Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Piyush Pandey changed the face of Indian advertising'

 

'Piyush Pandey not only impacted Ogilvy but also changed the face of Indian advertising'

Guest column: Chintamani Rao, Strategic Marketing and Media Consultant remembers a young Piyush Pandey and his subsequent rise to creative superstardom

e4mby Chintamani Rao
Published: Dec 27, 2023 8:45 AM  | 9 min read
piyush pandey chintamani rao
  • e4m Twitter

It was 1986. Piyush Pandey was an Account Supervisor working with me on, among others, Hindustan Lever.

We had a brief on Sunlight Detergent Powder, on which our response was overdue. Young Piyush, meanwhile, was itching. He came to me one morning with a script he had written. Not only was it spot on, but, back in the day when advertising was written in English by Stephanians (Piyush is one, too) and Xavierites and their ilk, and translated into Indian languages by freelancers, he had written it in – lo! and behold – Hindi.

We were out of time and we had a solution in hand, so, like a good account man, even at the risk of annoying our beloved Creative chief Suresh Mullick, I told him to go ahead. He developed that script and two others, and off we went to present them.

Sanjay Khosla (later a big cheese at Kraft) was the client. He liked the scripts and approved them, but was curious. Never before had the agency presented work in anything but English. He asked who the writer was. Naively unprepared for the question, we shuffled our feet and mumbled something about this new guy we had.
I went to Suresh and confessed. Far from being upset, he guided Piyush to refine the scripts, supported him, and gave him full Creative responsibility to make the three films for Sunlight. (That was Suresh!)

And that, boys and girls, was how Piyush Pandey wrote and made his first ads, as an Account Supervisor.

It naturally followed that he was called on now and then for his input on one brief or another. He went on to work on Fevicol (work much lauded and much awarded over the years), Luna mopeds, and, of course, Sunlight. His big breakthrough came in 1988, when he wrote the unforgettable lyrics for Mile Sur, the second of Suresh Mullick’s three Independence Day films.

In time, his account management role was just Piyush’s day job; creating film scripts was his night job, and what kept him charged. In 1990 Ashish Mitra, as head of the Bombay office (I had transferred to Bangalore) initiated the move to a transition. Ashish’s tenure in Ogilvy was brief and unhappy, but it was the beginning of what changed the face of Indian advertising.

The triumvirate who ran Ogilvy were not enthused. Writing a few film scripts was one thing: a full-time Creative job was quite another.

Suresh great worry was that Piyush would never make it to Creative Director. He wrote terrific films but had never written a print ad, the true expression of the copywriter’s craft. Nor could Suresh see him making a formal Creative presentation. Consequently, he would be left languishing as a middle-level writer of Hindi copy. And where would he start? Obviously not as a junior copywriter, but, on the other hand, he did not yet have the credentials to lead a team.

Suresh’s concerns were a reflection of the times, not of his opinion of Piyush. He loved Piyush and was proud of him, and it was his guidance, encouragement and support that had made the journey thus far possible. But TV was still a relatively new medium. Historically, campaigns were first developed in print, and presentations led with print ads, followed by TV and other media, in English. So what was the future for a writer who was strong in TV but didn’t write print, and wrote in Hindi but not in English?
Yet, nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come, as Victor Hugo said. This was such an idea, and a beginning was made. Piyush was appointed Indian Language Copy Chief so he could render (‘transcreate’ was the word those days) English originals into Hindi, and guide and oversee the freelance translators who did the other languages. He was not expected to write much original advertising, except for a few brands like Sunlight, Luna, and Fevicol.

Given time and the space, Piyush showed what he was capable of. In a couple of years he was appointed Creative Director for Bombay. At the end of 1993 came a change of guard. Mani Ayer retired, after a long, illustrious, and eventful tenure as Managing Director, and Ranjan Kapur returned from Singapore to succeed him.

Ranjan had the advantage of being an insider-outsider. He had moved out into the Ogilvy network and worked across borders in an international role, yet had remained a close observer of the Indian company. He had his own vision and ambition for Ogilvy India, and a creative renaissance was integral to that. He saw the potential Piyush represented in helping to transform the agency and drive it. He soon appointed Piyush National Creative Director, and backed him all the way.


This was a whole new way of working and, expectedly, was not popular. In an agency historically driven by Account Management, the Creative rank-and-file acquired a voice and came out of the backroom. Ranjan stuck to his guns in the face of opposition from almost the entire agency. In good time he was proved right. As the profile of the work changed and created a buzz in the industry, and clients were delighted, there was a new excitement in the air. And the rest is, as they say, history.

