"Mr. Nokia" Changed the World, but Successors Couldn’t Adapt to the Future
Savonlinna is a small Finnish town about 350 kilometers from Helsinki. To save us time, the European Business Leaders' Meeting organizers decided to fly us there on a small plane, allowing us to enjoy the world-renowned opera festival at the local castle. It was sort of a relaxation program after a rather tense day of presentations and business discussions at Helsinki's Hilton.
No one objected; every one of the hundred participants in this high-level meeting had heard legends about this festival, which attracts people from around the globe. Moreover, that evening marked its opening, perfectly matching the prestigious level of the event.
We had no luggage, as we would be flying back after midnight,
and arriving at the small airport then settling in took just minutes. I sat beside a blond Scandinavian man in a simple gray summer suit. I greeted him politely, but he didn't have a name badge on his jacket for some reason, so I awkwardly introduced myself. "Jorma, from Finland," he replied absentmindedly, nodding slightly instead of shaking hands as he turned towards the window. Somewhat puzzled, I handed over my business card, knowing that there were no random people at this meeting. Not receiving one in return, I asked innocently, "Are you a banker?"
"Oh, no... I run a Finnish company called Nokia. You may have heard of it..." he replied.
Only my seatbelt kept me from slipping out of my seat. I pulled out my brand new and, at the time, exceptionally expensive Nokia Communicator—the company's most legendary model. Sitting next to me was none other than Jorma Ollila, the president of Nokia—
at the time, a company with over $30 billion in global sales
and the undisputed leader in mobile communications. However, he glanced again, this time more attentively, at my business card and exclaimed, "Oh, Bulgaria! I've never been there but heard wonderful things about the country. Tell me more—we've got plenty of time!"
In fact, I was expecting him to be the one telling the stories as the plane circled below the clouds, but I began my long-prepared "speech" about Bulgaria. However, when I mentioned "wonderful and very intelligent people" and "investment," he became more engaged. After interrupting me with a few questions, he suddenly said, "Maxim, I absolutely must visit your country. I strongly believe in new markets because people's drive for success and to prove themselves is much greater than in developed countries. Bulgaria is exciting to me; I've even heard that we're selling quite well there and are also interested in building mobile stations for operators."
As we were still soaking in Verdi's incredible performance of Tosca and silently walking towards the garden, where a professionally crafted gourmet dinner awaited, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see Jorma Ollila, who suggested we sit together to continue our conversation. He told me that during the intermission,
he had tried to read more about Bulgaria on his phone.
"Fascinating country, indeed. You have an exceptional history, and I can easily predict an even more successful future—assuming, of course, the world moves in the right direction for you.
I was surprised by this unexpected "condition" for the world and immediately asked what he meant. He smiled slightly and explained how countries are becoming more interconnected, how markets now have no borders, and how this will bring entirely new and unfamiliar challenges for us—how we do business and compete and how customer expectations can change in hours.
"In fact," Ollila continued, "that's the beauty of modern business: so many challenges force companies to be extremely flexible and innovative. Innovation—that's the key word now."
We talked at length about Nokia's incredible success as a brand and as a model for a corporation that had dominated the global market with its cutting-edge technology.
"The fact that we connect people ("Connecting People" was the company's legendary slogan)
has made us constantly think of new ways to improve it every day. This new, open world without borders requires a new type of communication, and we'll continue to provide it with our new technologies. But if we fail to meet this challenge, we'll quickly be left out of the market—the competition is that fierce and dynamic," he added, looking calmly and slightly dreamily.
At the time, I had no doubt that this would be the case. I knew almost all of Nokia's top management. Vice President Stefan Widomski had visited Bulgaria several times, and I even managed to show him the beautiful Bansko winter resort for a weekend. The whole world, not just me, admired how such a relatively small northern country could create a brand and telecommunications technology no one had seen before.
Slightly nervously, I asked Jorma Ollila if he had ever considered investing in a factory in Bulgaria, a country with enormous potential, full of intelligent and well-educated people, and most importantly—at the time—ready to join the European Union as a full member. I immediately explained why: it could serve as a good platform for exports to the Middle East and Asia and a cost-saving opportunity in terms of transportation and production.
"Look, Maxim," Ollila said, "we know all this very well. We monitor new markets closely almost every day. But you must understand that Bulgaria's image isn't exactly the one that would make our investors jump for joy. After all, we're a public company. We would gladly make such an investment, but your government needs to work hard so that if someone from our team proposes it to Nokia's board, everyone votes in favor without hesitation. And that's your job, not ours..."
I didn't particularly like hearing those words and
began passionately telling him more about Bulgaria,
even though deep down, I understood how right he was and that, indeed we needed to put in more effort to create a better image for Bulgaria. Nevertheless, the very next day, I sent him a written invitation to visit Bulgaria. While waiting for his reply, a couple of months later, I read that he had left Nokia to chair the board of another global giant, Shell, where he remained for almost ten years.
We all know how it turned out—the predictions not only of Jorma Ollila but also of all the top managers of global investment companies collapsed within months after Nokia failed to respond adequately to the new trends that took over the market in literal days. New players quickly took the lead, essentially proving Ollila's point that if we don't adapt to the market every day, we'll soon be out of it...