Frankly, You Do Give a Damn. And Here's How to Show it
from
March/April 2007
by Don Morrison
Board members, like other humans, crave recognition. But the kind that involves getting one’s face on a postage stamp has long carried a daunting requirement: You had to have been dead for at least 10 years. Happily, the U.S. Postal Service has lowered that barrier. Effective January 1, only five years’ experience as a corpse is required. You still cannot nominate yourself, of course, but you can lobby the Postal Service in support of someone else. Thus, such popular 2002 decedents as Milton Berle, Rosemary Clooney, Sam Snead, and Ted Williams are reported to be in the running for this year’s postal pantheon.
As you compile your own dream team of future frankables, why not consider those whose lives have touched yours directly? We are not talking here about your parents or that inspirational high school coach, admirable as they are, and certainly not the influential Messrs. Sarbanes and Oxley. Instead, let us now praise famous men and women who have made your days as a director richer, fuller, and immeasurably easier. Surely they deserve the posthumous recognition that comes with perforated edges.
Consider, for instance, the secretary who makes sure you get your board books on time and confides to you what the CEO considers truly important. Also where he gets his suits, how much he paid for his ski-resort condo, and what is really going on between him and that knockout in corporate communications. Or the nice lady in accounting who makes sure your board payments arrive promptly. Likewise the whiz in travel who gets you complimentary upgrades and enormous suites, and the kid in tech support who helped you install Wi-Fi at home. Also the chief purser who recognizes you with a smile and a drink every time you fly in for a committee meeting. Ditto the driver who always knows how your home team is doing, what your kids are up to, and how talkative you want to be on the way in from the airport.
Let us also celebrate those who make you look good. For example, the sommelier who treats you as a wine expert in front of your fellow directors. Or the caddie who unobtrusively kicks your ball out of the rough on those board-weekend golf outings. Here’s to the analyst who quietly tells you what’s going on elsewhere in the industry so you can ask intelligent boardroom questions—and to the angry whistleblower who chose to dish the dirt to some other director, thereby sparing you untold headaches. And don’t forget the headhunter who, sensing your growing boredom and restlessness, helped get you this board seat in the first place.
As the job of director becomes increasingly challenging, such unsung, unstamped heroes are more valuable than ever. And more difficult to reward. With few exceptions, they do not actually work for you, or are so far down the food chain that the usual compensation-committee tools of bonuses, options, and deferred comp are unavailable. A kind word never hurts, of course, but clearly these people merit something more. Why not reach out and stamp somebody?
And here’s the sticky little secret about philatelic philanthropy: You don’t have to wait until your honorees are five years gone, or even five minutes. Since 2005 the Postal Service has outsourced some of its stamp-making business, licensing three independent vendors to scan personal photos and turn them into genuine, legal postage stamps. Interested? Try Endicia.com, Stamps.com, or Zazzle.com. You end up paying about $1 for a 39-cent stamp. In this case, you could even arrange to have a stamp made that features yourself.
Of course, the prestige does not quite match that of having an official, USPS-commissioned stamp unveiled with great ceremony and available at all 39,000 of America’s post offices, stations, and branches. But at least you, or your honorees, will be around to enjoy taking a public licking.