Piyush has not only impacted Ogilvy, he has, inarguably, driven a change in the face of Indian advertising. What is it about him? Prodigious talent, of course, but that can’t be all.


Much has been said about his small-town sensibilities, coming as he does from Jaipur. There may be something in that, but it is, frankly, patronising. After school at St Xavier’s in Jaipur he went to St Stephen’s College in Delhi for five years, earning an MA in History and playing cricket; and went to work first at a boxwallah tea company in Calcutta and then at Ogilvy in Bombay. So the image of the wide-eyed small-town boy making it in the big city is not quite it.

Cut to the mid-90s. I was back in Bombay. He was National Creative Director, and had been making waves for some years. We were having a beer on the verandah of the Bombay Gymkhana when the CEO of another large advertising agency stopped by. “We’ve been studying your work, and we’ve understood what you do,” he said to Piyush. “It’s the language: the way you use a mix of English and Hindi.” (The word Hinglish was not yet in our lexicon.)


“What a relief,” said Piyush after he left. “I was afraid they’d really understood.”


Our CEO friend had the glimmer of something there, actually. It wasn’t just the language Piyush wrote in, though, it was the language he thought in, and encouraged thinking in, and his ability to make the mental connection. It is only when you think in a language that you get the idiom – verbal, visual, and cultural.

“I said it in Hebrew — I said it in Dutch —
I said it in German and Greek;
But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)
That English is what you speak.”

 Lewis Caroll, The Hunting of the Snark

Replace English there with Hindi, Tamil, Bengali, or any other Indian language, and that typified Indian advertising. The few exceptions were just that, exceptions. And at the fringe there was Hinglish and its equivalents, like, “Yehi hai right choice, baby!” When we went back home from work we spoke, watched movies, and listened to music in our own languages, but the language at work was English, and so was the advertising we created. That is what changed. And it was not only in the copy: Hindi or Tamil was increasinsgly heard in agency meetings and discussions, especially those on creative work.

In 1995-96, Neil French, then Regional Creative Director at Ogilvy, visited Bombay and, as is the normal practice, reviewed the agency’s creative work. He confessed that much of it passed him by. But he knew from the clients he had met, and the awards adorning the offices, that it worked powerfully for clients as well as the agency, and decided to leave well enough alone.

The language, and the idiom, was in the expression. Behind that was the quintessential Ogilvy copywriter. Look at Piyush’s own best work, the work that built his career, and you will find two things: a benefit rooted in the product – the category high ground, in David Ogilvy’s terms; and a unique, memorable expression of it. That’s it. An instinctive strategist, as the best Creative people are, he never went logically through the process, but that is what his innate discipline and flair led him to. David Ogilvy would have been proud.

Back when we worked together, Piyush didn’t just walk in with an idea or a script, he came bouncing in, eager to share. He was enthusiastic, yet he was open, never wedded to an idea or to a piece of work: there was more where that had come from. If you went back to where he had started, which you frequently did, that was not because he had insisted that was it.

In the last 30-odd years Piyush has nurtured many a talent, nationally and internationally, as a professional leader must, and many of those he encouraged and gave opportunities to have gone on to become leaders in their own right. Yet he remains special, standing apart from those who came before him as well as those who have come after.

Go well, my friend. Cheers!

____________________

First published in www.exchange4media.com, 27 Dec 2023

Thursday, December 12, 2019

Tara Sinha saw the future of Advertising

 

Tara Sinha saw the future of advertising: Chintamani Rao

Guest Column: Chintamani Rao, renowned Strategic Marketing and Media Consultant, recounts Tara Sinha's contributions to the field of advertising

e4mby Chintamani Rao
Published: Dec 12, 2019 4:39 PM  | 3 min read
Tara Sinha
  • e4m Twitter
audiogenaudiofile

The first time I heard her name was 45 years ago. From then to now I have only heard her spoken of in awe and with respect.

 It was 1974 when I started my career at Clarion-McCann in Bombay. Tara Sinha, or Mrs Sinha as she has always been referred to, had been head of the office. She had since moved to Calcutta and then to Delhi to set up ACIL (Advertising Consultants India Ltd), a wholly Indian subsidiary of the company to handle public sector business (which by the new rules, only a wholly Indian-owned agency could). Subroto Sen Gupta was in Bombay as Regional Director, but you couldn’t miss her presence, not because she visited frequently (she didn’t) but because every now and then, someone would refer to Mrs Sinha – about an office rule she had made; her view on a particular brand; how she had stood up to some client; or how she had taken someone to task – and always, always with respect.

