Big Pharma Needs A Super Hero

This post is basically for my sister Jessie's amusement. All four of my other readers will find it bizarre. Feel free to return later this weekend, when I will discuss something of more general interest, like how I was the best kick ball player in the history of Muhlenberg Elementary School.

So, Jessie, one of my four beautiful and talented sisters, is a pharmaceutical rep. I've never quite understood -- or, rather, I've never been fully comfortable with the idea of trying to convince doctors to prescribe one medicine over another by bringing them trays of Panera cookies.

"Yes, Dr. Cocktoasten, while it's technically true that our competitor's breakthrough liquid rectal suppository cures both Leprosy and Diabetes while also fighting Gingivitis, and our FDA rejected drug, Anthraxostatin, does not seem to work at all in clinical human trials and caused 43 percent of test subjects over the age of 72 to develop fatal constipation, I've brought cheese filled croissants! And we'd like you to be the guest lecturer during our next product launch, in Monte Carlo, where you'll have daily access to the electric blue Pfizzer Pferarri and will receive unlimited full body massages from Monica Bellucci. You'll write 17,000 scrips next month? Super! Here's some extra pens for your staff and there's a miniature white Lippizaner stallion for your daughter tethered in the parking lot. Thanks so much doctor!"

But I digress. The reason I mentioned my sister's job is because she told me what occurred at her most recent sales meeting (or "Stretch Goal Quest" or whatever ridiculous internal name the company gives such pow wows) and I found it amusing. The point of this meeting -- as it is for all such meetings -- was for the genius level management personnel to tell all the agents that they sucketh greatly and that due to their slothfulness and lack of enthusiasm, market share is in the toilet. The solution to this crisis? Be the Plunger. No, no, my sister was advised by her wise and inspirational team leader that she must ... wait for it ... Think Outside The Box. Brilliant! (Someone in the corporate world should incorporate that novel concept -- maybe with a cute graphic of a brain with legs squatting next to cube -- into a PowerPoint presentation.)

My sister asked the sales Oracle for a bit more specificity, to help her achieve this state of External Boxedness that would increase sales. His response was so deeply asinine that I have no doubt he will be company CEO in less than six months. He said, in his most scornful Gordon Gekko voice: "Do you watch movies? Do you? Well then, ask yourself -- what would Batman do?"

(This exchange immediately brought back long-repressed, horrific memories of my stint as in-house counsel at a large company. My boss, an incomparably hateful woman who we (me) called Satan's Corpulent Handmaiden or the Shambling Mound of Toadyism, when confronted with a question she could not answer -- a frequent occurrence -- would say: "Interesting question. You should read the book 'Who Moved My Cheese?'" Apparently, this book was equivalent to the King James Bible in terms of the eternal, universal truths that it imparted. I never did read the Traveling Cheese book and I smashed my Diversity Cube with a ball peen hammer and I refused to donate to the United Way and was placed on a Watch List by HR. Surprisingly, I did not become a member of the Board of Directors.)

But back to my sister's mentor, Socrates, and his profound inquiry: What would Bat Man do to make doctors write more prescriptions? I want my sister to answer this question correctly on her next "How to Sell Drugs" pop quiz. Well, upon reflection, the answer is obvious. Batman -- at least, Christian Bale's Batman, would employ the following Superhero Sales Stratagems. First, he would signal all the doctors in his territory with a giant spot light showing a Reuben sandwich shaped like a bat, so that they would know it was time for a catered lunch. Next, he would send Catwoman (Michelle Pfeiffer or Halle Berry, take your pick) to sit in the doctors' laps while doing "hypotheticals" and explaining the boring formulary. Finally, Batman would telepathically command the doctors he called on to inject the clueless, jargon spewing corporate drone-bot regional sales managers with a lethal dose of potassium chloride during one of their "ride alongs." This would dramatically boost sales and company morale. Oh, wait -- I think it was Aquaman that had telepathic powers.
Nevermind.

Jessie, I hope this helps you impress the power brokers at your company. At your next sales meeting, when the VP of Rampant Success Visualization asks the group: "If you were a drug tree, what kind of drug tree would you be?" -- I'm afraid you're on your own.