GUIDELINES FOR WRITING A CASE STUDY

it is important not summarize the case. Please resist this temptation. I would like you to follow the following outline for your case studies:

1) Please identify the central issue(s) or problem(s) in the case study;

2) Please explain what the source of the central issue(s) or problem(s) is. Why is the situation the way it is?

3) Please explain what the implications and/or ramifications of the situation are;

4) Please make a recommendation or endorsement. (It is essential that your recommendation be supported by your analysis in step #3).

GORDON MCMASTER, the CEO of Hunsk Engines, introduced his new head of

marketing to the company's top managers over bagels and coffee.

"I want to make something clear," Gordon told the group. "I know we've gone through a

number of marketing VPs and campaigns. But Marty is the guy we've been waiting for. I

know what he stands for, what he wants to push the company to do, and he has my

unqualified support."

Gordon knew Marty Echt had the chops for the position. The new hire had spent his early post-MBA years at a large packaged-goods company learning the consumer-marketing

ropes, but he'd earned his reputation as a focused miracle worker elsewhere: He'd

transformed a bottled-water manufacturer into an innovator in the energy-drinks space

and then built a distributor of specialty sports equipment into a cult brand.

On his first day at Hunsk, Marty was dressed to impress. He wore his best work suit, his

cream dress shirt, and a tie with a soft brown and green pattern that pulled it all together.

But Paula Marchesi, director of promotions, was most interested in the unpolished, black,

heavy-soled boots under Marty's trouser cuffs. "Trouble," she thought.

Marty thanked his boss and then took the floor. Hunsk Engines had, he explained to his

new colleagues, systematically devalued its considerable pedigree. There had been a time

when Hunsk was considered a rival to Harley-Davidson. Harley made the wild brute

machines with their characteristic growl, but Hunsk appealed to those who wanted a bike

that ticked like a clock even as it moved like a rocket. The paradigmatic Hunsk rider

wasn't someone who was just trying to look like an outlaw. He (men dominated the

company's demographic) was a real rebel. Fiercely independent. Confident and edgy.

More a Dennis Hopper than a James Dean.

The company had made the classic mistake of trying to expand its reach at the expense of its existing market. Twenty years ago, Hunsk had tried to move into light motorcycles,

touting the quietness of its engines with a tagline that asked, "Was it the wind or a

Hunsk?" - as if people rode Hunsks because they didn't want to be noticed. Then there

was the attempt to appeal to the youth market. Marty liked the way the tagline "Before

you have to get a car, ride your Hunsk" repositioned cars as a drag, but Hunsk bikes were

no adolescent playthings. They were serious machines. Currently, the company was using

an eco-friendly marketing pitch: "More freedom per gallon." Marty had known all this

before he arrived. Keeping up with the motorcycle industry was a passion for him. He bet

he was the only one in that room - including, he suspected, the CEO - who could rattle off

the model and year Hunsk last used real leather for seats.

The next day, Marty gathered the entire marketing group. "What happened to the Italian suit?" Paula asked.

Marty laughed. He was now in a tired sports coat, black slacks, and his motorcycle boots. "I didn't want to frighten anyone right away with the real me," he said with a smile.

After the others had introduced themselves, Marty began: "Obviously there are going to

be changes, but this is something we can succeed at only if we work together."

The direction Marty wanted to go was simple and seemed blindingly obvious to him.

"This is a real company," he said. "It's not some internet start-up that switches from

making video games one day to saving whales the next. We're not making cheap

knockoffs of designer dresses. Hunsk is the real deal. We make the best damn

motorcycles in the world. We don't have 'customers' - we have believers. Well, we used

to, before we got away from our roots." "So," said Paula, "we're going to do back-toour-

roots marketing campaign."

Marty noted the touch of cynicism in her voice. "No. It's not just a marketing campaign.

We're really going back to our roots. Hunsk has always been about authenticity. We are

going to become the authentic company we once were. If it were just more marketing

bull, our customers - our believers - would sense it."

"We're going to eat our own dog food?" suggested Carla Meyer, head of marketing

communications.

Marty crossed his arms and smiled. "We're going to be our dog food."

Bugs in Your Teeth

Marty stood among the hundreds of motorcycles being showcased at the Cycle Thunder

World Expo. He hadn't ridden one since a bad spill his senior year in college. But as he

surveyed the bikes around him, he remembered how much he'd loved forcing his way

through the wind, challenging the laws of motion.

