Compelling storytelling in business often threads together anecdotes and numbers into a single tale.

This dynamic comes across loud and clear in the USA Today article “Utility Turns Table Scraps into Electricity” by Julie Schmit

The story focuses on the East Bay Municipal Utility District in the San Francisco Bay Area and its first-of-a-kind treatment of wastewater.

Great anecdote sets the stage for the process:

Upon arrival via truck at the plant, the food scraps look like mounds of wet dirt. They’re dumped into 20,000-gallon underground tanks. There, grinders turn the scraps into a mud-like substance. Bigger items, such as rocks and utensils, fall out.

On a recent morning, it took just minutes for a 20-ton truck to unload. Pressure pulls most of the odors into the tank. Still, the smell of cheese was present.

“That all comes from last night’s dinner plates,” Williams said as he watched.

Schmit puts the reader at the scene.

I confess I have a weakness for bad puns:

The food-scrap project “hasn’t been a cakewalk,” said David Williams, the director of wastewater for the utility.

This is also a story where the numbers deliver context:

• 2,300 companies provide food scraps
• 30 million tons of food waste go to landfills each year
• The utility processes 100 to 200 tons of food scraps a week
• Food scraps provide enough to power for 1,300 to 2,600 homes
• If the utility secured all 1,800 tons of scraps from commercial enterprises in the region, it could power 25,000 homes
• 50% of U.S. food waste could power 2.5M homes

It’s no easy task to explain the science behind taking half-eaten burgers, overcooked veggies, etc. and magically transforming the stuff into electricity.

While the narrative does an admirable job, depicting the process visually makes it easily understood (even if most people are going to stumble over the word “anaerobic”).

(For a larger version, click here.)

Why this graphic only shows up in the print version remains a mystery. If you’re going to take the time to create such a visual, why not insert it into the digital version as well? Perhaps USA Today was running short on bytes that day.

It’s revealing to contrast the USA Today graphic with the one on the utility’s Web site:

(For a larger version, click here.)

Needless to say, USA Today simplified the information and increased the visual appeal.

All in all, it’s a good story and one that an enterprising youngster can seize upon; i.e., “I’m not wasting food; it’s going to make our electricity.”

Like most business publications, the Journal has been covering the maneuvering related to the Supreme Court addressing the question on intellectual property:

When can a business method be patented?

As you would expect, stories have revolved around attorneys and CEOs informally pleading their cases that just so happen to align with their own interests. Not exactly scintillating content.

To the credit of Journal reporter Jess Bravin, he captures a wonderful anecdote in his story Justices to Test Patents For Business Methods:

In 1917, for instance, the U.S. Patent Office granted Clarence Saunders a patent for a “self-serving store,” where customers took items from shelves and brought them to a checkout counter to pay, rather than giving shopping lists to clerks who then fetched the groceries. Mr. Saunders licensed his patent to independent grocery stores under the name Piggly Wiggly.

Are you kidding me?

The action of walking down an aisle to pick up to a bottle of ketchup could be patented? (Which probably means someone also owns the patent on the salad bar concept.)

Back to the Piggly Wiggly -

I found Mr. Saunders’ Patent No. 1242872 and couldn’t help but notice the filing date of October 21, 1916 and the issue date of October 1917.

It’s comforting to know that even back then, the U.S. Patent Office moved at its own pace.

I love the language in the actual patent:

The object of my said invention is to provide a store equipment by which the customer will be enabled to serve himself and in so doing, will be required to review the entire assortment of goods carried in stock, conveniently and attractively displayed and after selecting the list of goods desired, will be required to pass a checking and paying station at which the goods select may be billed, packaged and settled for before retiring from the store, thus relieving the store of a large proportion of the usual incidental expenses, or overhead charges required to operate it, all as well be herinafter more fully described and claimed.

Apparently, English teachers back in 1917 were a bit more tolerant of run-together sentences.

I have a feeling we’re going to hear more stories about Clarence Saunders and his unique patent in the coming weeks.

To net it out, companies ranging from IBM to Novartis to Amazon aspire to be Piggly Wiggly.

Side note: I suspect Jess Bravin, who works out of D.C., discovered this anecdote at the local Patent Museum which spotlights how Mr. Saunders transformed his patent into the Piggly Wiggly empire.

The Wall Street Journal nails the story “Huge Pipeline Delivers Bonanza to Towns on Route.”

What makes it compelling?

Let’s start with timing.

After slaving on this 1,679-mile wonder, the last leg is now being laid and welded. The end is literally in sight.

With a helping hand from REX’s PR department, Journal writer Ann Davis offers ample quantification:

• Last leg of the pipeline cost $6.7B

• Used 1.4M tons of steal

• Welded 110,814 sections of 42-inch pipe

• Negotiated with 6,530 landowners for rights of way

Side note: Can you imagine? I can’t even get my neighbors to trim their avocado tree hanging over our front yard.

• Worked 27 million man-hours

• Created 10,000 jobs

• Reduced the premium the East pays over the West to 17 cents per million British thermal units from $2.77

I’ve evangelized the power of the anecdote, which Ms. Davis showcases throughout the piece starting with misplaced varmints:

“To avoid disturbing the endangered Indiana bat, crews in Ohio had to clear trees in the dark and in warm weather when bats wouldn’t roost. Biologists monitored their every move.”

Nice touch bringing in the binocular brigade for a little tension.

But the best anecdote comes from the periphery:

Dry cleaners are starching uniforms for welders so sparks will bounce off their clothes and not burn holes.

Good imagery. I’m guessing the heavy starch box gets the checkmark.

And rather than shackle the pipeline with esoteric nomenclature, the good folks from Kinder Morgan Energy Partners dubbed the pipeline REX. Even I get the double entendre to the land of oil and gas, TEX.

