As a longtime reader of The New Yorker, I knew my subscription was running out last fall when I started receiving renewal offers via email and snail mail. But the offers themselves were all over the map: from about $47 a year to $59.95, and then even a jaw-dropping $69.95—and one of the higher offers actually dared to call itself a “preferred subscriber rate.”

I was more than a little flummoxed (read: peeved), and when I called to ask for an explanation, the operator would only say that she could match any offer I had received or seen. I quickly pounced, and ponied up for another three years at the lowest rate a new subscriber could be offered (brand / reader loyalty won out over extreme annoyance).

But the whole experience left a bad taste in my mouth. It was as if they were playing a game of chicken, hoping for subscribers who wouldn’t question, or who weren’t really paying attention.

Then along came my friends at Comcast / Xfinity. After my two-year agreement for a services bundle (cable, internet and phone) ended, the price shot up more than 35%. I knew it would go up somewhat, and inertia briefly set in. But after a month or so, my blood started to boil—and I dialed to initiate the first of about six long, frustrating phone calls.

Experience has taught me that when calling customer service, one should always take notes with names, dates, etc. Especially when what followed amounted to a series of false promises, misinformation, and long hold times!

Finally (acting on good advice) I threatened to cancel and asked to be transferred to the “account termination” department—whereupon, after rattling off details of all my previous calls that had gone nowhere, I was given a rate even less than what I had originally been paying… with one extra premium channel thrown in!

All of which leads me to the question: Is there any integrity in pricing today? Or is everyone out to scalp the suckers? More importantly, doesn’t this kind of shell game erode loyalty to a brand—no matter how dependent or loyal you are?

Have you had similar experiences? How did you feel the morning after?

At the beginning of the iPad-palooza several months ago, I was intrigued and curious about iBooks—but even then I had a hunch that periodicals would get the most play on the cool new Apple tablet at my side (though I do still yearn to have and to hold newsprint.)

Now, it seems, the more some things have changed, the more they’ve stayed the same. My reading habits are all over the place, and I yearn for some consistency.

A couple of examples:

The Boston Globe, to which I still subscribe daily (yes, the ink on paper version), has announced a new digital strategy that will include a subscription-only pay wall on their website beginning late next year. But right now, Globe readers are in an odd limbo. Read the print edition and—unless you truly are a Luddite—some of it really is old news.

Log onto boston.com and you get news, but you also get what I call “relentless news”: over the last week I’ve seen the story of the new MFA wing in so many iterations on boston.com that I feel a little weary (and there is no bigger fan of the museum than me!).

And last (but not least?) the Globe has something called “GlobeReader”: a digital version of the day’s newspaper viewed using Adobe Air. But don’t go there looking for breaking news: GlobeReader is a digital manifestation of the newspaper, and only updates once a day.

Got all that?

On the glossier side of things, one of my favorite magazines, Esquire, launched what many have praised as one of the best magazine iPad apps with their October issue. It is indeed beautifully constructed, with lots of extra content and nifty visual (and some audio) tricks. But, as of this writing, the digital November issue just appeared… many weeks after the print issue arrived on newsstands.

Talk about keeping your loyal followers hanging after lifting them up! “Where’s my damn November iPad issue, Esquire?” was my refrain for weeks as I’d stare at it forlornly in the bookstores, holding out for the digital version but itching to buy the print issue. Such a strong brand can weather many storms, but loyal readers need to know where and when they can find you… much like I know the Globe will be there to greet me every morning when Moxie and I go out for a walk (though I still have moments of déjà vu when I see the newspaper on my front step with a headline and “news” I read online the night before).

In our practice, we talk a lot about “meeting customers / constituents / followers where they are,” and I think that is the crux of the rock and hard place in which many publishers find themselves. The phrase “loyal readers” speaks volumes about how a brand, such as the Globe or Esquire, must attend to setting, aligning, and meeting expectations.

Many of my other favorite publications have strong, consistent digital presences (Time is a great example on the iPad), but many still don’t really “get it” (The New Yorker still doesn’t give print subscribers a discount on their iPad version). And now, just last week, comes a merger of the old and the new: Newsweek meets The Daily Beast. We’ll see what magic Tina Brown can make of the partnership.

So, where are you in your journey with your must-reads… in print and / or online? Stuck in the middle, like me? (And since mine is such an Apple-centric view, I’d welcome thoughts from Kindle owners.)

Back in 1997, when Bob Dole was just one year removed from his landslide loss to Bill Clinton, we began work on the annual financial report for a local university (hint: they’re across the river and bathed in crimson).

Now, fourteen years later, we’re about to wrap the latest edition of that same report and I’ve been struck by how much things have changed since then… and how much they really haven’t at all.

