I need to reach the CEO of Tyson. He’s really confused. At 3:41 Eastern Daylight Time, on June 12, 2007, I passed a Tyson truck on westbound I-74 heading into Indianapolis. Nothing unusual there. I noted the Tyson corporate tagline on the side of the truck: “It’s what your FAMILY deserves.” I’m not sure every member of my family deserves good chicken, but I’ll buy the notion that I do. The tagline isn’t objectionable.
But as I came around to the front of the truck, said truck informed me Tyson is “A Partner in the Fight Against Hunger.” Good Lord. What’s wrong with these people? What does Tyson sell? Chicken. What is that? Food. Who eats food? Hungry people! If Tyson gets rid of hunger, no one will eat their chicken. Geez.
Unless…do you suppose they’re talking about hunger of the starving-to-death variety? Sally Struthers stuff? (Not that this applies to Sally personally at all. Have you seen her lately?) All right then. I don’t want anyone starving to death. And if Tyson is going to send a bunch of free chicken to Ethiopia, well, I just hope it gets farther than the grain they raised at Live Aid that never made it past the docks because the government impounded it (although I doubt it will). And if Tyson wants to raise the price of chicken breasts to $1.59 a pound to make up for the free chicken it sent to sit on the docks in Ethiopia, not a problem for me. There are other brands I can buy.
But shouldn’t I want to buy the brand that fights hunger? Won’t that make me feel better about my choice as a consumer?
I have a funny attitude about corporate philanthropy. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat around with a bunch of fellow CEOs—at the country club, in the cigar lounge, in the secret halls of power…ah, you wouldn’t understand—and heard them talk about how they felt obligated to “give something back.”
Back…to whom? Did you take something? Is this like not returning a library book for 30 years and then noticing it one day in the basement and thinking to yourself, “Oh s***”?
Somewhere along the line, people got two crazy ideas. Crazy idea #1: Businesses should solve all the world’s problems, because businesses are nothing more than vats full of cash extending as far as the eye can see. Need money? Get a corporate donation! They have the money! Besides, they just write it off anyway! Crazy idea #2: Businesses have all this cash because they apparently took it, and if they have a decent philosophy at all, they should give it back.
You ever take someone’s hat on the playground? Hey! Give it back!
I can understand why a lot of people believe these ideas. A lot of people are real lamebrains. What I can’t understand is why so many CEOs believe it. Fact is, I don’t think they really do. I think they’re just afraid to say they don’t—even when they’re in the company of other CEOs.
CEOs know they may take in a lot of money. But most of them spend almost all of it on business expenses—and the ones who don’t usually reinvest it in things designed to make the business grow. There’s not a trap door in the CEO’s office that leads to the cash cellar. I think a lot of well-meaning, naïve, do-gooder types think there is.
“Come see!” says the fanciful CEO who exists in their imaginations. “When we raise prices, we put the extra money in here! This corridor is where we stash the 50s! You want one? Just kidding, son! I’m not giving you any of my money! This is a business! Straighten your shirt, boy!”
CEOs also know that whatever money they have didn’t arrive as a result of it being “taken” from the community. Businesses get money because they provide goods and services that people want, and people make a decision that they would rather have the goods and services than the money. Granted, there may be some things you buy because a third party forces you (car insurance, license tabs), but generally speaking, it’s the government that’s forcing your hand there. Businesses don’t take your money unless you decide to give it to them. They certainly aren’t obligated to give anything back to you.
So when activist types go to CEOs and talk to them about how important it is to “give something back,” why don’t the CEOs tell them to take a business course and get some semblance of a clue?
Fear. At some point since you became a CEO, you realized you were never going to conquer this misperception, and it hardly seemed worth the trouble to try. So when someone tells you to give something back, instead of proudly standing up for the value you’ve provided to your markets, you shrug and ask where to send the check.
Pretty soon, PR people are showing up telling you how to make your corporate giving “strategic,” which means that if you give this much to this group, you can get this much publicity and keep that group of activists off your back.
Sometimes you “give back” because you’re being extorted. If Jesse Jackson shows up at your office wanting a contribution, your motivation isn’t what he’ll do for you. It’s what you hope he won’t do to you.
Thus, we have Tyson enlisting as a general in the “fight against hunger,” when a company like Tyson really needs all the hungry people it can get. But not as much—or so its marketers think—as it needs to appear as one of those benevolent corporations that care, make a difference and give back!
I used to do business with a bank, and I once asked my contact there if she’d be willing to pay in advance for some services. Did she think the bank could swing that? “D.F., we’re a bank. We’re made of money.”
Now that was a good answer.
Yes, banks are made of money. But most businesses aren’t. They also aren’t structured to fight hunger, cure cancer or save the world. They exist to make what they make and sell it to people who willingly give up their money in order to get whatever it is.
If you’re a customer of a business that’s trying to fight hunger, you might question whether they really have their eye on the ball with respect to whatever you’re paying them to do.
So am I suggesting businesses shouldn’t get involved in the support of charities and causes? Yes! It’s not why they exist! Am I heartless? Am I cruel? No. But I am rather hungry. And I don’t see Tyson doing anything about it.
Ironic, isn’t it?
