Conversa de Negócios
com Alberto Goulart

por Alberto Goulart

É uma receita. Não tem erro!

O sucesso de um sonho para mim está em três etapas: confiar, perseverar e vencer.

Para quem tem dúvida eu convido a fazer uma reflexão dos fatos que identificam estas três etapas.

Todas as pessoas já tiveram, em algum momento da vida, uma vitória. Seja na época da escola, da faculdade, do início de um trabalho, em um projeto, enfim, conhecem o caminho até o êxito.

O que acontece conosco quando estamos em uma nova jornada, é que dependendo da sequência de obstáculos que transpomos e devemos transpor, nós cansamos e colocamos em risco o sucesso do trabalho questionando sobre nossa capacidade. Talvez nessa hora pecamos por pensar demais!

Concordo que caso a dificuldade esteja sendo extrema, haja a necessidade de repensar o planejamento para decidir se a estratégia não está sendo pouco eficiente ou até mesmo errada.

No entanto o que quero mostrar é que talvez você já conseguiu suportar e liquidar obstáculos bem maiores e ainda, na ocasião da dificuldade , chega a questionar seu potencial. Por isto acho importante no momento de questionamento ser realizado o raciocínio da “razão sobre o esforço”.

A etapa do confiar, do perseverar e do vencer envolvem várias fases que, em sua maioria, não são simples mas são muito importantes para nossa vivência.

Quando estamos diante de uma nova oportunidade você só dá o primeiro passo depois que decide entrar na primeira etapa, que é a de confiar. Se você acredita que aquele projeto, aquele sonho, aquela oportunidade é interessante então você irá apostar a vitória nela. Isso é o início de um caminho que pode ser fácil e rápido, difícil e rápido, fácil e longo ou difícil e longo. O percurso dependerá do tamanho e da estratégia do projeto.

E não há milagres. O que há são esforços, inteligências e ações para catalisar o caminho através da assertividade.

Na etapa de fazer acontecer o que planejamos, nossas atitudes influenciam diretamente os resultados. Aqui é onde denomino de Etapa do Perseverar, onde estão a grande maioria dos obstáculos, os momentos onde exigirá ajustes, re-alinhamentos e talvez até a retificação do objetivo. É a etapa mais responsável pela vitória.

Tudo dando certo, ou seja, se ouve confiança e perseverança não há outro caminho para seu projeto acabar a não ser na vitória. Porém quando seu cliente gosta e decide por fazer parte do seu projeto aí você entra na Etapa do Vencer.

O importante é saber que na Etapa do Vencer existem variáveis que ainda podem comprometer a vitória. Por exemplo, se a vitória do seu projeto está na assinatura de um contrato, então é necessário manter a intensidade até que este ato seja formalizado. No meu caso, eu só comemoro realmente quando se inicia a etapa de pós-venda, que é quando eu realmente já estou dando manutenção na venda realizada.

Enfim, para concluir gostaria de resumir todas estas minhas idéias em uma figura conforme segue abaixo:

Poderia escrever dezenas de páginas sobre este assunto, baseado inteiramente nas experiências diante as minhas virtórias e derrotas, mas a idéia é somente formalizar uma conversa que tive com um amigo, onde ele me dizia “estar perdendo as forças para continuar a batalha”. Imagino que assim como ele, diversos empreendedores brilhantes também desistem de seus sonhos por conta das dificuldades da Etapa do Perseverar. O interessante é entendermos como é a ciência da vitória e mapearmos o caminho.

Com esta racionalidade sofremos menos e ficamos mais focados.

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Livros que recomendo para este assunto

por Paranashop

Cimento, esquadrias, louças de banheiro, metais, argamassa… a lista de compras de quem vai construir ou reformar é sempre grande. Um sistema de informatização de vendas desenvolvido no Paraná, inédito no Brasil, deixa muito mais fácil a vida dos clientes, em meio a tantos produtos. Trata-se de um software criado pelo departamento de Tecnologia da Informação da rede Balaroti para uso em suas lojas. Instalado em computadores de mão, ou PDAs (“Personal Digital Assistant” – Assistente Digital Pessoal), ele integra todo o procedimento de venda da loja.

Processa desde consulta ao estoque, orçamento, fechamento do pedido e financiamento até a entrega. Cada um dos vendedores possui o seu próprio equipamento. O resultado é uma economia de tempo para o cliente de 50%.

