So in some ways for me this was a similar situation to Aspro: popular, low-cost products with mass distribution through grocers, confectioners and tobacconists and with tough and aggressive competition from talented and experienced organizations like Cadbury, Nestlé and Rowntree. But the Mars advertising philosophy, enthusiastically embraced and promoted by Forrest himself, was entirely different from anybody else’s, being incredibly hard-nosed and product-based in comparison with anything I had experienced before. So I had a very steep learning curve amidst some extremely sharp and demanding people, but at last I felt I was where I wanted to be and I relished the stimulating atmosphere.
Mars were based, coincidentally, in the same road and trading estate in Slough where I had worked with Aspro, while Petfoods were at Melton Mowbray in Leicestershire. Both worked to the same unique management philosophy laid down by Forrest Mars: everyone clocked in and out, even the Managing Director; rather than receiving a bonus for being punctual you got less if you were late; only the man at the top had a private office, and his had no door; everyone ate in the same canteen. There were no status perks, no company cars, and no sports and social club.
In addition, Mars executives were not allowed to accept gifts from suppliers – no matter who they were. Jack Wynne-Williams was a very keen shot and used to return from weekends in Suffolk with his Pontiac station wagon full of birds, which his secretary, Mona Fraser, then sent to selected clients and agency people. One day she sent some pheasants to ‘Mac’ McIntosh, the boss at Slough, who returned them with a very nice note, the gist of which was that Mars company policy prevented him from accepting gifts from suppliers, which of course Jack was.
Jack phoned him. ‘My god, Mac, do you think that if I wanted to bribe you I couldn’t do better than a few pheasants?’
‘Of course not, Jack, but you miss the point. If I accept the pheasants from you how could I stop my buyers from accepting a Jaguar?’
The company had a very generous pension scheme and while everyone was threatened with a drop in salary if the company’s turnover decreased by £1 million (it never did), they also got a raise each time it went up by that magical figure. There was an occasion at Petfoods when hitting the next million required a railway container of product to leave the factory limits that day – at a time when no locomotive was available. People just rallied round and pushed it out. Everyone was paid far more for their job than they could get anywhere else and the result was that the Mars companies not only got the best people but kept them. They had a reputation of being heartless hire-and-fire organizations but this wasn’t true. They were awesomely efficient with operating systems way ahead of their time, knew who they wanted and got them, but they were no more ruthless with their people than any other decent organization. Once you were there it was actually quite difficult to leave because you could only do so by getting a job at least two levels higher and that was unlikely.
Knowing this, during my time at Aspro I had applied for a job as Brand Manager at Petfoods and after two long individual interviews with the Personnel Director and Personnel Manager was told to report to the Washington Hotel in London’s Curzon Street – and be prepared to be there for 36 hours. When I arrived I found I was one of the last six of several hundred applicants. After socializing at three meals, more individual interviews, wire puzzles, group discussions, debates and psychological tests which lasted well into the second day, I staggered home. The last thing required of us was to have a 60-minute debate on a subject of our own choosing – ‘But not, Gentlemen, anything religious or political for obvious reasons.’ There was a rather thick Scotsman amongst the six of us who had been opening his mouth and putting his foot in it the whole weekend and, obviously eager to demonstrate his leadership qualities and quick thinking, he leapt in with, ‘I propose that we discuss the significance of the Roman Catholic Church in today’s world.’ As one, hardly believing our luck, the rest of us said, ‘Isn’t that religious?’ So then there were five. One then quietly said, ‘Let’s talk about the pros and cons of capital punishment.’ It was a chap called Neil Faulkner. He was head and shoulders above the rest of us, got the job, had since become the man most likely to succeed at Petfoods and was now my client contact at Melton Mowbray.
The way Mars and Petfoods evolved their advertising was just as challenging as their personnel selection. They were the first in the UK to work to the USP philosophy, which involved intensive research to find out what potential buyers wanted from the product and from that the creation of a Unique Selling Proposition (not Unique Sales Point as so frequently incorrectly described). Hence, among the brands I worked on, ‘PAL – Prolongs Active Lije’, ‘Opal Fruits – Made to make your mouth water’, ‘Liver-rich Lassie gives head to tail health’ and ‘Trill makes budgies bounce with health’. In my broadcasting life after I had left the advertising world, I was constantly described in interviews as the originator of one of the greatest USPs of all time – ‘A Mars a day helps you work, rest and play’ – but I certainly wasn’t, unfortunately!
I was like a fish out of water when I joined Masius. The total billing was less than £5 million but in the years to come it was to rocket to stratospheric levels. I had joined at just the right time but I didn’t realize my good fortune – I was far too busy struggling to keep afloat in this fast-moving organization and trying to give the impression I knew what I was doing: learning the two companies’ very specialized operating procedures, working out how best to cope with their very tough and competent but very human executives and implementing what they wanted, or thought they wanted, inside the agency with the research, art, copy, TV, media and marketing departments. All businesses have their internal rivalries but we had them considerably less than most. We were all working for a benevolent dictator whom we liked and respected. The ‘Grocers of St James’s Square’, as we were sneeringly referred to by a lot of advertising people who were later to eat their words, made dynamic progress but the whole business nearly came to a standstill very soon after I joined it.
At the time, Forrest Mars was trying to get Masius to merge with the Ted Bates advertising agency organization in America, but Mike Masius and Jack Wynne-Williams were steadfastly refusing. Just a few weeks after I had joined we were told that Forrest Mars was coming in on the Saturday morning to collect a pair of shoes that he had had repaired (most people with his income would have bought themselves a new pair but Forrest wasn’t like that) and that we were all to be on parade, sitting to attention at our desks, in case the great man wanted to address us. Which is where I was when my phone rang. It was Jack.
‘Murray, Mr Mars is in reception. Would you bring him to my office?’
There was just one person in Reception – a balding, middle-aged chap wearing a very ordinary blue suit and one of those strange American homburg hats with a wide ribbon and the brim turned up all the way round. This can’t be him, I thought, but there’s no-one else here so it must be.
‘Mr Mars?’
‘Yes, son.’
‘Welcome to Masius, Sir, and do come this way!’
Mr Mars not only collected his shoes but, after again failing to persuade Mike and Jack to merge with Bates, demonstrated his displeasure by announcing that he was going to stop advertising his major cat food brand, Kit-E-Kat, and also transfer the top-selling Spangles to another agency.
Those two brands were vital to us and we were very badly hit but Jack just said, ‘There’s only one way to recover – go out and get more business.’ Which we did, and prospered. The happy ending was that Kit-E-Kat, bereft of advertising support, lost sales heavily and the advertising was restored at an even higher level less than a year later.
An example of how Forrest Mars’ mind worked differently to other people’s was his question about the agency’s very successful use of the world-famous American cowboy film star Hopalong Cassidy to promote Spangles.
‘How much is this guy Cassidy paying us?’ he asked.
‘Er, it’s not like that, Mr Mars, we pay him actually.’