Back then, I transferred files from a chunky hard drive to a brick-like portable drive (remember Syquest or Bernoulli cartridges?), packaged it up with carefully annotated (black and white) lasers and a few transparencies or 35mm slides to be scanned, and sent it off via a courier or FedEx. And perhaps I did it while listening to Paula Cole’s breakthrough track “Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?”!

Flash forward to 2010: I released a similar set of files a couple of weeks ago, but the collection is now comprised of high-resolution digital files for the images, and just a PDF to reference in place of yesterday’s lasers—all compressed into a ZIP file and uploaded to the printer’s FTP server. And all these bits and bits of bytes were sent in seconds from my desk and laptop, while my Twitter feed was happily purring in the background.

Progress, huh?

Most definitely, but what’s even more interesting are the things that remain consistent about the final product, even fourteen years later. The report is still an elegantly designed, thoughtful book that reflects the values and aesthetic of the organization that publishes it—and still the result of a wonderful relationship with clients who value partnership, collaboration, and trust. It’s a favorite project around here for that reason alone—the opportunity to work with great people.

So much has changed in the way we work—even since last year, much less last decade—so it’s quite reassuring to recognize what has remained the same across the years. The way we do what we do has changed dramatically in so many ways, but what we do, and our commitment to collaborating with mission-driven organizations, certainly hasn’t.

What has changed over the past few years about the way you work? And what remains the same?

And, as a refresher course, back in 1997…

Tiger Woods won his first Master’s Tournament at age 21… The first Harry Potter book was published in the UK… Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith sleuthed around in Men in Black… a gallon of gas cost $1.22 and a movie ticket was $4.50… the New England Patriots lost Super Bowl XXXI to the Green Bay Packers… Woolworths closed its last remaining store after more than 100 years… Ally McBeal began a five-year run on ABC-TV (and was not available On Demand)… Steve Jobs returned to run Apple Computer and Microsoft bought a minority stake in Apple for $150 million… OJ Simpson was found guilt in a civil court… WorldCom and MCI Communications announced the largest merger in history (at the time)… you were probably still dialing up at home… the Dow Jones closed the year at 7908… the UBC Thunderbirds beat the Ottawa Gee-Gees 39-23 in Canada’s university football Vanier Cup.

It’s become a ubiquitous little symbol, and maybe so much so that our eyes pass over it without a thought.

Postcards from the cable company, magazines, catalogs, even your daily newspaper—all likely carry the original recycled mark or the logo of one of the associated advocacy organizations (FSC, SFI, among others). Each has its own unique significance (amount of recycled content, whether it includes post-consumer fiber, if wind power was used in the manufacturing process, etc.).

But what does it mean to you?

We know that a strong, clear brand is one that resonates with your customers and supporters. And if environmental stewardship is important to you, it should be an important message to send to your followers.

I often encourage our clients to include some version of a recycled logo, or even language that spells out things like how many trees have been saved because of the use of recycled paper (talk about a good story to tell!). Sometimes they haven’t necessarily cared about that message themselves, but the reaction they’ve gotten from their constituents makes them sit up and think differently.

How can we, together, make old news new again? The environment is ours to take care of, and we’re all in it together, as they say. Being green is becoming a way of life, despite what Kermit the Frog once said.

Is environmental stewardship important to you? Does it make a difference in your decisions about what to buy, who to support, and who to engage?

In tough times, we often seek to reconnect with and deepen the most positive relationships we’ve developed over the years, in both our personal and professional lives. You want people you trust in your corner when the chips are down… and renewing those bonds provides a source of both comfort and strength.

In that same way, I’ve recently had the great fortune to reconnect with several clients we’ve worked with in the past. Many companies and organizations are facing funding cuts and slow(ing) sales in this economy, but when projects come up, they want to work with people who get what they’re about, and who they trust to provide value when resources are stretched thin.

Each one of these conversations has reinforced how important relationships are in what we do. You can offer a great product or service, but what keeps people coming back again and again is the connection you build with them over time—the shared experiences and vision that trump all else.

I recently had lunch with someone I’d worked with years ago, and our conversation soon turned to a discussion of past projects. But what I quickly noticed was that we were speaking less about the projects than we were about the people.

“She’s such a wonderful designer and always showed tremendous grace under pressure.”

“He is so smart in his approach to design thinking, which raises the bar for everything for us—it makes you think!”

“I always feel respected and listened to, and that is so key to a successful partnership—with anyone.”

“He knows how to listen.”

We didn’t talk about budgets. We didn’t talk about proposals. We didn’t talk about plans.

We talked about people. We talked about relationships. We talked about stuff that would never show up in an estimate… but made all the difference to the success of the project.

What’s underneath is what sustains. There will always be people who can compete with you in terms of offerings, but are they taking the time to care and build a connection?

