Sunday, 18 March 2018

Pick Up The Damned Phone -- March 2018


I was recently enjoying a drink with my wife and my employers at the Ashburton Hotel; we had just finished a fun day at the races courtesy of FarmSource and Ecolab and were contemplating where to head for dinner.

A hand clapped down on my shoulder and a voice boomed in my ear “Craig! Good to see you!” as is wont to happen in a crowded pub. I turned, expressing my pleasure to see them also, only to come face to face with a complete stranger. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not very good with names, but I’ll usually have a nagging feeling that I should know somebody or that I’ve met them before. Not this time.

Luckily for me the gentleman in question had thoroughly availed himself of the hospitality at the races and was having enough trouble remaining upright, let alone wondering why I wasn’t introducing him as my best friend to the others at the table. He knew my name, he knew I had booked annual leave for the next day and he inquired after my children. It wasn’t until he lurched off to the bar that my wife pointed out his parting farewell had been “We really should get a selfie together” that it finally clicked; he follows me on Twitter.

The encounter got me thinking about how much I share online. Despite the fact I’m a fairly prolific tweeter I’m also pretty private, what I do share is generally superficial; you might see what I’m eating or read my views on farming, you’ll see how proud I am of my children and get treated to jokes on every topic under the sun, but you’ll almost never read about things going badly in my life or how I’m feeling.

Plenty of people online share extremely personal things to their followers but that’s not me, either in real life or in the virtual world. It’s something that extends into other aspects of my life; I like to nut things out for myself, I tend to focus inwards and I’m reticent about asking for help. Unfortunately these are all things that can be bad for business.

We haven’t had a flash season on the farm this year, especially coming off the back of three record years, and the shareholders are understandably disappointed.

Some people who know me well online picked up that something was off, I didn’t post as often as I usually do and I was less ready with a joke, more inclined to snap.

I sat down with the farm consultant to review our season to date, and we pinpointed several things that in isolation don’t mean very much, but together they add up to something; we reared the calves ourselves instead of hiring help, we had key staff leave unexpectedly (one to pursue true love, the other because he got an offer he couldn’t refuse), we had trouble finding good replacement staff (we didn’t have a full complement until Christmas)and when I did find good staff I told them what to do instead of why we do things because it was expedient.

These things all meant I was focusing on the wrong area, I turned in and tried to solve problems rather than reaching out and asking for help. I didn’t share.

I didn’t focus on the single biggest driver of our production; hitting a 1600kg residual, instead I focused on trying to solve problems by myself. And it shows.

None of this means I’ll be any more inclined to share online when things aren’t going well, that’s just not me, but it does mean I’ve learned my lesson; that you can’t coast on previous successes and that if support is only a phone call away you should pick up the damned phone.

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