A few weeks ago, the CEO of McDonald’s appeared in a video sampling the chain’s new “Big Arch burger”. In the clip, Chris Kempczinski, or “Chris K” as he casually calls himself, labelled it a “product”, matching the sterile tone of the review – all harsh lighting, corporate office backdrop and an awkward man talking and eating while wearing a shirt fitting uneasily under a light wool V-neck.
Why would McDonald’s, with its huge marketing budget and commercial success, choose to platform this guy? His stilted efforts were mocked and memed, with executives at Burger King and Wendy’s posting their own versions – what fun. Inevitably some market watchers claimed it drove engagement and sales. But to me, it seems to be just the latest flagrant example of CEOism: when CEOs/founders/heads of organisations centre themselves in the action – just because they can.
Chris K isn’t the only one guilty of it. Lately, you can’t seem to move for reports that CEOs are pushing themselves into the spotlight. During the Super Bowl, the founder of Ring featured in the company’s ad – only for the whole thing to backfire when people were freaked out by the dystopian surveillance the doorbell tech was espousing. Which then forced him to go on an “apology tour”, therefore remaining at the heart of the story.
Strains of this can also be found in the sporting world. Perhaps the most prominent example is Fifa president, Gianni Infantino, who after more than 10 years in the post continues to insert himself into the game. At the last World Cup in Qatar, Infantino interrupted the start of the tournament’s first match to give a welcoming address from the stands. Ahead of last year’s Club World Cup, he unveiled the official sticker album, which even featured one for the man himself nestled in among the players. Things reached an apogee in December at the draw for the upcoming World Cup, when Infantino plastered himself all over the ceremony and unilaterally awarded Donald Trump the first annual Fifa award for outstanding achievement in the field of peace.
Obviously not all of this is new – we’re forever facing recurring waves of CEOism. Wealthy “business leaders” will always be over-indulged and provided ample airtime. Steve Jobs, Richard Branson and others were household names years before the current crop. It’s not always entirely unedifying: back in the 70s, businessman Victor Kiam claimed to like the Remington shaver so much he bought the company, creating a long-running ad and catchphrase in the process.
So why does this seem so noticeable now? Naturally there is a push for companies to be seen as more relatable and approachable, which could explain why CEOs want to centre themselves in advertising. Or, as in the case of AI companies, to explain why they aren’t evil (while usually sounding even more evil in the process). But particularly since the beginning of Trump’s second term, there is also a sense that the boss class feels emboldened. In the previous decade, bosses at least tried to give the impression that they listened to their employees; that they were all partners in the company. Now it seems like they think that everyone else should shut up and listen. We have billionaire CEOs sounding off about fertility rates, supporting a technological arms race, or creepily struggling to say if they want the human race to survive. Jim Ratcliffe pronounces falsehoods about immigrants “colonising” the UK.
I am unmoved. Years back, one of my favourite local pubs in London was afflicted with terrible bar staff. Lines of customers would grow three deep at the counter while the few serving would chat among themselves and slowly pour an occasional pint. The staff was made up of good looking young people, so a friend and I joked that it was as if they thought the mass of people arrayed ahead were there just to admire them, rather than to be served. I fear CEOs see the world similarly: mistaking interest in what they’re selling with interest in the people themselves.
And yet a deeper fear lingers: maybe I’m wrong about all this. Or simply going against the prevailing tide. Social media marketers say that audiences want to hear from the people involved in brands and not merely have products shovelled at them. The Diary of a CEO podcast has been running successfully for years. “High performance” guff is everywhere. Perhaps my “learnings” should be that people actually like this stuff.
Call me out of touch, washed, an unc, but I just long for a (perhaps mythic) time when CEOs droned on about Ebitda and the rest of us could happily ignore them.