O sistema começou a ser implantado há duas semanas, nas lojas do Portão e de São José dos Pinhais. Nos próximos meses será estendido a toda a rede. A nova loja que será aberta pelo grupo, no bairro mercês, em maio, também já terá o novo sistema.

Antes de começar a ser utilizado, o software passou por um ano de desenvolvimento e mais um ano de testes. Todo o programa foi desenvolvido internamente pela empresa. Utiliza a plataforma windows. A comunicação entre os PDAs é feito via intranet, por meio de rede wireless. A tela no formato touch screen facilita a navegação, dando ainda mais agilidade ao processo. Os equipamentos também contam com leitores de códigos de barra, para consultar os preços de todos os produtos da loja sem necessidade de digitação.

Bastaram estas duas primeiras semanas para o programa confirmar sua eficácia. “Antes, os vendedores precisavam anotar os pedidos no papel e depois ir até o computador para processar a compra. Agora, enquanto acompanha o cliente pela loja, percorrendo cada seção, nossos funcionários já vão consultando estoque, anotando e calculando quantidades, e fazendo todo o processo de compra”, conta Cléberson Rodrigues de Paula, gerente do Balaroti do Portão, primeira loja da rede a utilizar a novidade. “O Cliente consegue saber se possuímos o produto e quanto vai pagar no momento em que esta caminhando na loja e escolhendo. Como resultado final, tudo ficou mais ágil: uma compra que antes levava 40 minutos agora é finalizada em 20”. Vale lembra que as lojas da rede oferecem 50 mil itens.

O software também avalia que tipo de material o cliente está comprando e, por meio de janelas, “lembra” o vendedor de conversar com o cliente sobre a necessidade de levar produtos complementares. “Em pesquisas, muitos clientes confirmavam o interesse de resolver todas suas necessidades de compra já na primeira visita à loja. Por exemplo, ao comprar a tinta, o programa já ajudaria a não esquecer de levar a quantidade suficiente de massa. Além disso, o software também auxilia a calcular a quantidade de produto necessário para determinada área”, complementa Eduardo Balaroti, diretor de marketing e de vendas da rede.

O programa também abriu um novo canal de comunicação entre os funcionários e entre eles e gerências. Ele permite que os vendedores enviem e recebam e-mails por meio dos computadores de mão. Ainda serve como agenda, arquivando os contatos e compras de cada cliente.

SOBRE O BALAROTI

Fundado há 33 anos, o Balaroti Comércio de Matérias de Construção é a maior rede do segmento no Paraná. Está entre as dez maiores do Brasil, sendo a primeira no Paraná. Conta atualmente com 16 lojas, sendo 11 em Curitiba, 3 na região metropolitana (Araucária, Pinhais e São José dos Pinhais), uma em Ponta Grossa e uma em Joinville. No total, são 1000 funcionários diretos e 500 funcionários indiretos.
Referência em sua área de atuação, foi eleita em 2008, pelo segundo ano, como uma das 150 melhores empresas brasileiras para se trabalhar, conforme o Guia Você S/A Exame. Também foi eleita noves vezes como empresa mais lembrada pelo prêmio Top of Mind da revista Amanhã, em parceria com o instituto Bonilha.

(FORTUNE Small Business) — When Mike Sinyard started importing Italian bike parts in 1974, his toughest challenge was finding space to store them inside his eight- by 30-foot trailer.

That turned out to be the least of his problems. Over the next 30 year he battled bankruptcy and monster competitors and competed for customers among finicky, demanding cyclists. Today Specialized, whose products sell in 1,200 of the nation’s high-end bike shops, is a profitable $500-million-a-year company that will relaunch 150 of its models by the end of the year, including one designed specifically for women.

Sinyard’s secret? Specialized has fostered a culture of innovation that has generated a long line of bike industry firsts – its 1981 Stumpjumper is enshrined in the Smithsonian Institution as the first mass-produced mountain bike. From the shop floor at his headquarters in Morgan Hill, Calif., Sinyard, 58, tells FSB his story.

I have always loved bikes. My dad was a machinist, and we worked on them together when I was a kid. Later on I used to ride my bike seven or eight miles a day to campus when I was taking classes at San Jose State University. To support myself, I bought old bikes at flea markets and fixed them up, then put ads in the paper to sell them.

I started out as an aviation major but quit soon after I realized I was a terrible pilot. I decided to enroll in business school. I thought there might be an opportunity importing high-end bike parts from Europe. Back in those days I had to search high and low for well-made components for my own bike, and I knew my friends wanted them too. While quality bikes were huge in Europe, over here most folks were riding basic Huffys. But there was a small contingent piecing together cool Italian bikes.