So, to answer the question in the title over this post, it’s the power of…

Smart, thoughtful approaches to both everyday and extraordinary challenges

Grace under pressure (and a sense of humor never hurts as deadlines loom)

Resourcefulness, accompanied by a sort of fearlessness: the proverbial “whatever it takes” attitude

Comfort in the reality that someone is looking out for your best interests

If, in today’s tweeting, blogging, always-online world, a brand is a mosaic (as my colleague Tamsen has so aptly described)—then isn’t a successful relationship also a mosaic, where different pieces of the puzzle shine at different times, and the whole is truly greater that the sum of its parts?

What is it about the relationships you’ve built over the years that makes them last?

And what do you value the most in those with whom you work?

Several weeks ago, I wrote to ask whether you were going to buy an iPad. And now that I’ve given in to the urge myself, I’m faced with a new version of the question I addressed in my first blog post a year ago: “If print is dead, who killed it?” (in which I argued that it’s NOT dead).

On my honeymoon weekend with my iPad, two books had just been published that I wanted to read, and I was faced with the decision about whether to go to the iBooks store, or the Barnes & Noble down the street.

As a lifelong bibliophile who worked for two publishing houses—and also as one of those snobs who much prefers hardcovers—I was pulled to the hardcover version of one book (the new John Waters memoir, Role Models) because I know it’s a book I’ll want to have (and to hold) for years.

The other, Jonathan Alter’s history of Obama’s first year in office, The Promise, is a book I can live without having on my shelf because once I read it, I’ll likely not have the urge to dive in again.

So, what does this say about how we perceive the value of a printed page… and when it’s exactly what’s needed, versus when an electronic facsimile will do just fine?

What books (and newspapers) are you reading… and how?

Have you given in to the e-reader urge, or are you stuck in (old) school mode (some or all of the time)?

There it was, hanging innocently enough on the wall, offering me a fresh paper towel to dry my hands. But it was the little name plaque on the front that caught my eye: “Advantage Marketing Associates”. It wasn’t until I read the tiny, tiny type underneath that I found out they sell janitorial supplies.

Really?

Realizing that this wasn’t likely a new venue for selling advertising space, I wondered what they thought might be wrong with, say, “Advantage Janitorial Supplies.” Isn’t that more clear and direct? Why did their company name strike such a dissonant chord with me?

Not long ago, we (as a practice) struggled with how we would position ourselves—summing up what we do in just a few words—when we went to market.

We’re no longer just a “graphic design studio” (as we might have happily called ourselves 30 years ago), because we offer much more in the way of services, and bring a much wider and deeper perspective to our—and our clients’—work.

But what could we call ourselves so that people would get it? “Communications firm” says it, but couldn’t that also be applied to a telecommunications provider?

In our case, explaining “who” came along with some of the “what”: we offer brand-focused strategy, design and digital media.

But back to the paper towel. Nothing wrong with, as the Army used to say, trying to be all that you can be—nothing, of course, except for the risk that in reaching so broadly, you lose focus… and fail to break through the clutter.

First impressions matter; that’s why we understand the urge to tell us not only what you do, but how you do it (better), what makes you stand out from the crowd, and why we should care—right off the bat. But if your name needs serious explaining, you could end up never getting the chance to make that explanation.

So “Advantage Marketing Associates”: as a distributor of many products to many markets, it makes a little more sense, but it sure took a while after the initial “doesn’t compute” moment to think through what they might be going for.

Should it have? Is it just me?

What do you want a name to tell you?

And what doesn’t a name need to say?

Apple has released a new product, and I’m of course a little obsessed—but not standing in line yet.

Why not?

I know it has lots of nifty features and fun things it will do, but my sticking point seems to be: Will I honestly read books on an iPad (and/or any e-reader)?

See, I’m a book fella from way back (a lifelong bibliophile who worked for two publishing houses, and also one of those snobs who much prefers hardcovers), so the first time I held an iPad and launched a book, I kept tilting it and flipping it to check out the type on the spine, the specific kind of binding, and I almost held it up to smell the ink on paper.

Therein, my predicament.

A good friend—an academic who has lived and breathed (and written) books her entire life—is about ready to give in and buy a Kindle, but mostly because she’s running out of bookshelf space. But one of her justifications is how e-readers encourage you to indulge your random thoughts and whims. In the mood for a little Shakespeare? Download Hamlet and dive into your favorite soliloquy. Need a good spook? The latest Dennis Lehane is waiting for you.

For me, aside from the first-blush physical considerations (is an e-reader, especially the iPad, too heavy and awkward to hold, and just not the same as holding a real book?), there is the same thing that has held me back from buying all my music online. I want to have and hold a book, just as I’m still intrigued by the magic of an LP cover and especially the liner notes.

To be able to go over to my bookshelf (and music shelf) and pull at random, on a whim—that for me is magical and revolutionary.

So, am I letting the future pass me by if I don’t jump on board now, or soon? While I don’t think the printed book will ever go away, the future is surely full of bytes and I should probably sink my teeth in now or risk feeling like I’m left in the dust.

And how about you?