After he made his way through the display area, he stopped at the Hunsk booth and was

appalled by what he saw. Granted, it had been too early to roll out the new marketing

campaign. Nevertheless, he cringed at Hunsk's efforts. The booth was pitifully

conventional - some bikes on display, racks full of same-old-same-old brochures, and a

contest to win luggage containers for the bike many attendees probably didn't even own.

Marty made a mental note that at the next exhibit they ought to show bikes that were

dirty and maybe a little dinged. The pristine, glistening machines out on the floor were

too far removed from customers' experience.

Shortly before he had to leave for his plane, he grabbed Paula and pulled her far back into

the Hunsk booth. "It's not your fault," he told her, "but I have to say I'm pretty

disappointed. The marketing materials are all fine" - intentionally weak praise - "and

obviously we're not ready for the new launch, but all that's fixable."

Paula clenched her teeth, waiting for what was next. "I happened to spend a fair bit of

time with Connie March, watching her interact with prospects," Marty said. "She's a very

nice woman, and she seems to know the product line. But do you think she's ever been on

a motorcycle?"

"Marty, customers love her."

"Yes, I'm sure she's a great employee and a great person, and there's definitely a spot at

Hunsk Engines for her. But we've got to get her off the front lines. And not just her. We

have a team of top-notch demo-ers and salespeople, but when you walk into our booth,

you should feel as if you've just walked into a garage where people have grease - our

grease - under their fingernails. Nobody's going to believe that about Connie or the rest of

the crew. This booth just yells 'Poseur!'"

Paula sighed. Connie would be devastated to hear the feedback.

A few days later, Marty addressed the marketing team at a commercial racetrack, where

he'd brought the group for a field trip. It struck him how very little anyone there looked

like the typical Hunsk customer. "How many of you had ever been on a motorcycle

before today?" he asked. That was the real point of the afternoon: Every member of

Marty's team had been taken for a spin by someone from the track's service crew.

About half the hands went up.

"Keep 'em up. Now, how many of you had ever been on a Hunsk?" About a third of the

hands went down. "Not too bad. And how many of you have ever owned a motorcycle?"

Only three hands stayed in the air.

"So, what did you think of your Hunsk moment?" Marty asked. A couple of people said,

"Cool" or "Fun." He continued, "More specifically, what did being on the back of the

Hunsk 2000 JetEdge make you think of? What did it remind you of?"

The group could now tell that it was time for some Marketing 101. Faces got serious.

"Like riding a bull," said a woman from design.

"This was a great idea," a man from the exhibition staff added. "I think I really get it

now."

"I was terrified," said Zack Inchon from investor relations. "I felt like I was going to fall

off the entire time." Zack had tried to beg off, but Marty had insisted: "How can we be an

authentic company if we have marketing people who refuse to even be a passenger on

one of our bikes?"

"I felt manly," said Paula.

Marty ignored the sarcasm, but he did think he saw a few smirks.

Back at the office later that week, Marty was stopped in the hallway by Pete Ricard, who

headed the PR group.

"I'm a little confused by your notes on my budget proposal," Pete said. "I know a lot of

people consider cause marketing to be a frill, and its results can be hard to measure - "

"I have no problem with cause marketing," Marty explained as he steered Pete toward the

snack machine. "It's just this cause."

"You're against motorcycle safety?"

Marty laughed. "I'm totally in favor of it. And motherhood, too. Hunsk makes the safest

bikes on the road. But your cause isn't exactly safety. It's advocacy for helmet laws."

"Helmets save lives."

"Sure they do, but the Hunsk rider doesn't want to have to wear a helmet. He doesn't want

to be reminded to stay alive - he wants to feel alive. And the brand is about freedom. Not

just the freedom of the open road, but the freedom to make your own choices. So aligning

ourselves with eminently sensible helmets and laws that are imposed by society makes

zero sense if we're going to stay true to the Hunsk experience."

"But aren't we being irresponsible then?" Pete asked.

"The owner's manual tells people to wear their helmets - but there's a difference between

marketing and manuals. I do support the idea of cause marketing, though," Marty

continued, putting his quarters into the machine and selecting the trail mix. "I want us to

lead the charge against those god-awful motorcycles without mufflers. That would get us

goodwill but also remind customers that our machines don't have to make a lot of noise to

be powerful. That's an authentic cause for Hunsk."

Right Skills, Wrong DNA

At first, Marty couldn't figure out what was so odd about the e-mail he'd received:

Dear Marty,

It's come to the attention of the Digital Marketing Group that

our recent experiment with user-generated content tagging on the

Hunsk site is having an unfortunate result. The tag cloud we've

created, at your suggestion, is showing that the two tags

customers apply most frequently are "problem" and "rattle."