After graduation in 1972, I decided to take a bike tour through Europe. To finance the trip, I sold my old Volkswagen bus for $1,500. Three months into the tour, after riding from Amsterdam to Milan, I met a Swiss woman at a hostel and started talking to her about biking. She knew a few Italian cyclists and said she would help me land a meeting with key staff at Campagnolo and Cinelli, two big Italian bicycle manufacturers. Up to that point, I had been traveling in a pair of jeans and a sweater I hadn’t washed in a couple of months, so I spent some of my remaining money on a suit so I wouldn’t look like a bum.

Sitting with legendary component maker Cino Cinelli, I exaggerated a little and told him I was connected with all the top riders in the U.S. He seemed taken with my appreciation and enthusiasm for his products, and I used my remaining $1,200 to buy as many handlebars and stems as I could – exotic parts not readily available in the U.S. When I returned to San Jose I had no money left. I stored the products under my trailer so they wouldn’t get wet.

In Italy the artisans who craft lugs, frames, and tubing are considered specialists. I named the company Specialized Bicycle Components after them because I wanted to have a connection to that European passion and quality, something that would distinguish my products from the mainstream bikes popular at the time.

I didn’t have a car, so I came up with an efficient way to market the components: I outfitted my bike with the parts and rode to nearby stores. The first few dealers were skeptical; they had no idea who I was and didn’t know if they could trust me to deliver additional inventory. But they bought the products and waited to see if I could deliver more.

I sold out the first shipment but didn’t make money. My bank wouldn’t give me a loan, so I tried another tactic: I went to the bike shops and told them that if they gave me a cash advance for additional parts, I’d sell to them at a lower price than if they insisted on buying from my inventory. For the shops that agreed, I used a markup price of about 15% more than what I paid wholesale. For stores that waited until they saw products, I’d tack on an additional 10%. That is how I financed the company for the next year and a half.

It wasn’t always easy. I insisted that the stores pay COD, because I didn’t have extra money. One time a $1,000 check from a store near San Francisco bounced. When I called the owner about it, he gave me some big story about how he’d eventually get around to paying it. I knew he was lying, and he refused to return the merchandise. I sent my roommate up there with a check to buy the shipment I had just sold to the store and then had him cancel my check. I called the owner and said, “That great sale you made? Well, that was my roommate, and now my check has the same value as the one you gave me.”

At that time I was selling to about 25 bike shops, most of them in the Bay Area. In exchange for the pink slip to my trailer, the bank finally gave me my first loan, for $1,500. When I paid that back a few months later, they gave me an additional $10,000.

I lived without a car for five years after I started Specialized, which gave me a lot of time to think and observe how folks ride bikes. I was selling parts to a lot of independent bike-frame builders on the West Coast, and I started to notice their dissatisfaction with tires. The ones we were importing from Italy weren’t very good. They’d have bubbles along the treads and didn’t last. I remember calling the factory to tell them about it, but they told me I was crazy.

One of my friends, Jim Merz, was a framemaker based in Portland, Ore., who cycled from Oregon to Panama every year. I started researching rubber compounds so that I could develop my own tires. When I finally had something that worked for me, I sent it to Merz to test; he must have worn through about 40 tires.

After a year of experimenting, I launched our first product: the Specialized Touring Tire. At first only a couple of my most loyal bike shops bought them. But eventually the tires hit a chord with our customers – they told us the tires rode better than the imported ones. The tire was a breakthrough for us, brandwise. Suddenly we were more than just importers. We were innovators.

Our next big turning point came a few years later, in 1981. I was selling a lot of crank sets and tubing to Marin County framemakers such as Tom Richey, and I noticed that these guys were building bikes that were equipped to handle the rugged trails of Northern California’s foothills. I had never seen anything like them. Intuitively, I knew this mountain bike was going to be the next big thing, a product of a West Coast culture not unlike surfing. Old folks and young kids who watched men ride these bikes had the same reaction – they wanted to try it.

We designed a bike with features that could withstand off-road trails. We named it the Stumpjumper, and it was the first mountain cycle that you could buy in bike stores. It turned out to be a niche-oriented product. Only about five or six of our stores wanted anything to do with it. The rest asked us, “What are you doing with this big kid’s BMX bike? Customers will get hurt on that thing.” Sales were slow until mountain biking finally took off in the mid-1980s.

