Bringing Down A Satellite

A MERGER that results in the creation of a dynamic financial institution and can boast two in-plant printing sites is a great success story that ends with a thud. I don’t recommend trying to build better in-plants through subtraction and I take comfort in the fact that none of my staff was harmed in the production of this story.

Defying Gravity

“They are going to close you.” my wife said, as I left for work, “I don’t know why you bother to keep taking meetings.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t allow myself to be that pragmatic. I did what I always did when the in-plant was threatened. I knocked on doors, tried to logically prove our value to decision-makers and make our detractors our champions.

The vulnerability to closure for my satellite in-plant in Philadelphia had existed since the mid-80s when Mellon Bank merged with Girard Bank. Mellon had an in-plant at corporate headquarters in Pittsburgh. Did it need another? Our customers thought so and helped launch our in-plant high and temporarily out of range of attack.

What propelled the in-plant to success was a staff that delivered the exceptional on a regular basis. It kept an upward trajectory for more than 20 years. But gravity has an irresistible pull.

As Mellon grew, it added another in-plant printing satellite in Boston. Mellon now had three in-plants, all operating at high capacity. This lofty utopia wasn’t to last.

Insourcing Helps

When Mellon divested itself of retail banking, our local customer base evaporated. Our in-plant in Philadelphia quickly regained some altitude by insourcing the outgoing retail banking and other departments that were leaving. This kept us out of reach for another five years.

Unfortunately, someone’s outside revenue is another’s liability, or so I was told.

With a shrinking recognizable internal customer base, winning business often turned into bitter territorial battles. We would win windfalls of business and the respect of new customers only to be informed that we couldn’t keep it and we shouldn’t have pursued it.

“You are all fighting over the same bone,” my upper management told me.

Number crunched

Unlike standard mathematics that has a way to unravel the secrets of the universe, corporate math doesn’t always add up in a way you like, even when it is correct. It is just hard sometimes to warm to the answers. Numbers are great arbitrators because they are so dispassionate. Numbers are not swayed by ridiculous print deadlines met regularly.

Corporate math lacks the luxury of the full scientific process. Economics subtract time from the equation, so if production numbers aren’t laid side by side with high customer service ratings they are weighed differently.

Did anyone ever wonder how it feels to be number crunched? I’m here to tell you it hurts.

When Bank of New York merged with Mellon Financial, two historical companies became one. Some tough decisions had to be made.

One point of evaluation was whether they needed four in-plant printing sites. Bank of New York had its own in Secaucus, N.J. I knew little about Secaucus since we were still in the “hands off” phase of the merger. Pittsburgh’s site possessed the latest digital and solid offset technology with great corporate clientele. Boston’s operation was a lean, economic operation that regularly churned out tons of digital print. In Philadelphia, we generated the most outside revenue of all the sites, but lacked a significant local internal customer base. Most of our Philadelphia site’s internal business came from Mellon in New York, Georgia and Florida, where we processed critical projects with immediate deadlines. Logically, if we could produce out-of-state work in a timely manner, so could someone else…possibly Pittsburgh or Boston.

With the new Bank of New York Mellon having a very limited presence in Philadelphia, it was easy to do the math. And it made sense.

“They never mention Philadelphia,” I heard nearly in chorus from my staff. It was true. All the internal communication seemed to exclusively focus on bright futures for corporate operations in Pittsburgh, the foundation of Mellon, New York, as in, the Bank of New York and the lucrative Boston area.

I clung to certain facts. Geography never stopped customers from selecting our in-plant site. Philadelphia was closer to New York than the other two Mellon operations and better equipped than Bank of New York’s Secaucus print facility.

Moving numbers

My wife asked me why I continued to pursue business. The answer was easy. I wanted to move numbers. Change them in our favor.

We launched a new marketing plan that focused on local internal clients. With Philadelphia business already coming our way, we targeted a new operations center in Jersey City. The plan, coupled with work around the clock, drop-it-off-ourselves customer service paid off quickly. I suddenly had meetings with top executives I had no right to be talking to. They were enthusiastic about using our services. The shop was filling with new business.

Then the floor went out from under our feet. Literally, the building our operation was in was sold out from under us. The numbers shifted against us again.

I set up more meetings with people I only recognized from our annual report.

Then my manager and his manager told me they were coming in to see me. No agenda was offered.

“They are coming in to close you,” my wife said.

She was right.

Finishing a long run

I arrived at my office to find my managers’ somber faces. They said the decision had been made to close. They were giving me three months notice to stop me from running around gathering work I’d just have to turn down or give away.

Even though I saw the closing coming for years, I was still stunned when it happened. For almost a quarter of a century, our operation had won every battle we’d fought—and we had fought many. They were glorious wins, narrow scraps and grueling campaigns. We battled commercial printers, facilities management providers, copier glut, out-sourcing philosophers and even our decaying orbit as a merged satellite operation to a corporate in-plant. We always strived to be the best, because we had to be. Now it was coming to an end.

The evaluation was fair and the logic was good if a bit theoretic. The Philadelphia and Secaucus in-plant operations would be closed and their clients and equipment distributed to the Boston and Pittsburgh sites. This would strengthen these two hubs if they could meet the customers’ requirements. Even the displacement of our staff was compassionately handled.

The hardest part was turning down the work. I couldn’t do it. Finally, my staff planned an intervention. They were right. It was over.

Lessons learned

Yes, there are lessons to be learned. Quality and customer service were never an issue, but in retrospect, I could have charged an additional 10 percent for rush work. That would have kept the trend chart pointed north.

Offset charges could have also been boosted. With everyone acclimated to the high cost of digital copies, offset would still have been a great bargain, even at a slightly inflated price.

Staff could have been cut, but most of my staff had been with me from the beginning, and I wasn’t going to turn my back on their contributions over the years. We all felt like it was our business. We would all stand or fall together. We were a family—dysfunctional, but a family.

I’d like to thank my staff: Tom O’Shea, Dave Smith, Nancy Hagerty, Fred Glover, Larry Mandell, Diane Lombardo and Ron Stevens for their high level of performance and loyalty throughout the years; Bob Neubauer of In-Plant Graphics magazine for giving me a chance to communicate with other in-plant managers and for being a true friend; Deb Swoboda of IPMA for her support; Girard Bank and Mellon Financial for allowing me to help meet their printing needs for so many years; and Jim McLaughlin of Citizens Bank for offering me a tremendous opportunity after Bank of New York Mellon.

Like Sputnik, we were a satellite that scared a lot of people when we first took off. Our in-plant soared for more than 24 years under Mellon.

Take my advice. Defy gravity.

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Mike Renn is now assistant vice president of Retail Banking for Citizens Bank of Pennsylvania. You can contact him at

malrenn@aol.com