The satellite pioneer helped put the world on one screen. Its next act, inside SES, is to make different orbits work as one network.
A Boston firm found an unusual way to move public projects forward: treat the meeting, the map and the message as one piece of infrastructure.
Brogan & Partners built a business around messages people would rather avoid. Its trick is not louder advertising, but research precise enough to discover why an audience has stopped listening.
Most agencies sell products. Sherry Matthews Group sells the harder thing: a change of mind - about vaccines, seat belts, transit, tobacco and the planet.
Sage Communications built its name in the place where polished campaigns meet procurement rules, public scrutiny, and sudden policy reversals. Its most revealing work began when a nearly finished idea was told to start over.
TMNcorp built a communications business around a useful humiliation: the first audience, phrase, or format you choose may be wrong. Research finds the mistake before the media budget makes it expensive.
On Arizona's biggest public projects, the decisive technology may be a hotline, a bilingual survey and a clock. This small Phoenix firm turns public attention into an operating system.
Debbie Anglin started moonlighting for founders an ad agency had turned away. Twenty-five years later, her firm still makes its living in the difficult space between what an organization wants to say and what the public is willing to hear.
MediaDesk discovered that public information travels farther when it stops looking like public information. Its proof is an Emmy-winning alien, a water campaign with 1.5 million views, and a business built for clients whose hardest product to sell is participation.
Tunheim spent decades helping institutions explain change. Its more revealing campaign began when the agency admitted that hourly billing, corner offices and old-fashioned reviews were confusing its own value.
Kidd Group began in Jerry Kidd's garage and grew into a three-part communications shop. Its most revealing work took a statewide rules change and made it sound like a useful instruction: Gather. Go. Get.
K Strategies built a business around the awkward space where big civic projects meet actual human beings. The work looks like PR from a distance; up close, it is translation, trust and a very detailed meeting plan.
The Public Service Network built a business around advertising's leftovers - then mixed them with guaranteed placements, unlikely venues and unusually visible reporting. One statewide campaign shows why free airtime is valuable, but never really free.
Walker & Associates has sold ads, built brands and interpreted the Mid-South since 1965. Its most valuable product may be the context a new agency would have to learn from scratch.
Edge Partnerships began with a deceptively useful complaint: two communications executives could not find the agency they wanted to hire. Nineteen years later, its best work still follows the same rule - research first, execution all the way through.
A Washington communications firm discovered that the fastest route to action begins with an unfashionable move: giving the audience a hand in the message.
The Oklahoma City firm built its name where publicity gets difficult: mental health, government, infrastructure and aerospace. Its cleverest work turns a complicated institution into one thing people can remember - and act on.
Before NüPOINT buys an ad or sketches a logo, it tries to find out what people actually believe. That small reversal has helped sell roofs, pass public bonds and turn a 40-year-old acronym into a name people could finally remember.
From credit-card-sized biothreat guides to a one-penny airport campaign, the Lafayette firm built a business by making complicated public information usable before the clock runs out.
Vanguard Communications built a durable agency by refusing the usual agency premise: that every paying client is a plausible client. Its narrow filter - communication in service of public good - became a surprisingly wide field of work.
Global-5 found a durable niche in the least glamorous moment of a public project: when a driver, resident or reporter asks, “What does this mean for me?” Its answer is equal parts newsroom, research lab and road crew.
A 16-person California firm found its niche where most agencies lose their nerve: turning foster care, youth mental health and public programs into messages people will actually notice - and act on.
The Los Angeles-born agency started with Spanish-language websites. Twenty-eight years later, its advantage is still the same unfashionable move: research the audience before buying the attention.
Full Court Press Communications found a durable niche between the policy memo and the public. Its best work begins where information is important, complicated and useless unless somebody can make it travel.
Brown·Miller sells communications. Its more interesting product is the moment a wary voter, landlord or parent decides to do something differently.
In public-safety marketing, the first thing to fail is often the shiny tactic. RedFlash Group built a national consultancy around a less glamorous bet: spend three months learning the system before asking anyone to notice you.
A rainy winter, a bridge under construction, a family looking for help. Westbound Communications makes its living turning public information into something people can use.
A water district asked for better communication. The research pointed to customer service. Inside the agency that helps governments figure out what the public is really telling them.
A free program can still have an empty doorway. Wicked Bionic helps public agencies find the people their messages miss - and sometimes brings in more demand than a program can handle.
A Sacramento creative agency makes complicated causes easier to act on. Its most revealing work starts before the logo, the camera or the first line of code.