We continued to launch new tires and bikes. In the early 1990s we had 115 employees and were selling to some 1,500 stores nationwide. But I remember thinking how I didn’t really know what I was doing. I had never had another job and figured the time had come to hire a boss, someone from outside the cycling world who could lead us into the future.

I hired three full-time executives, experts with excellent track records in the consumer products industry. They told me that selling bicycles was no different from marketing basketballs or toothpaste. Rather than focusing on our core customers, Specialized started slapping its name on anything – hastily made bike helmets, water bottles, etc. We spun off a cheaper brand called Full Force, which sold at places such as Costco (COST, Fortune 500). It felt as if we were becoming more of a distributor than a group of artisans.

This sent a horrible message to our customers. By the end of 1996 we had lost about 30% of the bike store business and came within a few hundred dollars of declaring bankruptcy. The new executives left as things got worse, and I was stuck writing mea culpa letters to all the bike dealers, telling them how badly we blew it and outlining the steps we would take to fix our problems. It took about three years to get back on track and regain the business we had lost.

Sales started to stall again a few years later, so I approached someone within the industry whom I admired – Peter Moore, the former creative director at Nike (NKE, Fortune 500) and CEO of Adidas. He was an amateur cyclist, so I mailed him a bike helmet and asked if we could meet.

I flew to Portland, and he told me that I shouldn’t run my company as a salesman. He advised me to compile a small book emphasizing Specialized’s mission and pass it out to each employee. Of all the things I’ve done in my 33 years at the company, this has been the most valuable. I feel that if I got run over while riding my bike tomorrow, the company would continue in a clear direction.

For example, in 2003 we created a line of suspension bikes that sold for about $5,000 each. We heard that two or three of the frames had cracked when customers were riding them in extreme conditions. We could have dealt with the cases one by one, but instead, I recalled the entire line, about 1,500 bikes, because they didn’t meet our standards as defined by the brand book.

We’re still trying to be the best cycling brand in the world. I love what I do, and I will run this company as long as I am able. I want Specialized to be here forever, and we have a plan to accomplish that.

NEW YORK (FORTUNE Small Business) — Fortune Small Business recently sat down with fashion designer Marc Ecko, founder and CEO of Marc Ecko Enterprises, at his Batcave-like headquarters in lower Manhattan. Ecko, 36, told us how he got his burgeoning streetwear empire off the ground. Below are edited highlights from Ecko’s conversation with FSB contributor Jessica Harris; for more, see our video of the interview.

FSB: How did you become exposed to hip hop and graffiti – elements that have influenced your fashion?

Ecko: I grew up in the 1980s, in this really eclectic New Jersey town called Lakewood that had a large population of blacks and Latinos. Hip hop was something you had to go out and find back then – it wasn’t something that found you.

FSB: You went to college planning to become a pharmacist like your father. What changed your mind?

Ecko: I wasn’t happy with the idea of being a pharmacist. I was more passionate about art. And every time I tried to make a business out of art, whether it was airbrushing T-shirts or making custom denim jackets for friends, I felt valid among my peers because they made a big deal out of it.

FSB: What set you apart from your competitors in the fashion world?

Ecko: I had a rich education around graphic design and illustration, even though it was kind of a street education. Today, I consider myself less a traditional designer in the ‘Mr. Armani, Mr. Klein’ sense of the word and more of a curator. I have good chops at embellishing an item. I know how to apply art and illustration and give a context to core fashion foundation pieces that gives them a different energy.

FSB: What was the hardest part of getting off the ground?

Ecko: Probably learning to fully understand the word “independent.” When [you launch a company] you start signing your name to things that commit you fiscally and legally.

FSB: You were capital-constrained in the early days. How did you pay the bills?

Ecko: Credit cards, credit cards, credit cards. [Plus], I learned that the barcodes at the bottom of a check are actually magnetic, so if you wet them down you could slow the bank’s ability to cash the check. You could buy 15, sometimes 20 additional terms that way.

FSB: A few years after you started your company, you almost went bankrupt. How did you turn yourself around?

Ecko: It helped that the streetwear space started to get validation. We also put more emphasis on merchandising. I was good at [stuff like] graphic T-shirts and fleece. We started to study the sales reports: “Hey, you did that well, the consumer liked it and they reordered.” Or you might have loved that piece there, you might have been emotional about it and thought it was the greatest piece of design [ever], but guess what, they hated it.

FSB: Tell me about Marc Ecko Cut and Sew, your new line.