 Over the years her name kept cropping up, as she moved to Coca-Cola, first in Delhi and then in Atlanta; returned to Clarion and left; set up Tara Sinha Associates; got into partnership with McCann, and eventually sold the agency to them. At one time her daughter Pia worked with me, and at another time her brother was my client (both in another agency, not hers) but I never got to work with her.

 Circa 1991, her agency was thrown out of AAAI. The offence was that on one account, Videocon, they did the creative work and media planning but handed over to another agency for media buying, and of course in that process shared the 15 per cent agency commission. That was labelled discounting, and a violation of AAAI rules.  

 Mrs Sinha was summoned by the AAAI. R K Swamy accompanied her to lend support. Mine was the lone dissenting voice on the Executive Committee, which included AAAI laureates Anil Kapoor (in the Chair), Goutam Rakshit and Arun Nanda. I pointed out that Hindustan Lever had been doing the same thing for many years. (Back then media planning was done by each creative agency for its brands and all buying by Lintas.) But Lever was the biggest advertiser in the country and too big to wag a finger at, so AAAI turned a blind eye to the offence. Tara Sinha Associates, though, was good to flex their muscles with and show who was boss.

 That was some six years before Carat started in India, in 1997, and ten before Universal McCann and Mindshare did. Clearly, she saw the future when the leaders of the AAAI did not.

 I stepped once again into her lengthened shadow when I joined McCann-Erickson. She had sold her stake in the agency to McCann and her name was off the shingle, but there again were the frequent references to what she had said or done. And in what had once been her agency I saw her legacy in action. She was tough and demanding, but what she demanded was high professional standards. And what she left behind at McCann was some top drawer professionals committed to the high standards she drove and inspired them to live up to. In them, she lives on.

______________________

First published in www.exchange for media.com, 12 Dec 2019

Monday, May 22, 2017

NBA vs Republic TV — Pot calling the kettle…?

Republic TV’s entry, its over-the-top first week ratings, and its alleged manipulation of distribution expose the weaknesses of a system where the ratings agency is broadcaster-owned.

CHINTAMANI RAO puts the ensuing outcry in perspective
---------------------------------

It was inevitable. It was only a question of who would be first to pull the trigger, and when.

Two years ago, almost to the day, I raised the red flag – even before BARC started publishing data. Asked in a Q&A with The Hoot about the watermarking technology to be deployed by BARC, I had said (in part) the problem with it is that the broadcaster controls the switch. If you’re disgruntled and don’t want your channel to be measured you can simply stop watermarking, and the system will not be able to read your channel. That will distort the picture, and a major network doing that could hold the whole system to ransom.

Last week it happened. All English news channels turned off watermarking, and with that BARC’s ability to measure and report their viewership. All except Republic, that is, which was the cause of the action. The other English news broadcasters want BARC, or someone, to take action against Republic for multiple placement of the channel on distribution networks – having multiple LCNs, as it is termed.[i]

Let’s rewind a bit.

 

“He that is without sin among you…”

As Republic was gearing up for launch the word went round in the business that it had acquired multiple LCNs on several distribution networks. Perturbed, the News Broadcasters Association (NBA), of which Republic is not a member, wrote to BARC not to report its data. NBA also complained to TRAI.

Republic went on air on Saturday, 6th May. (Saturday is a good day to launch, because BARC’s reporting week is Saturday-Friday and you get a full week of data from your very first week. Data for the week are published on the following Thursday.) Accordingly, data for Week 19 (6th to 12th May) were published on 18th May – and all hell broke loose.

Republic was reported to have had, in its very first week, a 51% share of viewership of English news channels. Unthinkable, and unacceptable.

Times Now, long the undisputed leader in English news, had been widely expected to crash when Arnab Goswami quit. Everyone watched keenly but  week after week it remained no. 1, to the utter surprise and frustration of its competition. Then Goswami came back on air, now as the face of Republic, and – lo! – promptly that channel appeared on top while Times Now slid to second place. Worse, the viewership of Republic was 80% higher than that of Times Now, and twice that of the next three combined. No ifs and buts: Republic was it.

Meanwhile India Today TV also complained, to both BARC and TRAI, about Times Now too engaging in the same practice, of multiple LCNs. Yes, the same India Today which had done the same thing two years ago, when Headlines Today was rebranded and relaunched as India Today. According to a Chrome Data Analytics report at the time India Today TV was on dual frequencies on each of 70 cable networks, giving it an additional 22% reach. At a cost, of course: by some estimates, 50%  over its normal carriage fee.

Nor were they shy about what they had done. Ashsih Bagga, CEO of India Today Group, was quoted commenting on it, and expressing his delight with the outcome in viewership and market share. Alas, the glory was shorlived: the channel was no. 1 for one week, before dropping back to its usual place in the pecking order. An expensive, if happy, week.

