How Brendan Ryan Got His Groove Back

Even now, almost half a year later, J. Brendan Ryan looks as if he might spontaneously combust when he thinks about November 3, 2000. His lanky frame tensing, his dark eyebrows twitching, he says that it's hard to remember a worse day in his professional life. "I'm trying to think of one," he fumes. "You have no idea how upsetting this was."

On that day in November, Ryan, the CEO of ad agency FCB Worldwide, got the news that the company's marquee account, DaimlerChrysler, was being taken over by rival agency BBDO Worldwide, a unit of Omnicom Group. A 20-year relationship with the auto maker was over, taking with it a billion-dollar account and substantial revenues (the Chrysler business constituted 9% of sales made by FCB's parent company, True North Communications). The event was the single most dramatic account loss in the history of advertising -- and it had happened on Ryan's watch.

No matter that it was more about cost cutting than creativity. Chrysler had asked both agencies -- who had shared the business, with BBDO doing mostly Dodge advertising and FCB doing Chrysler and Jeep -- to come up with a pitch explaining why they should be the one left standing. The issue, Chrysler said, was cost. Both agencies pulled out all stops to keep control of the business. But Ryan, a tough-talking New Yorker, says that FCB's pitch also addressed things that Chrysler could do on its end. "FCB indicated that we did not think it was wise to consolidate the business. We thought that the client was better served by two agencies," says Ryan.

Wrong answer? Apparently. Chrysler decided to give the business to BBDO, and Ryan had to pick up the pieces. He still smarts when talking about it. "Fundamentally, the business was purchased," he says. "And that's allowed. But what just truly pisses me off is when people suggest that we lost the account. We did not lose the account. We did a superb job on that account by any measure, and the client chose to go with a holding company that frankly, was making financial decisions that, even today, I'm not sure were terribly good. So there we were."

There they were. In the soup. Yet what is amazing about the setback is what didn't happen. Ryan didn't sink into a defeatist mode, nor did his troops. Clients didn't defect. In fact, FCB rallied to land two major accounts at the end of the year, a continuing consolidation of much of Kraft's global business and a comparable consolidation of Samsung's global business -- which together brought in some $500 million in billings. And with a string of victories in the months beforehand -- Compaq, Taco Bell, Boeing, Avaya Communications, and Kraft's crown jewel, Jell-O -- FCB was able to end 2000 up rather than down.

How did Ryan, a career ad guy who got started working the Stove Top Stuffing account at General Foods, keep it together? Start with the memo, an inspired bit of writing that managed to set just the right tone. Ryan uses global staff memos as a way to motivate the company, but to call those compositions simply "memos" vastly undersells their passion. Dictated into Ryan's omnipresent tape recorder (he says that he can't write fast enough), they are much more. This memo was a call to action.

Dated the Monday after the news came out (Ryan says that he had to calm down first), the memo was equal parts sad, profane, and fighting proud. "The first thing to say is that I am personally terribly disappointed in this decision. That's an understatement," he says, before launching into a spirited defense of the Chrysler team. "Having been in the room, that damn pitch was superb. We didn't lose the pitch!"

Ryan then moved from venting to motivating. He discussed the wins so far that year, as a way of reminding the group that there was still a lot of progress to be made. "Now what about FCB going forward? Does this mean we should all hang our heads, fold our tent, and start holding out tin cups? Shit no! We have a client list that's second to none. And we've just added a whole slew of excellent new ones."

Ryan says that the point wasn't just to soothe egos -- the point was also about being honest about the magnitude of the problem. "There's a fine line in writing those memos. Some companies say, 'Oh well, it wasn't our fault. We did everything perfect. And, oh, it doesn't matter anyway. We're just fine.' Bullshit. People are not that stupid. If they hear those things, they'll say that you're idiots. You've got to fess up that a setback was a kick in the chops. But at the same time, you can't accept that the setback happened because your team is a bunch of blockheads."