On a bundle-up February morning, the Ansley Golf Club course is splotched with snow. Inside the warm clubhouse, a gathering whose name borrows appropriately from football terminology is under way.
At his company’s 23rd Kickoff Meeting, CEO and founder Bob Mathis points to a projector screen that bears the firm’s slogan. Or, in business-speak, the internal value statement:
“Help some people, make some money and have some fun.”
The message seems more befitting an entertainment enterprise or a casual service industry, such as catering or limousines.
But financial planning?
They are words to work and live by at Peachtree Planning Corp., the money adviser designated Top Workplace for small metro-rooted firms (fewer than 125 employees).
Mathis, who launched his venture 24 years ago with a skeleton staff of three, has invited his 150-plus workforce from throughout the Southeast to a day of seminars, framed in a pep rally and group pat on the back for a smashing 2010.
Early on, they are reminded of the company’s motto — er, internal value statement.
“It was my vision to start a company that was designed to help some people,” Mathis said later by e-mail. “At the end of the day, whether someone becomes a client or not, the time we have spent with them will give them information to have a clearer look at their reality and make better decisions.
“By ‘living well,’ we mean that the way we live our lives can have a positive effect on others,” Mathis added. “If we will spend our time trying to help people, we will have a sufficient number who will become our clients and, over time, we will make a little money along the way.”
Mathis continued, “Having some fun with our clients, and during our life, indicates that we are enjoying the services we render to others and the positive impact we receive from them.”
His company boasts a retention rate of advisers that outstrips the industry by 40 percent. Five years after their hiring, three of every four remain onboard.
Joshua Cobb, 37, was hired a dozen years ago from the banking industry, which he found too impersonal. He applauds the “holistic process” at Peachtree Planning that encourages advisers to take the client’s financial temperature and treat the whole, from tax relief to saving for education to retirement planning, as opposed to selling single-tasked financial products.
Cobb appreciates the business structure that, for him, is entirely commissions-driven. The clients, in essence, belong to him, not the company.
“You are the business owner,” he says, while willing to trade a safety net for the freedom. “I’m responsible for drumming up my own business. You can work three days a week, four hours a day if you want.” (Cobb, a vice president at the firm, does nothing of the sort.)
He and his colleagues lean on a brain trust of staff experts, specializing in areas from estate planning to law, and tap into that knowledge base to set a money game plan for clients. The input is available gratis to the advisers.
“I’ve got this intellectual talent at my beck and call that I don’t have to put up any capital for,” he says.
Most of all, Cobb welcomes the interaction with customers, which he found more restrictive in his previous gig.
“I like people,” he says.
Poring over financial records can be fraught with drudgery and potential confusion. Cobb attempts to inject humor into the process, joking with clients whenever appropriate. (In doing so, he carries out the counsel voiced by Mathis at the meeting: “Look for the human in situations.”)
In turn, Cobb has been invited to clients’ anniversary parties and their kids’ weddings. He was asked by one to serve on a fundraiser board.
After lunch at the Kickoff Meeting, Cobb pulls out a notepad, grabs a pen and alerts a visitor to the next speaker. Noted financial consultant Bob Ball is soon working the room, telling his captive audience, “You have to be much, much different” in a field whose reputation has been damaged by financially unsafe products and unsound planning.
Ball discourages advisers from asking how much money a client needs for this or that.
“These are unanswerable questions,” he says. “Do not play guessing games with the family and their future.”
Headquarters for the past seven years has been a three-story office building in north Atlanta lined with Bradford pear trees. Inside, there are no cubicles or traditional work spaces. Conference rooms contain smart boards and Web-conferencing equipment. Young visitors, two- and four-legged, often swing by.
The weekly Monday Morning Memo recognizes high performers and mentions birthdays, company anniversaries and special occasions. At quarterly meetings, advisers share their success stories with peers.
Birthdays are recognized with balloons and banners decorating the aging one’s office doors. Significant birthdays, plus special events like weddings and births, are celebrated with lunches.
Because advisers are as responsible to clients as much as their bosses, work hours are flexible. Telecommuting is allowed — to an extreme: The management information systems director lives in Minnesota.
Business has bustled lately, with potential clients soliciting professional help to put increasingly chaotic financial houses in order. The company claims $2.314 billion in assets, making it the ninth largest such operation in metro Atlanta.
The tidings from the CEO Mathis and other speakers at the Kickoff Meeting were nearly all good. If their financial projections come through, there will be plenty of opportunity to have some fun.
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