Times Now did not deny India Today’s charge, only justified it as a “defensive manouvre”.

BARC chose to do nothing about either complaint – NBA’s against Republic or India Today’s against Times Now – and for very good reason. They said they were aware of broadcasters engaging in this practice in the past too, and took the position that they “… measure viewership of channels basis their unique Watermark ID, irrespective of the platform the channel is available on or the number of instances within the platform.” And, quite rightly, that “BARC India is not the regulatory body for resolving issues concerning multiplicity of LCNs for a channel.” Unexceptionable, on both counts.

In fact BARC’s policy already states that, “Regulatory issues pertaining to this, if any, would lie within the domain of the Ministry of Information & Broadcasting (MIB) and/or Telecom Regulatory Authority of India (TRAI).”

Reacting to what they saw as BARC’s inaction against Republic, all other English news channels stopped watermarking, thus effectively pulling out of the BARC system and rendering it unable to measure and report English news viewership at all.

Now it is reported that TRAI will conduct an enquiry. Into what and to what end remains to be seen.

 

Heads, they win; tails, we lose

Matters are now rather interestingly poised. For all the sound and fury the anchors display on their nightly shows, English news is a very tiny genre in the overall context of Indian TV: less than 0.1% of total TV viewership. Even within the news category itself all of English news is only about 8% of the leading Hindi news channel, Aaj Tak – which itslelf is only about 9% of the leading Hindi GEC, Star Plus.

So what does that imply for the current impasse?

The most important reason for audience measurment is for advertisers  to know where to put their money. If the channel or the genre is important enough they manage without data because they cannot afford to miss the audience it delivers. That is what they did during the painful period of transition from TAM to BARC: they bought on the basis of old data.

In this case, though, it’s not just the absence of current data: the whole category has been disrupted. Data up to Week 18 does not feature Republic, while data with Republic is available only for Week 19 and cannot be comapared with earlier weeks. So there is, in effect, no data at all.

Nor is English news is central to any advertiser’s plans: it is just too tiny. There is probably not a single media plan in the country which would be disrupted in its absence. That is not to say that advertising on English news is useless: just that it’s not essential. And what it adds to a media plan – frequency, impact and delivering a focused audience – it does at a relatively high cost, getting as it does 22-25% of what advertisers spend on news channels for delivering a tiny fraction of the news audience.

The affected broadcasters are caught in a cleft stick. Unless a knight in shining armour – the government, TRAI or the courts – charges in to their rescue, they have two choices: make some face-saving gesture, get back in, and risk having the Week 19 kind of data again; or stay out and risk advertisers pulling out in the absence of data. While they have acted as a subset of the NBA all of them are also members of the IBF, the biggest shareholder in BARC, and a couple of them are on its board. What they do have going for them is of course the clout of the news media, which can often induce matters to take an unpredictable turn.

BARC, on the other hand, is not immediately affected. The largest part of its revenue comes from broadcasters, and of about 900 TV channels in India only 6 are in English news. Their broadcasters cannot afford to pull out of BARC fully because all of them have other channels, for whcih they need the data.

BARC’s other source of revenue is media agencies, on behalf of advertisers, who can afford not to buy English news. This means the absence of data on English news will not materially affect the value and usefulness of BARC data to its subscribers, and therefore will not affect BARC. 

If TRAI does uphold the complaint against Republic and orders it to operate on a single LCN, it is highly unlikely that the broadcaster will snap to attention and comply: they are bound to fight any adverse ruling through all the appelate processes available to them. In other words, whatever Republic is doing or has done is not going to change in a hurry.

For the present, then, BARC is safe, advertisers are unaffected, and it is the English news channels which have something to think about: they got themselves into this situation and they have to dig themselves out of it.

 

But that is only for the present

What this standoff has done is to expose the weaknesses of the system, the better to be exploited by those better placed to do so.

First, that BARC can be held to ransom. This time it has been challenged by a small genre that does not materially affect it or its other stakeholders, but what’s been done once can be done again: next time by a single broadcaster or a group of them whose absence is keenly felt and forces BARC to the negotiating table.

Second, the practice of multiple LCNs is out in the open. It’s not financially viable on an ongoing basis but is a useful way to get a temporary blip in ratings for the launch of a new show, for example. It distorts the data but BARC will – even if rightly – do nothing about it. So, unless there a law or a court ruling to prevent it, it’s here to stay.

The advantage of a system run by a vendor – like TAM – is that the vendor has no role in the business except to provide data. They are answerable to the industry  and the survival of the system depends on their being able to keep the stakeholders satisfied.

