Since leaving an industry-leading company after 23 years to forge a new path in the housewares industry, three and a half years have passed, and my view of the industry has changed dramatically. This time has allowed me to challenge many of my previous perspectives while testing some hypotheses about how our industry is evolving in the never-ending chase to connect with our end consumers and continue the development of new products that ultimately motivate the marketplace to keep coming back.

I have come to believe there is an epidemic failure in our industry that starts with most companies not even really understanding what they do or why they do it or how to connect with the end consumer they claim to covet so preciously. It’s an imperfect understanding of the game, and our industry seems to be falling increasingly behind. You’ve probably heard part of that phrase from Simon Sinek’s Ted Talk, and the other part gives homage to a scene from the baseball movie Moneyball.

As I sat down to write this blog and put my thoughts into words, I had so many ideas, thoughts, speaker’s words, and movie clips rolling around in my head that I didn’t know where to start or how to organize the details of what I wanted to say other than opening the dialog of this article with a jarring comment that might entice the reader to read on. Based on my levied allegations, I also understand my words might offend a few in our industry. I will go on to say that challenging the status quo is what makes us better and, ultimately, what propels companies and industries forward.  

In a few words, our industry has grown complacent and tired.

Are our Industry Associations and Trade Shows evolving to keep up with how things are changing? I’m not so sure.

Many companies continue doing the same things they’ve done for 30 years and then wonder why nothing seems to change. I recently read a post on LinkedIn, I don’t know where to give proper credit, but the comment was, “The most expensive seven words ever used in the corporate world: “That’s the way we’ve always done it.” To quote an overused phrase, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly, expecting a different result or outcome.”

With what is happening in the US and global economies today and after two years of unprecedented Industry Growth and High-Fives all around, thanks to the Covid Pandemic, I believe the industry stands on the brink of one of the most significant shake-ups we have ever witnessed. I will speak specifically about the cookware industry as most of my career’s last 30 years have focused on this category. 

The industry’s major players are stagnating in their thought process of changing this handle or that body silhouette. They add a new color, or they do another licensing deal, adding another celebrity name to the endless list that already exists. In the end, the technology remains the same with a few minor adjustments, and the well-embedded mindset of “just spray some coating on another piece of aluminum and the consumer will come” continues to be the mantra that motivates the industry to carry on.  

As I write this, thoughts of the movie Jerry McGuire and the “Mission Statement” roll around in my mind. If you haven’t seen the movie, look up the mission statement clip on YouTube and the repercussions of putting such thoughts on paper. Am I bagging any future hope of a career in the industry I’ve come to love after close to 30 years? Maybe and probably, land with a resounding thud.  

Why is attempting to think differently viewed with such disdain? This is a question I’m not sure I’ll ever know the answer to, but it may lie in another movie clip from Moneyball, “The Boston Job Interview.” 

Thinking Differently: “It’s not just threatening a way of doing business, in their minds, it threatening the game, it’s threatening their livelihoods, it’s threatening their jobs, it’s threatening the way they do things, and every time that happens, whether it’s a government, or a way of doing business, or whatever it is, the people who are holding the reigns, or have their hand on the switch, they go batshit crazy.”

As I consult with companies, I have a questionnaire that I ask to be completed before our initial consultation and engagement. The first question I ask is often a bit off-putting, but when a company defines a strategic approach to entering the US market, I ask, what gives you the right to enter the US Market? This question is often followed with a blank stare and comments like, “we make a nice product” or “what do you mean?”

I respond by saying you are looking to enter a super fragmented industry segment, low tech, and the barriers of entry are low. Currently, industry data shows 30 brands make up the top 80% of the market, with another 30 brands commanding the remaining 20% with less than 1% share each and another 30 brands waiting in the wings trying to gain entry; then there’s you. So, I ask again, “what gives you the right to enter the US market?”

