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The
Cheese Queen's Bid for a Bigger Slice
After
years in the doldrums as part of a tobacco company, food giant
Kraft is finally back out on its own. Can new CEO Irene Rosenfeld
spice it up?
By Matthew Boyle
May
25, 2007
[continued,
page 2]
Rosenfeld has made a living by breathing new
life into tired brands. Can she do it again? "She's always
had that constant turnaround mentality," says her former
General Foods boss Jim Kilts, who went on to run Gillette
and knows a thing or two about bringing companies back from
the brink. "She reminds me of me."
Natural
Born Marketer
Sipping
Maxwell House coffee (a Kraft brand, of course) in her spacious
office about 20 miles north of Chicago, Irene Rosenfeld recalls
her upbringing in suburban Long Island: "We grew up on
Kraft mac-and-cheese and Jell-O." She still seems to
be that sort of person: unpretentious and direct.
Rosenfeld
enjoys getting inside people's heads. "I've always been
fascinated by how people think," she says. That fascination
led her to major in psychology at Cornell, where she explored
the psychology of advertising. After getting a doctorate in
marketing and statistics—"which makes it harder
for people to snow me with numbers"—she joined
the market research department at General Foods in 1981.
One day, Rosenfeld gave a presentation to
Jim Kilts about Kool-Aid, which was struggling at the time,
since moms were growing hesitant to serve the sugary drink
to their kids. Kilts was impressed and eventually asked Rosenfeld
to work for him. She later repositioned Kool-Aid as a healthier
alternative to Coke and Pepsi, and sales improved. More prominent
assignments followed: head of beverages in 1991, then desserts
in 1994, where she rejuvenated Jell-O with sugar-free snack
cups.
"I've been reframing categories my whole
life," she says. In 1996, a year after Philip Morris
merged General Foods and Kraft, Rosenfeld took over Kraft's
Canadian unit, a role previously held by Kraft's then-CEO
Bob Morrison. Heading a microcosm of Kraft's U.S. operations,
Rosenfeld grew the business through savvy marketing.
Back in Northfield, Altria had anointed two
co-CEOs: Betsy Holden, who had turned around Kraft's pizza
business, and international executive Roger Deromedi. That
turned out to be a disaster, as lines of responsibility blurred,
problems festered, and employees chose sides. (Holden was
demoted in late 2003 and left the company in 2005.) The turmoil
at the top gummed up the innovation pipeline and also led
to bad decisions, like Kraft's refusal to lower cheese prices
to compete with supermarket labels.
Then there was the ever present shadow of
Altria, which, Kilts says, "added a layer of complexity"
to Kraft's already challenging situation. Altria, meanwhile,
now wanted to rid itself of non-tobacco holdings but had to
resolve major tobacco litigation first. (Spinning off Kraft
with big cases pending might have looked like an illegal attempt
to hide assets.)
"We had a number of issues, and we were
not addressing them," Rosenfeld says. "When I didn't
feel I could have the impact I wanted, I made a decision to
leave." Snatched up by PepsiCo to head Frito-Lay, Rosenfeld
pushed the salty-snacks maker to offer chips made with better-for-you
sunflower oil. Kraft, meanwhile, continued to flounder. Altria's
board ran out of patience with Deromedi last summer and asked
Rosenfeld to return as CEO.
The
Love of Cheese
Nineteen
seconds: That's how long the average shopper takes to pick
out a cheese product during a typical grocery visit. (She
spends almost twice as much time in the soda aisle.) Both
Kraft and its retail customers want shoppers to linger, as
those who buy cheese spend, on average, twice as much in the
store as those who do not buy cheese.
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