On the other hand, the problem with an industry-owned and –driven system like BARC is that the players have interdependent relationships outside of the measurment system and have conflicting stakes in the business. Worse, in the case of BARC the ones being measured not only control the system, but also individually have the power to opt out of it at will. That cannot be a sustainable situation.

BARC as an entity is not responsible for the shenanigans of broadcasters, but those very broadcasters own (60 per cent of it) and drive it. They are the plaintiff, judge and jury. Unless it finds a solution outside the judicial system in which affected parties – which would most often be the constituents of its own shareholders – can approach an objective, independent body of third-party experts, the audience measurment ecosystem can look forward to the proverbial interesting times.

 

[i] A channel is meant to appear in the programme guide on your TV only once, in the genre to which it belongs, i.e., among like channels. A channel that appears more than once, in different genres, increases its chances of being viewed, because when people surf they come across it more than once, and so could increase its ratings without actually being seen more. This is a questionable practice, but not illegal.

 

Chintamani Rao is one of the few people who have seen TV audience measurement in India in all its aspects. He has been a subscriber on both the broadcasting side of the business as well as on the media agency side, and has served on the boards of both the IBF and of the NBA, of which he was one of the founders. He was involved with the inception of BARC (Broadcast Audience Research Council) and was Chairman in its early days. As a industry leader he played a significant role in legal and regulatory issues in broadcasting. 

---------------------------------

First published in The Hoot (http://asu.thehoot.org/), 22nd May 2017 

Thursday, October 20, 2016

The Yogi and the Commissar

 

The Yogi and the Commissar

BY CHINTAMANI RAO| IN Books | 20/10/2016
It’s the season for media biographies, as NDTV and TV18 publish their life stories. If NDTV comes across as self-righteous TV18 is open about its sins of commission.
CHINTAMANI RAO says the books offer an illuminating comparison

 

Book review

More News Is Good News: 25 Years of NDTV, Edited by Ayesha Kagal, HarperCollins Publishers India, 2016, 392 pages, Rs 799.

Network 18: The Audacious Story of a Start-up That Became a Media Empire,  by Indira Kannan, Penguin Random House, 2016, Rs 699.

 

NDTV celebrates its 25th anniversary with More News is Good News: Untold Stories from 25 Years of Television News; and Network 18 marks the transition in its ownership with the unimaginatively (if correctly) titled Network 18: The Audacious Story of a Start-up That Became a Media Empire. To be accurate, though, it is not Network 18 but its previous owners who are marking the transition.

It is interesting how true to type the two books are: the one, self-absorbed and self-satisfied; the other, racy and somewhat breathless.

 

The man doth protest too much

The NDTV book is high-school-year-book-meets-corporate-brochure. A collection of pieces by employees and associates recalling the wonderful times they have had, proud of and grateful for the privilege of belonging, and with an underlying note of the superiority of NDTV. High professional standards, ethical, principled. It never did anything wrong, and rarely made a mistake.

Prannoy Roy sets the tone in his opening piece. He presents NDTV as the brave victim of a corrupt environment, standing proud, bloody but unbowed, and makes a virtue of the company’s poor performance in both ratings and profits.

Each of the company’s three news channels – NDTV 24X7, NDTV India and NDTV Profit – was once the leader in its genre but has not been for years.  Roy’s contention is that this is so for two reasons. One, because NDTV has refused to prostitute itself for ratings. Two, because the ratings system is both inadequate and manipulated by unscrupulous broadcasters. To anyone who has known the news broadcasting business in India, that is a familiar refrain.

It is not as if there has been just one ratings system in the country. During NDTV’s life as a broadcaster there have been three. First there was TAM. When NDTV began to slide down in TAM ratings, along came aMap, which showed it in a much stronger position. So while TAM was the industry standard, they switched to citing aMap, slicing and dicing the data to claim leadership.

When, in time, their channels slid down in aMap too, they ran a campaign citing three unnamed “major surveys across India" to claim 60% viewership among an undefined audience. Contrary to standard professional practice, the ads did not detail where, when, and by whom these “major surveys” were done, or the defining parameters. Coming from a company that has its origins in psephology and counts among its brains trust Dorab Sopariwalla, the senior-most market research professional in India, it seems unlikely that this was out of ignorance or an innocent oversight.

In 2012 NDTV sued TAM’s parents Nielsen and Kantar for $1.3 bn in a New York court on charges of deliberately publishing corrupt and tainted data, favouring rival channels in return for bribes. The claim included compensation for loss of revenue over a period of eight years, the amount on that account reported variously in a range from $680 mn to $810 mn. Calculating even at an average of Rs 50 to $1 for an amount of $700 mn, that is Rs 3,500 crore or an average of over Rs 400 crore per annum in loss of revenue.