Ecko: It’s an extension of my brand. If you grew up on Ecko Unlimited then you can relate to Cut and Sew. Ecko Unlimited appeals to a slightly younger demographic. Cut and Sew is an older demographic, slightly more dressed up but still casual and still richly embellished.

FSB: Your company mascot is a rhinoceros. How did you come up with that?

Ecko: My dad had a collection of wooden rhino sculptures that I used to play with as a kid. Later on I had a line of 25 T-shirts in the range and one of them carried our rhino logo. I remember buyers saying, “What are you trying to say? Is this some kind of wannabee Timberland (TBL) thing?” But the consumer responded and validated the rhino so i started using it more and more. I wanted a logo mark, not just a word mark. I knew that if I could take all the lifestyle stuff that I embody and sublimate it onto this creature, it would be a recipe for success

O economista Gilberto Girardi, de 44 anos, vive uma situação que está se tornando comum entre empreendedores bem-sucedidos. Girardi tem carteira de trabalho assinada e recebe salário para dirigir a empresa que ele mesmo fundou. Vinte anos atrás, vínculo empregatício era tudo que Girardi não queria — ele havia pedido demissão da Unilever para montar um negócio próprio. Com esse começo típico de tantas pequenas e médias empresas, a Próxima, uma companhia de softwares para a agroindústria, situada em Assis, no interior de São Paulo, prosperou. Em 2006, quando a empresa faturava 4,5 milhões de reais por ano, Girardi foi procurado por executivos da catarinense Datasul, uma das líderes do mercado brasileiro de softwares. Os emissários fizeram uma oferta pela Próxima, acompanhada de uma exigência — Girardi comandaria o negócio por mais dois anos, como executivo da Datasul. A venda, por 8 milhões de reais, aconteceu no ano passado. “O Girardi continua sendo o empreendedor à frente da Próxima”, diz Paulo Caputo, diretor de desenvolvimento de negócios da Datasul. “Ele sabe tudo desse mercado e é o grande responsável por expandir uma área estratégica.”

No cargo de diretor de operações de agroindústria, Girardi tem acima dele apenas o presidente executivo, Jorge Steffens, e o conselho de administração. Sua função é comandar toda a parte da Datasul voltada para o agronegócio, como desenvolver novos produtos, aumentar receitas e garantir um pós-venda bem-feito. Dependendo dos resultados da unidade, Girardi pode receber, segundo headhunters, algo em torno de 450 000 reais por ano — sem contar a perspectiva de enriquecer com as ações recebidas por ocasião das negociações. “Os desafios de empreender não acabaram”, diz Girardi. Na verdade, estão apenas começando. Sua missão poderá incluir, daqui a algum tempo, a gestão de outras pequenas ou médias empresas do setor. “Estamos prospectando mais empresas de softwares agroindustriais”, diz Caputo. “Girardi vai nos ajudar a escolher qual comprar.”

Preste atenção: Caputo disse que Girardi vai “ajudar”. A decisão sobre o futuro da nova Próxima não cabe a seu fundador — e está aí uma senhora diferença. Para um empreendedor co mo Girardi, que podia dar a palavra final em tudo, não é uma mudança trivial. No caso da Datasul, cujo capital é aberto, uma decisão importante como a de comprar outra empresa precisa ser submetida à aprovação dos principais executivos e do conselho. “Tive de me adaptar a esse tipo de mudança”, afirma Girardi. A adaptação incluiu aspectos que para quem vê de fora podem parecer meros detalhes — mas não são para quem os vive. Ficou mais complicado, por exemplo, comprar papel para impressora. “Antes, bastava entrar numa papelaria”, diz ele. Agora, é preciso primeiro cotar preços em três lojas. “Coisas assim me incomodaram”, diz Girardi. “No início, cheguei a me questionar se tinha agido certo ao vender a empresa.”

Ao mesmo tempo, sua criação ganhou outro fôlego. “A Próxima vive uma fase nova, e eu estou feliz com isso”, diz Girardi. Muitos clientes também. “Antes, o pessoal da Próxima me procurava uma vez a cada seis meses para apresentar novidades”, afirma Sebastião Carlos Marques, coordenador de tecnologia da informação da usina Santa Cruz, que produz açúcar no interior de São Paulo. “Agora, os contatos acontecem a cada dois meses, o que nos deixa mais atualizados.”

