A story about Cincinnati connector Rob Daly.
The day I meet Rob Daly is one of the first real summer days of the year. Hard to breathe in the car, air conditioner grinding to my will and folks on McMillan pushing along more slowly than usual. The oppressive weather and urban trek are the perfect backdrop for an interview with Rob, a man who isn’t accustomed to taking the easy way out.
Rob greets me in the usual way - advances with a swagger, offers up the two-cheek kiss then welcomes me into Silverstone Consulting, the business he and his partners have called home for just six months. There are no frills at Silverstone; no private decorator welcomed here. Just the essentials - conference table, chairs and Rob.
Rob’s Irish-emotive persona is part of what makes him one of Cincinnati’s great characters. He’ll talk about his granddaughters with a tear in his eye, then quickly turn to business matters with a shout, flying hand gestures and a use of analogy that is unmatched by any writer practicing the craft. “Your sales approach is as strong as my grandma Edna’s handshake.” “That business plan should be used as a surrender flag.”
This type of banter comes naturally to Rob - he serves up his experience and charm like the veteran businessman that he is and the Chicago roughneck that he was. His personality is imbued with confrontation; he’s a teacher and entertainer.
The interview put Daly on a different side of the table, if you will. Instead of knocking specific questions about business or politics out of the park, he was faced with broad considerations about his life and life in general - a difficult task for anyone but particularly challenging for a guy who takes things seriously and wants to “do it right.”
Daly started his career at P&G, that venerable global packaging company that does far more than make diapers and shampoo. P&G gives thousands of people a first-rate education in precision marketing and professional legitimacy for the remainder of their careers. Daly’s seven years at P&G spanned strategy, brand and operations in the U.S. and in Europe. He managed integrated brand and category teams, launched new plants and evolved legacy operations.
Daly reflects upon his career at P&G with satisfaction. “People were frighteningly generous to me. I was given great opportunities very early on.” Daly’s P&G work served as a launching pad for his career as a consultant and entrepreneur. It also shaped how he saw the interpersonal side of business. “I learned right away that pettiness can be very unattractive. My rule has always been the ‘the hand that gives, gathers’.”
At 29, Rob launched a career helping other businesses, first via COI, a Strategic Management Consulting firm focused upon Fortune 100 companies like GE, GM and Xerox. He spent most of his time helping rustbelt companies shed their heavy cost structure and labor-laden ways to become more streamlined and viable as the Japanese emerged as lithe competitors. “The unraveling we’re seeing now (in the manufacturing sector) started 30 years ago and it wasn’t all ‘the unions’ fault.’ I never met a company that didn’t deserve the union they got, that didn’t create their own problems,” said Daly. Then and now Daly looks at business management as the problem and solution in all business matters. He cites fear of accountability and a basic inability to relate to people as the biggest stumbling blocks for businesses.
Probably the most notable turn in Daly’s career was the creation of CBG Telecommunications, then the largest local exchange carrier in Ohio. Rob’s honor as “entrepreneur of the year” in northeast Ohio coincided with the sale of the company to ICG Netcom, a publicly-traded firm based in Denver. The sale put Rob on strong financial grounding and on the map as a go-to guy for growing and selling a business.
During this time - the late 1970s when Rob was in his early-thirties - he was leaving his mark in the civic realm as well. Daly grew up in urban Chicago and the race riots of the 60s took place in his neighborhood. He remembers his father denouncing segregation and the white-mandated practices that led to the unrest. “My father was usually very shy and quiet but he was intensely fair and he hated bullies. He would immediately take on people over the issue of fairness. That really stuck with me,” said Daly. Daly spent his youth in the segregated Chicago school system and grew up in an ethnic neighborhood that had certain boundaries. “You learned where you could go and when you could hang out with certain friends,” said Daly. He left Chicago and went on to play football at Hillsdale College in Michigan where he learned that even the camaraderie afforded by athletics had its limits. “We all - black and white - fought as one on the field. Then afterward, we’d shower and walk up the hill to the dining hall and slowly drift to the left or right and sit at different tables once we got there, “ he reflects.