To place that claim in perspective, consolidated revenue reported in six years to March 2012 (available data), the year in which NDTV sued Nielsen et al, was a total of Rs 2,635 crore, or an average of Rs 439 crore a year, which is about the same as the claimed loss of revenue. In other words, NDTV claimed they lost half their potential revenue because of TAM’s shenanigans. How likely is that?

In the event, the New York court dismissed the case and nothing has come of it thus far.

Now TAM and aMap (which had closed earlier) have been replaced by BARC, a ratings provider set up jointly by the industry bodies of broadcasters, advertisers and advertising agencies. BARC data for Week 40 of 2016 (1st to 7th Oct) show NDTV 24X7 with a share of 12% is fourth of five English news channels; NDTV Profit with a share of 13% is fourth of five in English business news; and NDTV India is not in the top five in Hindi news. So it would seem all ratings systems are either  inadequte or manipulated.

 

"It does not become a self-appointed moral standard bearer to constantly moan about how unfair the world is."

 

No, wait. There’s hope yet. “Another benchmark is the BARB in the UK, which just came out with their ratings that NDTV 24x7 is India’s Number 1 news channel ahead of Aaj Tak and ABP,” said Vikram Chandra, CEO, in an interview to Impactonnet. Doesn’t BARB measure viewership in the UK, though, not in India? Ah, I get it. NDTV 24X7 is the most viewed Indian news channel in the UK – not quite India’s Number 1 news channel, as Chandra would have us think.

The issue is not low ratings; it is that NDTV can neither improve the ratings nor live with the fact. It does not become a self-appointed moral standard bearer to constantly moan about how unfair the world is.

 

The Sermon on the Mount

Roy informs us that NDTV operates by what they call (“rather pompously”, he admits) the “Heisenberg principle of journalism”. Paraphrased, it means that for a news organization, profits and integrity are in conflict. “Almost by definition, the path to making profits for a news organization is littered with compromises that change the nature of journalism, often so that it can no longer be recognized as a news channel,” he says, and goes on to describe three: going tabloid; fiddling the ratings; and blackmail and extortion.

NDTV, of course, does none of these reprehensible things, which is why it is not profitable.

Dismissing all Hindi news channels (except NDTV India) as tabloid, Roy contends that advertisers, advertising agencies, CEOs and marketing heads watch only English channels, “so all decisions on advertising rates and expenditure are based solely on the number of eyeballs, not on the quality of the channel, because nobody has watched any Hindi channel.” Unlike the UK, he says, where a quality media vehicle gets “a much higher advertising rate per eyeball than a tabloid”, in India it does not.

Again Roy conveniently, and disappointingly, ignores the facts.

BARC reports that in Week 40 of 2016 Aaj Tak generated 164.58 million impressions; Times Now, 1.34 million; and NDTV 24X7, 331,000. If advertisers were to pay all of them the same rate per 1000 impressions – as they logically should – NDTV 24X7 should earn a price per 10 seconds that is 25% of what Times Now does; and 0.2% of what Aaj Tak does. Roy knows far better than I do what kind of rates each of them gets today, but I have no doubt NDTV 24X7 gets far more than the number of impressions would warrant.

NDTV’s lasting contribution to Indian broadcasting – not just news but all broadcasters – does not find a mention in the book: the infamous placement fee which financially crippled Indian broadcasters, including NDTV, and continues to.

For the uninitiated, in the old days when TV distribution used analogue technology, it offered limited bandwidth. (Remember when you had no set top box and the channels showed up on your TV in a seemingly random order?) Those with top-end TV sets could receive 106 channels in theory, but fewer than 60 with reasonable (for then) clarity; and at the other end, the rank-and-file could see 11 clearly, and a total of 36 at all. Hundreds of channels competed to buy those positions, simply so they could be seen, and obviously the ones with the deepest pockets got them.

Over time the practice grew to such proportions that for many broadcasters – and certainly for news broadcasters – the placement fee became the single largest line item in their P&L. Distribution became the first priority for the allocation of funds, ahead of content and salaries. While the biggest networks – Star, Zee, Sun, Network 18, Sony – got into the distribution business themselves, cutting their own costs and making money to boot, all but the big five have been bleeding for years.

Digital technology will put an end to this extortionate practice, which is why the cable trade has resisted the efforts of successive governments and continues to stall digitization in large parts of the country. That is the reason for those syrupy ads on TV sweet-talking viewers into getting a set-top box. No government can afford to arm-twist cable operators, who are politically important at the local level, so they keep pushing the digitization deadline (now it’s 31st December 2016) and cajoling viewers.

