Dad, are we still a zero?

One of my best friends is funny. She's hilarious and is so gracious that everyone who spends time with her immediately becomes 100 times funnier, too. Annie• and I used to meet for lunch every day. Retelling stories about experiences we had while on a business trip to Belize, Honduras and Peru is so funny that years later we are unable to finish some of the stories because we're laughing so hard.

Annie's jokes have such great punchlines that even though years have passed, when one of us repeats a one or two-word punchline we laugh uncontrollably.

She once told a story about how her dad, who held an extremely high profile position, had joined a multi-level (pyramid) marketing company because he couldn't say no to an old buddy. Her dad never sold a single one of the company's products and never recruited anyone else. As the months went by he would receive monthly statements and when he opened them Annie would ask, "Dad, are we still a zero?" Everyone in the family is an overachiever and the "We're a zero!" punchline has become an often-told, cherished family joke. Hi.Lar.ious!

During the last couple of years, I've heard more and more about analytics that are associated with projects I'm familiar with. Sometimes numbers are emphasized, others are omitted, it appears that at times attempts are fashioned to create a picture of desired results. I've never, however, heard anyone proclaim, "Dad, we're a zero!"

I know that everyone wants the team to win; however when it's not easy to learn how well a project has been received, shared ideas about what might be done to attract clicks, likes and shares are diminished.

I'm temporarily editing an in-house, email newsletter. Though analytics have shown that a small percentage of the recipients read the content, I'd never heard the numbers discussed openly.

Over the last seven weeks, modifications have been made to the newsletter. The number of stories was doubled; more writers volunteered to contribute content. Headlines became longer and word count for content increased. The team thought that more was better and that the order of the stories made a difference in how popular each article would be.

The newsletter is published every Thursday and the report containing the analytics arrives the following Monday. When I study the numbers I'm not afraid to say, "Dad, we're a zero!"

The team is learning interesting things. The order of stories doesn't matter. Topics do matter. Stories covering announcements that have already appeared several times in ads, on electronic screens and on posters are often the least-read. Authorship doesn't matter (stories with "contributed report" as the byline are often among the most-read).

One week the story in the number two spot, about an employee attending the State of the Union Address, was the most-read. Several issues later the story in the eighth of nine spots, about a vehicle auction open to employees, received the most clicks. Notices about building projects on campus are often second in popularity only to notices about street closures that may impact employees' travel to and from work.

When entities submit content that is of interest only to a small group, only a few people read it.

The world wants what it wants.

Seven weeks have passed and we're now going back to the original amount of stories (five to seven). While the story order remains ranked with what's most important to the institution first, the writers aren't as concerned about the placement of their article. More staffers are offering suggestions about things we can try that may increase readership.

Don't be afraid to share: "Dad, we're still a zero!"


The next post will be about the intricacies and incredible amount of work to add even one story to the online newsletter.