Aside from a few pesky analysts questioning Kinder’s financial return, this is a feel-good story that delivers.

Kinder’s president of natural-gas pipelines and COO Steven Kean sums up the undertaking with the Zen-ish reflection:

“Everybody really needed the pipe. The question was: Who was going to build it?”

The latest issue of BusinessWeek ran a piece called “The Leaner Baby Boomer Economy”

In short, the story looks at how major brands like Starwood Hotels and Mercedes are responding to baby boomers cutting back on their discretionary spending.

Like all compelling storytelling, the writer David Welch makes good use of anecdotes.

For example, he highlights clothing designer Vera Wang with the following insight:

“In one instance, Wang made a high-end dress using fabric that costs $5 a yard instead of $12 but used the fabric in several layers to give the garment a richer look.”

Is Wang worried that her customers will learn that she’s using a cheaper fabric?

No.

Because she has confidence in the end product and a value proposition that aligns with today’s consumer climate.

In the world of technology, companies often hesitate to share this type of information, rationalizing that it would hurt their business if known to the competition. But Wang isn’t worried about divulging proprietary company information because she recognizes the real secret lies in the how (execution), not in the what (multi-layer approach with the fabric).

A second anecdote and my personal favorite comes from Mercedes:

“Mercedes has quietly recruited 500 people aged 20 to 32 for a focus group it calls Generation Benz. Mercedes researchers are seeking their views on the economy, car ads, model designs, and more. The automaker sent 20 Generation Benzers into dealerships wearing flip-flops and other casual attire to see how much attention they received. Four of the 20 were ignored. The results, says Steve Cannon, vice-president for marketing, served as a wake-up call to Mercedes dealers.”

At first blush, this information could be interpreted as a negative hit on Mercedes; i.e., if you’re not dressed “right” you get ignored in Mercedes dealerships.

Instead, Mercedes shows transparency in learning from its mistakes which in turn makes for a good story. Plus the car maker recognizes that a) no company is perfect, so sharing a “blemish” is OK, and b) the bigger message, “we listen” comes through.

As shared in an earlier post The Enigma of Business Journalism, The Economist we analyzed the tech-related articles in The Economist, covering the April through November 2008 issues. Seventeen percent of the content fell under the anecdotal umbrella.

Kudos to the Mercedes PR department which I suspect proactively dug out the Generation Benzers anecdotes and made them available to the reporter. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Welch covers the auto industry so he interacts with Mercedes on a regular basis.

No, I’m not talking about Matt Kenseth winning the Daytona 500.

Instead, consider what brings the vast majority of folks to the racetrack.

It’s the possibility to witness a high-speed wreck.

I’ve come to call the type of story that offers up the possibility of a wreck - defining “wreck” as an element of the story tied to the protagonist going horribly astray - as a “NASCAR story.”

I recently saw a front-page note in the San Jose Mercury News asking readers if they’re out of work, searching for a new job and interested in Warholic fame to drop the editors a note. The Merc will pick a few folks to follow on their job hunt and report on each saga.

This is a NASCAR story because the potential exists for a wreck. Given that almost 600,000 folks lost their jobs in January alone according to the U.S. Labor Department, there’s no guarantee that these stories will close with the birds chirping and everyone living happily ever after. 

I suppose it’s a similar dynamic to reality TV and what keeps people coming back to “American Idol” (as an aside, my daughter has Lil Rounds as the early favorite). The unscripted nature of this type of story means the reader/viewer doesn’t know the ending, with the potential wreck always lurking around the corner.

I’m surprised more communications professionals don’t develop and pitch NASCAR stories. No question, there’s a dimension of risk, but the reward can be opening doors at heavyweight publications without the typical news announcement.

I flagged a story last month in The Wall Street Journal titled “Cooking Up Ways to Improve Steaks on a Plane” (provided the link to the story on MSN for those without a subscription to the online Journal). It’s an entertaining read as columnist Scott McCartney essentially places himself at the hip of the Singapore Airlines’ head of food service, Mr. Freidanck, as he evaluates one of the airline’s food vendors, the Chelsea Food Service based in Houston.

It’s also a NASCAR story.

McCartney’s unscripted “access” makes for drama and a narrative rich in anecdotes:

Because the dry air of a jet cabin dries mouths, taste is diminished in flight. So Singapore and other carriers exaggerate flavors in meals.

The piece also contains a few mini-wrecks in which the caterer’s executive chef gets raked over the coals (couldn’t resist):

Mr. Freidanck tastes while Shashi Nath, Chelsea’s executive chef, awaits judgment. A corn chowder isn’t thick enough. Oops, celeriac and pear cream soup is too thick. “Do they really understand celeriac here in Texas?” Mr. Freidanck asks the throng taking notes on every order.

A sauce is too starchy; beef soup is too salty. “Something was lost in translation on the beef soup,” he says. Crabmeat on top of avocados in one salad looks messy and he redesigns the layout himself, then photographs it when he gets it exactly as he wants it. Mushrooms in one dish are chopped too small, their variety unrecognizable. Muscovy duck is undercooked and doesn’t taste right. “It’s not Muscovy!” Mr. Freidanck says.

“It is positively,” Mr. Nath insists.

I can almost picture a shouting match: “It’s not a Muscovy duck … Yes it is … No it isn’t … Yes it is.”

Yet, even with the negatives, the reader takes away an overall positive impression of Singapore Airlines and its quest to serve the customer.

Kudos to the Singapore Airlines PR team (assuming the seed of the story came from them) for not only manufacturing the storyline but for selling the concept to management.

The media loves NASCAR stories.

It would behoove communications professionals to push beyond their comfort zone and that of their company to develop these types of angles with unhandled access. Such an approach certainly better aligns with the needs of the media than a news release.