His dad’s voice, his own experience and Daly’s personal taste for taking things on led to his involvement in Cincinnati’s civil right scene. Segregation-style mortgage lending and redlining practices were hot button issues in every major city in the US from the 1950s into the 1980s. “Residential security maps,” restrictive covenants, the emergence of housing projects and highway construction that plowed through African American neighborhoods tore apart the very fabric of many minority communities. The lasting negative impact these policies and trends have had on our cities is evident even today.
Daly became Chairman of Cincinnati’s Fair Housing Association at age 31. He led the charge for two class action suits - two against Cincinnati Real Estate companies, another a school desegregation suit. As in business, he received support from colleagues and mentors, particularly friends in the Jewish community. “I don’t know why but I felt particularly welcomed by Jewish families in Cincinnati. We just loved to talk, eat and debate what to do about what was going on in the city,” he said.
It’s interesting to consider that Daly had one foot in business and the other in furthering social justice. P&G’s political influence in Cincinnati is a fact of life. They have been an integral component to the power structure that has strengthened corporate position in Cincinnati for decades. It’s quite possible that Daly’s business background and his acknowledgment of what made “both sides” tick helped him be a more formative civil rights leader than your average protester. Yet Daly admits that as he’s grown older, he’s actually become more cautious about what he says to whom. Is it that age tames the tiger, mellows the soul? Or is it something larger - a societal shift where being outspoken is no longer in vogue?
Daly agrees that a quiet has covered the city in the last 30 years. “I remember the 70s and 80’s being a time when we simply had a lot of really interesting people being heard in Cincinnati,” he says. “City Council set the tone for confrontation and getting things done. We had Ken Blackwell, Jerry Springer, Guy Gukenberger, Bobbie Sterne and others on council who were just really visible characters. The CBC,would go head to head over stuff like zoning and would be shouting so loud someone would need to close the door. Then after we’d all had their say they would eventually have to break bread and go about the day,” Daly reflects.
Daly believes that the single biggest problem in Cincinnati today is that people are so afraid to take issues head on. He sees much more political correctness than he used to with people too afraid to rock the boat for fear it will scar their reputation. “I can kind of understand it,” he says, “because people are afraid of getting pot shots from the peanut gallery (the media).” Daly points out that corporate Cincinnati used to be more vocal as well and that most Cincinnatians don’t even know who presides over major corporations like Convergys and Kroger. “CEOs just aren’t leaving fingerprints in Cincinnati like they used to. But there are some things that simply need straight talk. You can’t make an omelet unless you break some eggs,” Daly quips.
Daly also believes that part of the civic hush he observes is due to the fact that today’s issues aren’t as salient as they once were. “We’re actually more closely aligned on issues of fairness than we used to be. The media may make you think otherwise but I think we’re actually closer to sharing the same viewpoint than you might expect,” he says.
Maybe our differences are fewer today, or like many children of the American 60s, perhaps Daly simply believes that nothing will ever compare to the culture clash brought about by civil rights. Either way, he’s convinced that few people have the courage or innate skills to stand up and lead unless someone they trust points them in the right direction. “What separates me from the less fortunate is that people got in my face or showed me patience, or knocked obstacles out of my way. I am intensely aware of how many people did that for me and how many times I teetered but landed on my feet or got discouraged and somebody yanked me up,” he reflects.
Now Daly is the mentor - for entrepreneurs, CEOs and average people who happen to cross his path in this small-town-of-a-city called Cincinnati. Because he’s lived through it, he can spot exposure, vulnerability and pain in others trying to make their way. Instead of judging or denouncing, Daly steps in and tries to be the advisor, right the wrong, set a person back on the right path. “If there’s one way I’m ‘PC’ it’s that I’m reluctant to criticize someone who’s taking a chance, whether or not I agree with their position. If someone is tough enough to take something on and lead I have nothing but admiration,” says Daly.
So if you happen to meet Rob Daly - Hugo in Oakley is your best bet - don’t pull out your résumé and list all of the things that you “do.” Tell him a little bit about who you are. Order a drink, be genuine and be free to state your position about politics, life and love. Just don’t take things too seriously and be ready to break bread when it’s all said and done.
