"But people do know that," I countered.
"I bet a lot of them don't, and the ones who do need a firm reminder," Josie said firmly, her pen scratching on the paper. "You have to set the narrative about your company being innovative, cutting-edge, and just plain awesome."
"Our work speaks for itself."
"No," she said. Her dangly earrings chimed softly as she shook her head. "That's not what marketing is. You can't just leave these things to chance. You have to not only set the narrative but dominate it. Svensson PharmaTech needs to foster some goodwill. It will help shareholders, the general public, and government regulators to have more confidence in your company. You absolutely cannot be reactionary and play defense. You must set the narrative. If PharmaTech ever wants to make a risky play or take chances on a new technology, setting up the narrative that your company is cutting-edge and has a record of excellence will mean that a new idea isn't a stupid risk. Actually it's a bold move that will create a new market and make tons of money."
I nodded along as she talked. What she said was simple but brilliant.
"I'd never really thought of marketing that way," I admitted. "I always concentrated on the formulas, products, and logistics."
She huffed. "Most people think marketing doesn't matter, or they assume marketing is facts and figures. But you can't make bold visionary decisions on last quarter's numbers. You have to set the trend. Marketing can grease the tracks, so to speak, and let your vision launch. It's not just pictures and a website. It's everything—the way you talk, the way you dress. It's graphics, photography, and social media. All those elements need to work together to sell the vision and the brand of the company."
"Tara has all that together for us," I said curtly.
"No she doesn't," she snapped, then her tone softened. "Surely you have some visions for the company beyond just making new drugs? While that's important, there are other aspects of the medical industry that would be smart to branch into."
"We are already looking into new market sectors," I admitted. "This is strictly confidential, but we're unveiling a new gene therapy product at a big medical conference next month."
"See?" Josie exclaimed. "That's the type of product you need a real marketing plan behind."
"Tara's working on one."
She snorted.
"The next time I talk to Tara, I'll bring up your ideas," I assured her.
I heard her mumble something.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Are we almost there?"
Throughout the tour of the plant, Josie directed the photographer, chatted with the state and local officials, and all the while, wrangled Henry and made pages of notes. Henry thankfully didn't stray. He stayed glued to Josie the entire tour.
"How did you keep him quiet?" I asked her after the handshaking and photo ops were completed.
"I let him pick the restaurant we're going to," she said, looking guilty.
"I have lunch at the office," I said. Henry's face screwed up like he was going to start yelling. "But since we're out, let's grab lunch," I added quickly.
"Yes," Josie said, pumping her fist. "Free food!"
"Free food!" Henry yelled and laughed.
The restaurant he had chosen was a hip farm-to-table-type place.
"I don't know if Henry's going to like this," I whispered to Josie.
"You should give him a chance. He has opinions."
"What a lovely family!" an older woman exclaimed as she walked by our table. She must have been out with her women's group. I recognized Ida and several other senior citizens from town.
"Your son looks just like both of you," the elderly woman gushed.
"Oh, ah," Josie stammered. "We're not—this is my boss."
The woman's eyebrows rose up into her hair.