We would therefore like to suggest that either: (1) those

words be removed from the tag cloud or (2) we reduce them in size

so that the tag cloud doesn't make it look as if Hunsk Engines'

customers are dissatisfied, especially since - as you know - our

customer satisfaction rates are among the very best in the

industry.

Thank you for your attention.

Sincerely,

Matthew Wyck

Ah. Matt wrote e-mails that sounded like memos. The tag cloud actually gave Marty a

little thrill. It was as close to customers as he could get on a daily basis. It showed what

they thought were the most important issues. He banged out a reply:

Matt,

Don't sweat it. Our customers love us, and they'll love us

more for being honest. Leave the tag cloud as is. It's part of

how we're building an authentic company.

And please send the link to those two tags to Quality

Assurance ASAP. Apparently there's a problem with a rattle in our

bikes.

Keep up the excellent digital work.

-Marty

As he sent the message, Fiona Napoli, a young and promising writer in the

communications group, entered his office resolutely. "What can I do you for?" he asked,

hoisting his boot-clad feet onto his desk.

"I was disappointed not to make it into the LTP." The Leadership Training Program

identified up-and-comers within the organization.

"I can understand that," Marty said, "but you shouldn't take it as a criticism."

"How can I not? Getting in is a sign that management has confidence in you, sees a future

for you with the company." She sat straight up.

"And we do. Definitely. You do great work for us. But look, you came to us right out of

school - if I remember correctly, Columbia Journalism. Doesn't get better than that."

"And that's a problem because...?"

"It's not a problem. But we're building a specific type of management team now. You

write well, you're a hard worker, you're helpful to your coworkers - "

"So, what's missing?"

"We need a management team that's got the same DNA as our customers."

"Not sure I follow," Fiona said. "Because I'm not a white man of a certain age and mindset,

you won't consider me for leadership development?"

"It has nothing to do with gender or age - but mind-set, yes. We are looking for people

who truly, deeply understand what this company stands for and what it means to our

customers."

"How do you know I don't?" Fiona challenged.

"Based on what I've seen, you'd be just as happy writing about food processors or politics

or health. You're smart. You're interested in a lot of things. Me, I'm interested in just one

thing right now: Hunsk motorcycles. I think about them in the shower. I think about them

when I'm playing with my son. I wake up in the middle of the night with ideas."

Fiona paused. He had pegged her correctly, but she thought it was a stupid reason to limit

her growth potential. She did her work exceptionally and was adaptable enough to tailor

it to the culture, even if she was not of that culture. As she turned on her heel, Marty

knew she'd be going back to her cubicle to search her laptop for her old rsum.

Getting Too Real?

Marty had been given free rein, more or less, his first few months. But he knew that the

CEO thought highly of Fiona, and he started to wonder how committed Gordon was to

total authenticity.

Gordon wondered that himself as he waited for his turn at the golf tee.

He liked Marty personally and loved his engagement with the product. And Marty's

marketing campaign was beginning to show results. The new tagline, the new ads, the

new look - everything reminded Gordon of his early years at Hunsk. He could practically

smell the sweat and gasoline that used to waft up from the basement engineering shops

and permeate the entire office. Gordon had ridden one of the original Hunsk PowerRevs

back when he had more time for leisure rides. But he couldn't remember the last time he'd

actually been on a Hunsk just for his own sheer pleasure. Long time ago. Too long.

Marty's campaign brought all that back to him, and it was apparently having the same

effect on the market. Even beyond the numbers, Gordon could sense it.

Still, there were complaints. A lot of them. Some very good people in the marketing

department felt out of place. Employees throughout the company who had done terrific

work for years were feeling dismissed, censored, marginalized. There had even been

complaints about Marty's use of salty language in the office, as if he were out with some

biker buddies. And Marty's rejection of helmet safety as a Hunsk worthy cause seemed off

the mark. It might even hurt the brand. Overall, though, Marty's marketing campaign

portraying Hunsk as an authentic company, one that's held on to its values, was definitely

promising. The fundamental question, Gordon realized, was more about the value of

being an authentic company than about the value of the campaign.

Maybe he should tell Marty just to stick to marketing and not to worry about the

company's authenticity. Yet, could a marketing campaign succeed in the long run if it

portrayed the company as filled with bike enthusiasts when in fact the employees would

just as soon commute in minivans? Hunsk was the "real deal," as Marty liked to put it,

and it seemed foolish not to turn that into a business advantage-but was the price too

high? Was authenticity even possible for a corporation?

Gordon stepped up to the tee and eyed the ball.