Sometimes my words are viewed as harsh, but I believe we have entered a time when everyone seems more concerned about hurt feelings than asking the tough questions. When millions of dollars are on the line in such business decisions, tough questions must be asked as it could mean the difference between a multimillion-dollar mistake or success. 
In today’s market, me too products no longer have a place, and companies and industry leaders must work harder to find their reason for existing.  

Is it a brand with history or heritage that commands 65% to 70% unaided consumer awareness? Is it a technology vetted through extensive consumer insights that genuinely solves a lingering problem? Maybe it’s not specific to the product you offer; it’s perhaps a problem resolution through your company’s structure that allows you to resolve global supply chain problems or meet extensive consumer needs through state-of-the-art dropship capabilities that sets an unprecedented industry standard in eCommerce.

No matter what makes you unique, different leadership thinking and innovation are the names of the game, and companies must strive to be the fastest, most agile, and most cost-effective.  

Consumers must be brought along on the product development journey with relentless rounds of insight testing for every phase of the product and every feature and benefit. Ensuring every aspect of the complete story adds value. If it doesn’t add value, it must be removed through reverse engineering, dialing in the cost value plan down to the penny. Product Innovation must be relentless, especially when business is challenging. I’ve never understood why most companies’ first reaction when business gets tough is to slow down or even cut investment in innovation, but that is currently happening across the industry.  

I view this as a failure to invest in the future while worrying about today’s stock price first. This is where the real opportunity presents itself to put competitors on their heels or, even better, in the rearview mirror.  

Our industry usually benefits from economic downturns as consumers refocus on the home. These are the times when merchants mostly look for newness and innovation. When things are going well, and business is good, what is the motivation to change? I believe the pandemic covered a lot of industry bad business sins and has exacerbated the situation leaving even more companies unprepared than usual for a business cycle downturn. 

Historically, I’ve seen as much as 45% of aggressive companies’ annual revenue driven by newness and innovation during challenging times. Make no mistake; 2023 is going to be an extremely difficult time.  

You probably sense a mix of passion, concern, and urgency in my words. All feelings I have for our industry. This industry is not just a job opportunity; it’s a lifestyle I’ve loved over a 30-year career. 

What is your plan for the next 12 to 24 months as an industry company or leader? Are you so wrapped up in excess inventory and eroding margins that you have taken your eye off the future?  

You’re probably thinking, what does this guy know? He doesn’t understand our situation. A natural reaction to simply write off a differing view. As previously mentioned, a way to write off a challenge to the status quo with a new way of thinking.

Over the last 30 years, I’ve worked with and built some of the biggest brands in the industry, I’ve faced margin and inventory challenges, and I’ve had to make the hard decisions to downsize workforces affecting livelihoods and careers. I’ve answered to Corporate Boards and Wall Street when things weren’t going as planned. 

The question now is, what will you or your organization do differently in these challenging times?  

If you are looking for a senior leadership executive or a business consultant to challenge the status quo, let’s talk and discuss what we might learn together.  

I wish you all much success and prosperity in finishing 2022 and beginning anew in 2023.

S. Darrin Johnston is a C Suite Management Executive in the housewares industry.

In August of this year, my wife and I celebrated 30 years of marriage. She has humored me and my crazy ambitions and goals and has always been my biggest fan, often telling me on the way out the door on another adventure, “Just make sure the insurance is paid.”

Today, flying into Seattle on business, I was rewarded with an incredible view of Mount Rainier off the left-hand side of our airplane. (Included)

I obsessed for years, as a young man, with Mount Everest and the women and men who climbed the highest mountain in the world. I wanted to learn about these people and what drove them to accomplish such incredible feats. What kind of willpower, mental and physical strength did it require, and where did it come from?

In the ’90s, Scott Fischer and Rob Hall became my heroes, and there was a time when I thought I might actually climb Everest. Scott and Rob, while friends, were locked in a battle to build the first commercial climbing businesses, guiding wealthy clients to the top of the world’s highest peak.

Seattle was the center of the climbing universe in the US at that point, where Scott Fischer resided. Rob Hall was from New Zealand. Unfortunately, both of these incredible men lost their lives on Everest in May of 1996, which remains one of the most deadly and tragic seasons on the mountain to date.

