A Cascadian river with islets

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Why marketing problems are often systems problems

Conversations about marketing problems almost always start with a tactic. The website feels weak, lead generation has slowed, sales wants more support, or paid campaigns produce results nobody can predict from one month to the next. Each of those observations is usually accurate, and each comes with an obvious fix, whether that’s a redesign or a new agency. What the observations rarely explain is why the problems tend to arrive together, at roughly the same point in a company’s growth.

My view is that past a certain stage, most of them are symptoms of one condition. Marketing has become a system, and a system behaves differently from a collection of tactics. Effort and talent can both be present in quantity while the system underneath them pulls in several directions at once, which is why replacing a tactic so often leaves the underlying problem where it was.

When marketing turns into a system

Early on, marketing runs on intuition, and that’s workable. A founder who knows the product better than anyone can explain it in a sales conversation, and customers arrive through relationships and reputation. Growth changes the arithmetic. The company adds products and channels, and customer expectations shift as the customer base widens. Somewhere in that expansion, the founder’s explanation stops reaching everyone who needs it.

What tends to follow is a familiar pattern, drawn from no single company. Sales starts hearing an objection that the marketing materials never address. The product team ships a feature and struggles to say why it matters to anyone outside the building. Campaigns keep producing activity, and the activity doesn’t add up to momentum. Taken one at a time, each looks like a tactical gap with a tactical fix, and the fixes get assigned to different people. Taken together, they describe functions working from different pictures of the same market.

Marketing sits between the other functions

I think of marketing as the function that connects the others, which is a larger job than communications. It turns what the product can do into something the market understands, and it keeps sales conversations attached to the company’s larger story. When those connections weaken, each department develops its own reading of the market, with its own vocabulary and its own priorities. None of those readings is necessarily wrong, and each is defensible on its own terms. Over time they pull the organization apart anyway, slowly enough that nobody can point to the week it happened.

Where the fix starts

The fix starts with understanding how the system runs now: which customers respond most strongly, where the company consistently wins, where sales stalls and what expectations buyers bring to the first conversation. The answers usually point somewhere specific, such as a segment that responds more strongly than the rest or a problem that lands harder than the others. That is the company’s market wedge. Once it’s defined clearly, messaging and sales have something to organize around, and investment decisions get easier to argue.

Strategy and execution often get treated as separate stages at this point, and the separation does damage. Strategy decides where to focus; execution turns that focus into campaigns and customer conversations. Each improves the other when they stay connected, because strategy gets corrected by what the market does with the execution, and execution gets sharper when it rests on a clear position. Much of the value of marketing leadership lies in keeping the work pointed in one direction, which matters more than the volume of work produced.

Who holds it together

As a company grows, somebody has to hold the system together. Depending on the stage, that might be a full-time CMO or a fractional CMO, and the cost and trade-offs between the two depend on the company more than the title. The job itself is keeping the organization’s understanding of its market coherent. That means listening to sales conversations and following product decisions closely enough to turn what they reveal into direction.

The harder question is why companies keep reaching for tactical fixes after the pattern is visible. Part of the answer is that a tactical fix can be assigned and finished within a quarter, while a systems fix asks several departments to give up a version of the market they’ve been working from for years. That trade has an organizational cost that never appears in a marketing budget, and it’s rarely clear who in the company is supposed to pay it.

Sound familiar?

If it does, a short conversation is usually the fastest way to tell whether there’s a fit.

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