Meg
and the Machine
Unstoppable
eBay is No. 8 among Fortune's Fastest-Growing Companies. But
driving this train is harder than you think.
By Adam Lashinsky
August
11, 2003
[Continued,
page 2]
Category
managers have only indirect control of their products, of
course. They can't order more toothpaste onto store shelves.
What they can do is endlessly try to eke out small wins in
their categories—say, a slight jump in scrap-metal listings
or new bidders for comic books. To get there, they use marketing
and merchandising schemes such as enhancing the presentation
of their users' products and giving them tools to buy and
sell better. It's classic needle-moving. And because of
that, say ex-eBayers, the place can be ultracompetitive. To
gain attention for what can seem like simple steps, managers
send around PowerPoint slides, most of which have been honed,
re-honed, and then honed some more before being presented
up the corporate ladder. 
The result
can be glacial change in a company built for speed. Lily Shen,
a senior category manager for fashion—which accounted
for about $900 million of transactions in 2002—noticed
this spring that women's shoes were accounting for an increasing
share of her traffic. Getting them their own category took
two months: Every division—from technology to merchandising
to marketing—had to sign off before the change could
be made. When women's apparel wanted to add a way to narrow
down shoe searches—say size 5 blue pumps for less than
$50—the change took ten months.
To Whitman,
the measurements and the delays are signs not of creeping
bureaucracy but of a system that's developed rules and processes.
The more stats, the more early warnings and the more levers
to pull to make things work. Yet she's aware of the danger
of analysis paralysis. "You have to be careful because
you could measure too much," she says.
It's
a fine line between observing and obsessing. Recently, to
ensure eBay hasn't gone overboard on rules, Whitman brought
in—surprise—even more consultants. The benchmarking
firm measured eBay against peers to see how fast it adds features
to the website. The result: eBay's performance was middle
of the pack, at best. Says Whitman: "We have some work
to do on time to market."
Speed
defined Whitman's life early on. The youngest child of a Wall
Street dad and stay-at-home mom, she raced through high school
in suburban Long Island in three years. At Princeton, she
majored in economics, then landed at Harvard Business School
at the tender age of 21. Awed by the accomplishments of her
older classmates and overwhelmed by the workload, she rarely
left campus. "I was scared to death," she says.
"On my left was someone who'd been at Chemical Bank for
four
years, and on my right was someone who'd been in the Army
for nine years. They also tell you 10% of the class fails
out. For the first year I did almost nothing but work."
That's
probably the last time Whitman was intimidated. With her MBA
in hand she went to Procter & Gamble and became a brand
manager, working alongside future Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer
and Scott Cook, future founder of Intuit. After two years
she and her new husband, neurosurgeon Griff Harsh, moved to
San Francisco, where he had been offered a residency, and
she went to work for Bain. Highly recruited while at the firm,
Whitman left for a series of increasingly senior positions
at
Disney, Stride Rite, FTD, and Hasbro. When she finally joined
eBay, she might have seemed an unlikely CEO of a 30-person
technology startup. But Omidyar and eBay's early board were
looking to build in big-company discipline and ideas.
It wouldn't
be easy. eBay was pushing the limits of what was then called
Internet speed, growing from 34 million auctions in 1998 to
265 million two years later. She moved fast to beef up Omidyar's
gangly marketplace, opening a customer-service center for
the thousands of newbies who were signing up daily, increasing
fraud detection, and installing a new technology team, which
was given carte blanche to remake eBay's infrastructure. Whitman
knew that the eBay idea was powerful; she wanted
to make sure it could thrive.
A hugely
successful business model, though, has a way of masking errors.
And there have been a handful of tactical and strategic missteps
during Whitman's tenure. In 2002 she pulled eBay out of Japan,
the world's second largest economy and Internet user, when
it became clear that Yahoo Japan—then controlled by
Japan's Softbank—had gotten there first and grabbed
an insurmountable lead. She figured that eBay naturally would
be a hit in the offline world and so spent $235 million of
eBay's stock in 1999 buying traditional auction house Butterfield
& Butterfield in San Francisco. The synergies were elusive;
eBay quietly sold Butterfield in 2002 for what it calls an
"immaterial gain."
