A reality check on the OOH industry by Noomi Mehta

I recently had the pleasure and privilege of meeting one of the legends of the global OOH media business, Jean-François Decaux. His address at the WOO Congress in London was both insightful and inspiring. Several of the points he made have direct relevance to us in India. 

 What was particularly encouraging, however, was hearing in a separate conversation that  JCDecaux remains interested in increasing its presence in India. Similar sentiments were echoed by other international players, including a large investment group that seems to be collecting media assets around the world with the enthusiasm of a child collecting cricket cards. 

Excellent news indeed. But it raises a simple question: are we ready? 

There is no doubt that we need investment to grow the OOH media assets business and help it claim its rightful place under the sun — or at least somewhere near the front row. Yet there is also a concern that foreign investment could fundamentally alter the industry, favouring large corporates with deep pockets, polished presentations and PowerPoint animations that move faster than young Vaibhav Suryavanshi’s bat. 

Moving past the colonial hangover 

India achieved independence nearly 79 years ago, but we still occasionally suffer from the belief that anything foreign must automatically be superior. It is a colonial hangover that refuses to retire, despite repeated requests. 

We need investment badly, but we also worry about the consequences. Across the world, acquisitions generally involve the existing management staying on in some form, retaining a smaller stake while gaining access to capital and expertise to grow the business. 

In India, however, the OOH industry has often been built on the celebrated principle of “jugaad”—that uniquely Indian management philosophy which showcases our ability to somehow manage situations. It remains a treasured skill, occasionally assisted by the traditional “wink-wink, nudge-nudge” understanding that smoothens rough edges and occasionally ignores them altogether. 

The Boardrooms of larger international OOH Media companies have quite a different approach to management. Their extraordinary size requires departments, managers, planners, surveyors, business managers, account executives, field staff, construction workers, CEOs, CFOs, and committees by the dozen. Each one responsible, authorised and accountable. They take their projected income seriously and protect it ferociously. 

One can only imagine the first board meeting where our easy-going overlapping style encounters the cold precision of an international CEO armed with spreadsheets, compliance manuals, ethics committees and a deeply held belief that contracts should actually mean what they say. If the projected income is unsatisfactory we simply write down a larger number. We worry about reaching the target, somehow at a later date! For us, numbers are a work in progress, for the larger corporations numbers are sacrosanct. It promises to be educational for both sides. ` 

That said, many of my friends in the industry are not particularly concerned about the “after”. Their view can be summarised rather simply: “Paisa to aane do, baad mein dekhenge.” A strategy which, to be fair, has powered much of Indian entrepreneurship for decades. 

Negotiating with what’s viable, what’s not 

For the moment, therefore, let us focus on what would help smoothen the inward journey of those much-awaited dollars. 

Investment tends to follow three golden and rather inflexible principles: 

• Great locations for sites.
• Long-term contracts.
• Enforceable contracts.

Of these, only one is substantially under our direct control: site locations. 

Long-term contracts can be negotiated for private properties, but the broader policy environment remains firmly in the hands of bureaucrats guided by politicians, a combination that can sometimes produce outcomes more surprising than a last-over cricket match. 

Policies in several states have been amended repeatedly, often to the detriment of OOH media owners. In some places, ground-based sites have been declared illegal, only for rooftop sites to subsequently suffer the same fate. It is almost as though the industry is participating in a nationwide game of regulatory musical chairs. 

Some states, lacking a policy altogether, decided to remove all sites. Realising that the word “ban” might attract unwanted legal attention, they instead described the exercise as a “clean sweep” pending a new policy. The result was largely the same, although admittedly with better branding. 

To complicate matters further, applications for permissions and renewals can sometimes remain unanswered for years. The absence of a reply then becomes evidence that no permission exists, leading to prompt declarations of illegality and even more prompt removals. It is a fascinating administrative process in which silence eventually becomes a decision. 

Which brings us to the final principle: enforceable contracts. 

Here we face another challenge. In a legal system where disputes can sometimes outlast business plans, management teams and, on occasion, entire career spans, enforceability remains a concern. Court backlogs run into millions of cases, making patience less of a virtue and more of a mandatory business requirement. 

The absence of a robust law of torts adds to the difficulty. Minor grievances often have no remedies, while actions against public authorities can be both lengthy and complex. Accountability, therefore, can occasionally resemble an elusive billboard location—everyone has heard about it, but not everyone has actually seen it. 

So where does that leave us? 

On the three essential criteria for attracting investment, we score strongly on one, partially on another and continue to hope for improvement on the third. 

In cricketing terms, we are perhaps nine wickets down, two reviews remaining and waiting for the third umpire. 

The opportunity is undoubtedly there. The interest is real. The capital is willing. 

The question remains: are we ready?