At that point, I had never been to Seattle, but Scott had sparked my interest, and I began to research the Northwest and the men who made this part of our country home.

Around 2004 or 2005, I read a book by Ed Viesturs called “No Shortcuts To The Top, Climbing The World’s 14 Highest Peaks.” Ed was and remains a resident of Bainbridge Island and had climbed all 14 of the 8,000-meter mountains in the world without supplemental oxygen. 

Ed was a part-time guide on Mount Rainier with a company called Rainier Mountaineering. Rainier is 14,411 feet and is the highest mountain in Washington State. It was also the mountain where most serious US climbers trained, and at that moment, my next adventure was set.

I began training, and after a summer and winter of cardio work and strength training, I felt ready. 

On the flight into Seattle, I had no idea what I had taken on. The pilot mentioned that we would have a great view of Mt. Rainier off the left side of the plane, and I began scanning the mountains below to catch a glimpse of the tiger I had come to tame. 

Suddenly, there it was, only it wasn’t below the airplane; it was higher than the altitude we were flying. I had to look up at the top of the mountain from my window view.

An immediate knot formed in my stomach. What was I thinking? Suddenly, my excitement turned to panic in a moment. It’s too late to back out now, big boy!!

I spent four days on the mountain with knots in my stomach, not eating, not sleeping, and a headache that made my forehead feel like it would split at any moment. 

In a matter of two days, the mountain chewed me up and spit me out. At 12,000 feet, I knew I was cooked. I wouldn’t have the strength to get down if I didn’t stop. My dream ended abruptly at two thousand four hundred eleven feet below the summit. 

Mountaineering is unique because reaching the summit is the goal, but it’s only one part of the accomplishment, not necessarily the most important. You must still get down safely, which requires strength and mental capacity. Often, coming down is more complicated than the climb because you are exhausted, and decision-making can be questionable.

I sat and waited for my climbing team to return, rope me back in, and take me down. I had 5 hours to sit and wait, looking back toward Seattle, contemplating that this could have been the dumbest idea I had ever had. Great, another failure!! We returned to our lower camp on Emmons Glacier for the night and would complete the climb down the next day. 

I spent one of the most brutal evenings ever with my 11-member climbing team while they celebrated their accomplishment, and I considered what I could have done better to be more prepared. When we returned to Ashford the next day, I packed up quickly, said a few empty goodbyes, and left. I couldn’t get off that mountain fast enough and never wanted to see it again.

I spent the next year wanting to avoid talking about it to anyone. I had built it up with my family, friends, and co-workers, and I wanted to crawl under a rock when I had to come home and tell them all I had failed.

Gradually, over the next year, it got easier to talk about. I came to terms with my demons, and a thought began to grow, “Why couldn’t I go back?”

Not long after, I taped a photo of Mt. Rainier to my bathroom mirror, so I had to look at it every morning while I got ready for work. I looked at that photo for four years. Gradually, I started training, but this time, I knew what it felt like and what I needed to do. A small mountain near our home, Yonah Mountain, 3,166 feet high, became my weekly pastime. Every Saturday and Sunday, I was on the mountain, hiking the trail from the parking lot to the top, 2.3 miles and 1500 feet of elevation gain.

Four years later, I was ready. I was up and down Yonah 4 times every Saturday in my altitude boots with a 70-pound pack on my back.

I came back to Seattle and had the same view out the window from the airplane, this time looking at the mountain like a dragon I had to slay.

I arrived back in Ashford 4 years later, ready to complete the unfinished business. This time, I was one of the strongest climbers on the team.

We left our high camp, Camp Sherman, at 9,500 feet at 1:00 AM and started our summit bid. It’s safest to climb at night on the glaciers as everything is frozen solid, and there is less risk of seracs and cornices breaking or ice bridges over crevasses collapsing while frozen. Also, climbing with only a headlamp light in this environment is extremely intimidating. We reached the summit 14,411 feet at 7:15 AM, 6 hours after starting our summit bid. We had started our climb at an elevation below 3,500 feet and, in 48 hours, had climbed two vertical miles straight up.