Her costliest
mistake also offered the biggest lessons about how much the
eBay community determines the company's success. In 2001,
eBay unveiled a checkout procedure for completing transactions.
The initiative, spearheaded by U.S. chief Jordan worked well,
allowing buyers and sellers to settle bills quickly. But instead
of hailing it, the eBay community went crazy. The problem:
The checkout procedure seemed to favor payment via Billpoint,
eBay's payment-processing service. Frequent sellers had grown
attached to PayPal, then an independent company, and were
steamed that eBay was subverting their choice. "About
one-third of the sellers hated it," says Jordan. "They
puked on it. For me it was a lesson in humility and an object
lesson that this is a joint venture."
The train
kept on rolling, it seemed, whether eBay was working the levers
or not. The company quickly made the checkout function optional,
and in 2002 eBay bought PayPal for $1.5 billion, hundreds
of millions more than it might have paid a year earlier.
"Our
best decisions have been the ones where we've seen where the
community was going," says PayPal chief Matt Bannick.
"Some of our biggest mistakes occurred when we put on
our consultant's hats and got in a room and made decisions."
Whitman
describes such missteps as learning experiences, and doesn't
dwell excessively on them; she preaches the art of moving
on. "Most of the time we've made the right decisions,
and when we haven't, we've fixed them," she says.
Besides,
how can you obsess about mistakes when 10,000 of your customers
are screaming your name: "Meg! Meg! Meg!"? It's
late June, and Whitman is in Orlando addressing the crowd
at eBay Live, the second annual real-world meeting of people
used to communicating with one another
strictly through bids and BuyItNows. The scene is a mix of
kitschy Americana with serious business, somewhere between
a carpet-hawker convention and Warren Buffett's annual meeting
at Berkshire Hathaway.
Whitman
strolls to center stage amid cheers, dressed in khakis and
a bright blue eBay button-down shirt, just like every other
employee at the conference. She smiles, giggles nervously,
then quiets the crowd. Her message is humility: "We don't
always get it right the first time, but we try our best to
get it right. We succeed when you succeed." Later, as
she walks the convention-hall floor, she chats with everyone
from UPS CEO Mike Eskew—whose company is a partner of
eBay's—to autograph-seeking sellers of antiques. She
hands out and signs trading cards of herself and other eBay
personalities like Omidyar. The cards are a classic eBay prop
because they're collectible. They're also a way for Whitman
to connect with ordinary people. "It creates a dialogue,"
she explains later. "Then I can say, 'What do you sell?
Where are you from?' "
Whitman,
47, has as blue-blooded and blue-chipped a pedigree as any
CEO, but she has perfected a common touch that comes in handy
running eBay. Her unassuming way, including that nervous giggle,
puts people at ease. As a small child, she took two summer-long
camping trips with her mother, her mom's best friend, and
seven other kids. The group set off from New York one summer
to Alaska and the next to Yosemite, Grand Teton, Bryce, and
other national parks, traveling in a Ford Econoline
van and sleeping and showering each night in campgrounds.
"You learn flexibility," says Whitman of the childhood
experience. "I'm happy to camp. I'm happy to stay at
the Four Seasons." Even today, eBay's CEO, who's a mom
to two teenagers, drives an unglamorous Jeep Grand Cherokee.
Her brain-surgeon husband, whose full name is Griffith Rutherford
Harsh IV, does her one better: He drives a Buick.
Understatedness
may be bred, but marketing is learned. At Procter & Gamble,
Whitman kept a journal of the lessons she was learning as
a brand manager. She still has the journal and consults it
periodically. An early lesson she scribbled down way back
when at P&G: "It's all about the customer."