Um balanço do próprio Girardi diz que a venda foi correta, sim. “O setor está se consolidando, e é normal que empresas menores sejam assediadas pelas maiores”, diz. Antes de assinar a papelada, Girardi reuniu seus principais funcionários num hotel à beira de um rio no interior de São Paulo. No encontro, juntou-se um punhado de boas razões em favor da venda. Uma delas: a disputa por bons profissionais estava acirrada demais. “Concorríamos com gigantes como Oracle e SAP”, diz Girardi. Outra: sem altos investimentos, seria muito difícil, quase impossível, manter um ritmo acelerado de inovação nos anos seguintes. “Seria ótimo contar com os recursos de uma empresa capitalizada como a Datasul”, diz Girardi. “Percebi que meus argumentos contrários à venda eram emocionais.”

Girardi cumpriu quase metade do período requerido pela Datasul. Nesse tempo, houve coisas boas, como a comprovação de que a venda fazia todo o sentido. E outras não tão boas, como um ou outro momento de arrependimento. Do ponto de vista pessoal, valeu a pena? Pergunte ao próprio Girardi o que ele deseja para si quando o prazo de carência acabar e ele estiver livre para o que bem entender — pedir demissão, vender sua parte na Datasul, montar uma pousada na praia ou qualquer outro negócio. “Não vou ficar os 48 meses, não”, diz Girardi. “Quero ficar por mais 48 anos.”

by ExamePME

According to Opinion Research (IUSA) in Princeton, N.J., a firm that has conducted research for about 60 years, what annoys employees more than anything else is poor communication. And unhappy employees can do more damage to your business than you might imagine. Opinion Research practice director Terry Reilly says that beyond delivering shoddy customer service, disgruntled employees are less likely to recommend your company as a great place to work, which will hurt recruitment efforts. Reilly says communication can be the Achilles’ heel of your organization or it can be the centerpiece. Here’s what Reilly recommends to improve communication between management and employees.

Solicit opinions. One out of three U.S employees does not believe his or her opinions are taken into account, according to surveys by Opinion Research. Reilly says employees who feel they are fed information instead of being allowed to participate in the organization’s activities report higher levels of disengagement.

In my own interviews with inspiring leaders, it has been clear the old command and control style of communication is over. Today’s employees, especially younger workers, want to know their opinions are encouraged, valued, and respected.

Communicate change. In a November, 2007, survey, Opinion Research found employees are annoyed by managers who fail to discuss company news. In these uncertain economic times, change is constant. Reilly says if you know a change is coming, communicate the reason behind the change. Better yet, ask employees for their views on how best to implement needed changes. This creates a positive feeling in the workplace, even if the changes are not welcomed by all. The reverse is also true. Failing to communicate upcoming changes results in a negative perception, creates disengagement, and makes those changes tougher to embrace when they’re implemented.

This reminds me of a conversation I had with Ritz-Carlton President Simon Cooper. Before the hotel chain underwent a dramatic change in the way employees were instructed to interact with guests, Cooper and senior managers embarked on a tour of the luxury chain’s properties to explain why the change was needed and to elicit opinions from frontline staff. The result was buy-in from employees who were affected by the change and expected to provide top-notch service.

In a recent BusinessWeek column (BusinessWeek.com, 4/24/08) former GE (GE) CEO Jack Welch advocates the need for transparency when communicating change. Welch writes: “Most managers know from experience that employees get more pumped when they understand where the company is going, why, and what role they play in getting there.” Explain the reasons behind your changes.

Include employees in feedback loop. Companies often take surveys of customers via the Web, over the phone, or with a suggestion box near the front door. Reilly has discovered that little of this information makes it way back to the people who actually do the selling. All companies need feedback on how their products are perceived in the marketplace, but if you don’t communicate the results to the people who represent the brand, there’s little chance they’ll implement the necessary changes.

Make communication personal. The more important the issue, the more vital it is to communicate the ideas personally. Reilly says too many important issues are relegated to e-mail and therefore lost in the deluge that most of us find in our inboxes. Many managers don’t want to take the time to walk down the hall and visit an employee in person, but that means they lose out on making an impression on employees. Reilly says personal contact does not have to happen daily, but you should make it a point to address larger issues at least once a week. Small staff or one-on-one meetings, brown bag lunches, blogs, even videotaped messages are all more personal than e-mail.

Finally, instead of trying to guess whether you’re communicating enough with your staff, Reilly recommends you ask employees: “Are you getting enough information to do your jobs effectively?” Then be sure to pay attention to the answers.

Carmine Gallo, a business communications coach and Emmy-Award winning former TV journalist, is the author of Fire Them Up! and 10 Simple Secrets of the World’s Greatest Business Communicators. He writes his communications column every week.

By BusinessWeek