the Democratic Republic of Congo, I bumped into a boy whose father had made him a small transport truck out of balsa wood. This is a place where people have little more than leaves and starchy mush to eat. Protein malnutrition is rife and clothes are dirty rags.

The truck was a work of art and I instantly wanted to bring it back to my children. It was obviously built with great skill, care and attention to detail.

My guide, an experienced humanitarian worker from Northern Ireland who spent his early years growing up on the banks of the Congo river, urged me not to ask the boy to sell it. Although puzzled, we smiled, admired the toy and moved on.

Later, when I asked him why, he said toys like these were one of the few pleasures children had in Congo. Of course the boy would have sold it to me and the money would have helped his family, but he’d probably never get another toy like it again.

A few days later, I saw another boy who had a fantastic ball made from hundreds of tightly bound leaves. Even in a place with a doubtful future, there was innovation.

Our instinct in an economic downturn is to seek comfort and return to what we know – the teddy bear, the reliable overcoat, mum’s stuffing. This trend is predictable but it’s also dangerous. It feels good but it won’t change anything. Innovation is the only way back to the days of milk and honey.

Joseph Schumpeter, an Austrian economist coming back into vogue, also believed that the only way out of a recession was innovation. He called capitalism’s cycle of innovation-recession- innovation “creative destruction”.

According to a well-respected professor of economics at the University of California, Berkeley, J Bradford DeLong, Schumpeter’s economics are appealing because “he tried to set long-term economic growth – entrepreneurship and enterprise – at the top of the discipline’s agenda”.
DeLong says: “Entrepreneurs innovate new ways of manipulating nature and new ways of assembling and co-ordinating people. It is important to stress that a Schumpeterian entrepreneur is not an inventor, but an innovator. The innovator shows that a product, a process or a mode of organisation can be efficient and profitable, and that elevates the entire economy.

“But it also destroys those organisations and people who suddenly find their technologies and routines outmoded and unprofitable. There is, Schumpeter was certain, no way of avoiding this: capitalism cannot progress without creating short-term losers alongside short- and long-term winners.”

The biggest box in our playroom is bursting with Lego. Maybe it’s time to pull it out and create something entirely new.

Margaret E. Ward is a journalist and director of Clear Ink, the Clear English Specialists. Email: hello@clearink.ie