It is widely believed in the TV business that the initiator of this practice was NDTV, and there is enough anecdotal evidence to support the belief. One view is that they did this to prepare for and support the 2005 launch of NDTV Profit, going up as they were against the entrenched CNBC-TV18. But a key NDTV player of the time, who was in the thick of it then, told me years afterwards that it was earlier, to ensure the visibility of their channels prior to their IPO in April 2004.

For all his protestations, Roy goes on to accept that “on balance our news media and its ‘soft power’, both television and print, have been working for democracy.”  But, he cautions, we are hurtling towards a regulatory cliff, and that is when governments try to take control. “…the time has come once again to fight any encroachment by the government and to act before it is too late,” and, later, “…any changes in the media environment must be initiated and guided by journalists, in dialogue with the judiciary, not with or by the government.”

Instead of these and similar broad statements about the way things should be, it would have been good to know what Roy and his colleagues have done about these issues. Leadership means walking the talk, not just sermonizing.

 

Missed opportunity

The rest of the book is detail. Vishnu Som’s piece Reporting Under Fire, reminiscent of the writing of John Simpson, stands out for actually sharing the experience: the trials and tribulations, the frustrations, the limitations, and the triumphs. That is the kind of first-person inside story you want to hear.

Barkha Dutt, who must have much to share, has only her script for a show she did to mark the tenth anniversary of her Amanpour moment, her coverage of the Kargil war. Amusingly, the script is reproduced in its entirety, complete with marginal notes and directions like these:

 

-          “Start with an abstract close-up – a flower, a bit of a stream, and not a mountain long shot”

-          ”Bite – Vishal, brother of Vikram, doesn’t speak very clearly – so have to see if this works”

-          “Slow-mo shots of us looking at mountains together”

 

You’re left wondering whether this is due to vanity or simply poor copy checking.

The book is a missed opportunity – for the reader, if not for NDTV. This is not just any 25-year old company. It is a company that was in the forefront of one of the biggest, most fundamental changes this country has seen, without which democracy was a joke.  A couple of pieces recalling the clunky, makeshift operations of the old days are interesting and amusing, but there is regrettably little by way of insights, or of sharing of what must have been the excitement – sometimes heady, sometimes tense – of pioneering private news television in the country in the teeth of paranoid regulation.

 

Network 18’s mea culpa

If the NDTV book is about what’s wrong with the rest of the world, the Network 18 book is a confessional: “a story of brilliant ideas, severe setbacks, naked aggression, spectacular victories and fatal flaws”, as a cover blurb describes it.  Written – very competently – by Indira Kannan, a former Network 18 journalist, it obviously has the full approval of Raghav Bahl, who also holds the copyright to it. 

The rise and fall of his empire was fraught with questionable practice, but with Network 18 now behind him, Bahl has nothing to lose on that front and tells it – or lets it be told – like it is. Detractors and those in the know will inevitably have different versions of incidents, but to the outsider this is a dramatic story candidly told.

Bahl in his foreword writes with angst about losing control of Network 18. “With such enviable achievements, why do I still ask, ‘Did I succeed?’ Because I eventually lost control… A far more important question than, ‘Did I succeed?’ for any first-generation entrepreneur is, ‘Why did I fail?’ I can answer that for myself with hindsight candour. It was a lethal mix of hubris, unrealistic ambition fuelled by reckless debt, and the misplaced belief that I could tame any crisis.”

It is creditable that up front he takes full responsibility for the denouement. There will no doubt be those who question the detail, but it is unlikely anyone would argue with Bahl’s ownership of the outcome.

 

Adventure and misadventure

The tie-up with CNN was quite a whodunit in itself, starting with pulling it out from under NDTV’s nose. Full credit is given to Haresh Chawla for the whole gutsy, brazen process from the idea to the closure, and to the surprising, little-known role of Subhash Chandra in facilitating it.

The launch and success of Colors – now the no. 3 channel in India, after Sun and Star Plus – is a story of guts and glory. NDTV Imagine, Real and 9X had been dismal failures. Why would there be room for yet another Hindi GEC? Colors set out to be big, and pulled out the stops in content, distribution and promotion. It started with big shows, upped the ante on distribution – the broadcasting industry was agog with whispers about how much they spent – and invested heavily in advertising and promotion.

But, as I wrote elsewhere at that time, it is not enough to have the resources. It needs the risk appetite to put money, careers and reputations on the line, and then the energy to fight every single day to keep your place at the top of the league table. Chatting to Haresh Chawla when the launch of Colors was imminent, I remarked about the huge amount of money they were known to be spending. “Paise to phir kamaalenge,” he said. “Izzat ka kya hoga?” (“We’ll earn the money again, but what about the loss of face if we fail?”)