At eBay,
that's truer than at almost any other company. For all the
monkeys driving trains and other gremlins pulling levers and
turning dials, the customers are the ones who decide what
works and what
doesn't. New eBay board member Tom Tierney, an ex-CEO of Bain
and Whitman's boss when she was a partner there, says he studied
eBay intently before joining the board and was transfixed
by the attitudes of eBay's customers. "It felt to me
almost more like a movement than a business," he says.
Adds Howard Schultz, founder of Starbucks and until recently
an eBay director, "To Meg's credit, the focus has always
been on the community. That's all Meg." Whitman knows
everything that's going
on in the community, in part because the community talks to
her. Her e-mail address, meg@ebay.com, is constantly being
posted to the discussion boards by eBay staff.
How much
of this community bonding is done to keep eBayers from jumping
ship to another site? Ask Whitman, and she freely points out
that's impossible. "Here's the contrast," she says.
"When I was at Hasbro, we asked, 'What is Mattel doing?'
When I was at Disney, it was 'What's Warner Brothers doing?'
Here there is no X to ask about."
Not that
others haven't tried to steal eBay's market. When Whitman
joined the company, Onsale was the upstart competitor. Yahoo
and Amazon had both started auctions. At one point Microsoft
and extinct Web portal Excite even built a consortium to challenge
eBay. Now only Yahoo still has auctions; the rest have disappeared
or abandoned the fight.
Today,
niche competitors remain: Amazon does a brisk business in
used books, Yahoo has captured auctions in Japan, AutoTrader
has stood its ground against eBay Motors in used cars, and
Ticketmaster dominates the buying and selling of seats for
sporting events and concerts. Google's
paid search service is also winning fans among small-business
vendors who would rather sell now than wait for an auction
to end.
Analysts
raise other potential factors that could stunt eBay. Newer
markets, like scrap metal, don't necessarily lend themselves
to the same fervor that eBay users once brought to Beanie
Babies. And with most—if not all—collectors fully
aware of eBay, the company will have to spend more and more
to attract new users, its primary engine of growth.
Whitman
says she's confident about growth. She and her team are constantly
on the lookout for competitive threats, especially in international
markets, a 31%-and-growing share of eBay's revenues. Says
Bob Kagle, the venture capitalist who made the sole outside
investment in eBay and helped recruit Whitman to the company:
"She has seen others break their pick on her, and she
doesn't want to break her pick on anyone else."
As the
many MBAs and ex-consultants beneath her focus on what to
cram onto eBay, how to keep users happy, and what competitive
threats to worry about, Whitman finds herself increasingly
thinking about what the company will look like in the years
hence. That includes considering for the first time what kind
of CEO she wants to be remembered as and the legacy she'll
leave when she pushes off. She changes her answer from time
to time on when that'll be, sometimes saying she intends to
stay at eBay for a total of eight to ten years—stretching
her tenure to 2007 at the latest—other times saying
she's committed to no timetable.
After
a grueling week in Europe, she shows up for the long flight
back to San Jose aboard eBay's corporate jet in a white turtleneck
and torn blue jeans. She says she sees herself as a "Level
5 manager," a reference to management guru Jim Collins's
depiction of a humble, uncharismatic type who's fiercely determined
and gives lots of credit to subordinates. And she's considering
importing a longstanding practice at her alma mater, P&G,
which basically hires only recent college graduates
and new MBAs. "Senior managers almost need to come in
in an understudy role," she says. "We will bring
them in in a way that they can get some level of acclimatization."
Her goal:
to develop leaders capable of maximizing growth in eBay's
weird, nearly competition-free world—leaders who can
stand the fact that there's only so much any eBay boss can,
or should, do. "Why have we gotten such great public
relations?" she asks rhetorically. "Why does 'Weird
Al' Yancovic write a song about eBay?" Her answer: "It's
not because of the management." True. But it's not entirely
because of some monkey driving some train either.
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