We spent about 45 minutes on top, took photos, signed the summit book, headed for Camp Sherman, and arrived just after 11:00 AM. We completed the round trip in 11 hours. Four years later, my goal was realized.

The icing on the cake was that after four years, I was teamed with the same guide I had climbed with four years earlier, Casey Grom. Casey was small but had a diesel engine in his chest. The guy could strap on a hundred pounds and climb like he was out for a casual stroll. He was amazing to watch, but even more importantly, he remembered me, and this time, I wouldn’t let him down.

He and I summited that morning together. It was his 413th summit of Rainier and my first. Casey had climbed all over the world and, at that point, had climbed Everest 4 times and had just completed his first summit. Casey celebrated with me as if we had just climbed Everest. He was so excited for me and treated me as if it was his biggest climbing accomplishment. As we stood there on top, looking at the incredible view. He looked at me and said, “You did this; you never gave up. You didn’t let it beat you; you came back, and you came back stronger than ever. Well done, my friend, well done!!!

Without question, failure makes us stronger. I heard a quote once: “We are all a little stronger in the broken places.” 

Failure can bring some of the darkest days in life, but having the strength to never give up can bring some of life’s greatest treasures. 

“Never, never, never, never-in nothing, great or small, large or petty-never give in, except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never yield to force. Never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.” Winston Churchill

I would like to open up a dialog concerning a topic I’ve had on my mind for a few months: How late in a career is it too late to go back to school for an MBA or an Executive MBA?

An EMBA is a personal topic I’ve pondered for a few years. I regretted not doing this when I was younger, but I didn’t have the means or access to more elite schools that I do now. I was also raised in a family that was extremely risk and debt-averse. 

I’m now ten years away from the average retirement age in the US, and I have the means and the access to schools thanks to a fulfilling career in the Housewares Industry.

Many of you also know me to be a person who is rarely satisfied while also approaching everything I do with a high level of commitment, motivation, and drive. While most see the last years of a career as a way to walk off into the sunset, these years scare me. They scare me because I’ve never been one to stop pushing forward. 

I’ve battled my relentlessness over the years when I have navigated stages in life where I’ve become bogged down, and I don’t feel as though I am making progress or moving forward.

I’m always driven to improve my knowledge base while adding skills. This drive is something I have always shared with my teams, especially when I was Managing Meyer Corporation US. When looking for promotions, I used to tell my team that they shouldn’t sit and wait for an opportunity to come by. 

I pushed them that they should always be working to improve their resume and themselves by learning skills like public speaking or negotiation. I pressed them that getting a promotion was not just sitting by, waiting, and hoping for the best, but waiting with the best possible preparation for the next level and waiting as complete and ready as possible to sell themselves on why they would be the best choice. It is a relentless pursuit that never ends, no matter your age.

With that, I come back to the topic of how late is too late to continue an MBA or EMBA and what do you collectively believe the benefits can be at this phase of a career?

I’ve been looking into schools and have narrowed my potential list to two EMBA programs in the top ten in the US because I want more than just the degree; I want it from the right institution that will carry weight. Would this add weight to an Executive CV with thirty years of experience?

Another point that must also be considered is the return on investment. While younger executives can see a significant jump in salary, I would not expect this to significantly affect my salary. Where I see the return for myself is the long game.

There is no way I see myself just walking away into retirement, and Adjunct work at the college level could be an incredibly rewarding sunset on a successful career. Over the last five years, I have had opportunities to lecture at the University of Georgia, the University of Virginia, and a few other smaller schools. Working with students to share knowledge and experience has been extremely gratifying.

Back to the question: How late in a career is it too late to consider an EMBA/MBA? 

Please keep all debates respectful of each other but keep them brutally honest in their thoughts and opinions. Thanks in advance to all who take time to consider the question.

S. Darrin Johnston is a C Suite Management Executive in the housewares industry.