For all its successes, Network18 lurched from crisis to crisis, most often of its own making. Having never been known to take time off, “In 2007, finally, [Bahl] would take leave – unfortunately, however, it was of his senses…” Global Broadcast News had had a madly successful IPO, but ambition, impatience and liquidity make a deadly cocktail. Even while deep in debt, between 2009 and 2011, TV18 managed to raise Rs 1,000 crore in equity.

 

"Ironically, a company built on a foundation of reporting and analysing business and the stock markets was sinking because of some of the worst practices of listed companies"

 

“Stuck in a deep hole,” Kannan writes,“[they] had managed to get their hands on a 1000-crore-rupee ladder…. Instead of stepping on the ladder, Raghav and his managers decided to widen the pit.” And so instead of paying off their debt they blew up the money on Homeshop18, Firstpost, and a new Hindi movie channel.

That, says Bahl, was when they lost Network18. What happened later (borrowing from Reliance and their conversion of the debt into equity) was, he says, only the singing of the dirge. In his narration of the process of losing control there is no rancour, only regret. He takes full responsibility for what happened, and says Reliance did nothing more than they were entitled to within the framework of his agreement with them.

In the course of its growth from a production house to a media empire, Network18 developed a highly questionable ownership structure. Each time they launched a new channel – CNBC Awaz, CNN-IBN – they set up another company and stock analysts complained that Bahl was siphoning off value from TV18. Bahl blames “outrageous” rules regarding foreign equity, because of which the only way to get each licence was to launch another private company, off TV18’s balance sheet.

Equity analysts don’t buy that argument. Nikhil Vohra, CEO of a venture capital fund and one of the first analysts to follow TV18 and Indian media stocks, says the complexity and opacity of the group’s structure was unwarranted.

“It is completely untenable to suggest that it’s the government which forced them to do what they’d done,” he is quoted as saying, and that investors “just lost complete faith in what Raghav was doing”, diminishing the company’s ability to raise equity and forcing Bahl to support the business with debt.

Asked earlier by Shuchi Bansal of Mint (in an interview published as an appendix in the book) what his compulsions were to sign the Reliance deal, Bahl says, “We were in a classical debt trap. Our market cap had come down to Rs 400 crore; our debt was Rs 2,000 crore plus. So a debt to market cap ratio of 5. We would not have survived.” But the debt trap was not something that happened to them: it was of their making.

Bahl does say that in terms of delivering value to shareholders the company was an ‘absolute and abysmal failure’, and that, “None of these analyst things would have happened if we had actually put the shareholder first.” Too little, too late.

Ironically, a company built on a foundation of reporting and analysing business and the stock markets was sinking because of some of the worst practices of listed companies: opaque structures, siphoning off shareholder value, and a cavalier attitude to public money. It was this attitude that led to many infractions such as buying Infomedia without due diligence, for example, or going into huge contract negotiations without legal advice.

All credit to Bahl for letting it all hang out, for taking the responsibility, and for letting his views on many issues be presented as just that: as only his views, along with others which don’t necessarily agree with his, including, on the Indian Film Company fiasco, his sister’s. While it has its place, that doesn’t detract from the rights and wrongs of what he did, by commission or by omission.

What Kannan has written, and Bahl has authorised, is much more than the biography of an entrepreneur or of a broadcasting network. It is instructive reading for any entrepreneur,  indeed, for any CEO, whether owner or professional. There are of course lessons in what Bahl did – the boldness, the risk taking – but the more valuable lessons, perhaps, are in what he did not or did wrong, not just as a rookie entrepreneur but even at the height of his high-profile success. The latter is scary, and a warning to every CEO.

 

Different strokes…

The timing of the two books is fortuitous, enabling as it does an illuminating comparison of two leaders, of two organisations, following a path much the same in many ways and at about the same time, but in two very different ways and with very different outcomes.

Interestingly, these books come hard on the heels of the publication earlier this year of the autobiography of Subhash Chandra, perhaps the original television trailblazer, from yet another background and with yet another personality and style.

For those interested in television, especially for those who have been associated with the business and have known the players, this has been a year of rich reading. But among all of them the Network 18 story stands out for the important messages it holds for anyone who runs a business.

 

Note: Title from Arthur Koestler, The Yogi and the Commissar (1945). The Commissar, at the materialist end of the spectrum, uses any means necessary, while the Yogi's emphasis is on ethical purity, not on results.

___________________________

First published in The Hoot (http://asu.thehoot.org/research/books/the-yogi-and-the-commissar-9726_),  20 Oct 2016

Search This Blog