Blogging elf Maxine Vaccine pays tribute to the ABPI, looks forward to the office party, and asks Pf readers a crucial question about the future.

Maxine’s attitude got her in trouble again. It must be Thursday.

A mildly snarky comment about the ABPI and its ‘the honeymoon is over’ stance on value-based pricing, and look what happens – Pf gets an e-mail from Stephen Whitehead, Chief Executive of the pharma industry’s trade association. Most shaming of all, it wasn’t a snarky response. It was a reasonable and sensible response explaining that the ABPI has always regarded the VBP concept as complex and has tried to ensure that, if it becomes the UK pharma sector’s currency, it is not devalued.

Which left your humble correspondent looking immature and shamed. Which hasn’t happened since the morning after the last office Xmas party. More about that later.

Meanwhile, I wanted to tell Stephen Whitehead – whose role as the industry’s voice I praised a few months back – that I apologise for any offence caused. It’s part of my role to voice objections that might arise in the mind of the average pharmaceutical sales professional and require an answer. And as my manager will tell you, ‘average’ is very much the word – indeed, she commented at the last staff Xmas party (of which more later) that ‘average’ was more aspirational than descriptive – in my case.

By way of reparation, and to show that I do read the ABPI press releases, here’s a short verse celebrating the Association’s hard-working and boat-rocking leadership:

Stephen Whitehead, the industry’s voice,
Said patients should have far more choice –
But the strictures of QIPP
Were a hole in the ship
Though the DH was chanting ‘Rejoice!’

Remember, this is meant to be an interactive blog. We’re keen to read your feedback on the issues raised here. Please send your comments to the Pf editor, John Pinching, at john.pinching@healthpublishing.co.uk with the subject heading ‘WTF is that Maxine talking about?’ It’s already a substantial file, as my line manager at Munchkin Pharma can attest.

In particular, we want your feedback on one of the key questions that any pharmaceutical sales professional will need to consider in 2013 as we emerge from winter into spring: Would you date a colleague?

To address the tangled theme of office romance in the issue of Pf that will be in your otherwise empty hands on Valentine’s Day, the journal called on its most creative and insightful journalist. But she was not available and the second choice was busy with NHS reform and the third choice was drunk, so they tried a few other options (including the caretaker) and finally, in desperation, called me.

So: assuming you had some time on your hands and were free (or could arrange to be on a timeshare basis), would you engage in a ‘special project partnership’ with someone from your industry, your company, and your team? Would that be the perfect prescription or a formula for disaster? Would you sell each other a vision of happiness or down the river?

Please give it some thought while munching mince pies and imbibing sweet sherry like the diabetes crisis was still a century away. Then e-mail the Pf editor (see above) with your verdict and the reason why. Thank you!

(If you work with me, there’s no need to reply. I know the answer, and I know why. It has to do with the office Xmas party. But I’m on a word limit here and there’s no space to explain.)

Have a restful Yuletide break – and look after your elf.

Fearless pharma blogger Maxine Vaccine prepares for her new job with a trip to Matalan, the Body Shop and the online NHS.

Yes, it’s true. After the Bank Holiday I’m starting a new job. Those lovely people at Pharmajobs helped me look for the right role, employer and region, put me in touch with specialist agencies and companies that matched my aspirations and talents. And then my line manager at Munchkin Pharma said “Would you like a new role?”

She explained about key account management. No more sales pitch blues, no more marketing message Mondays, no more NLP courses, no more free samples. A new life of consultative selling – providing solutions – being an expert on who you’re selling to rather than what you’re selling. In short, a proper grown-up job. Finally, she asked me: “Do you have any questions?”

I said: “Will I need a new outfit?”

My manager gave me her famous tight smile. “Ah yes, that’s something else we need to discuss. That attitude of yours.”

But seriously, what is changing in my professional life is the shift from a ‘lone wolf’ approach – hitting the road with one goal in mind, only talking when there’s a product to be sold, regarding my colleagues as deadly rivals, living just to put ticks beside names on my list – to a sense of being embedded in a dynamic professional network of stakeholders across various sectors. Every day brings new people and new ideas.

I’m not just a lonely sales functionary, I’m one of many points of contact between a changing company and its changing customer base, and my role is to communicate and learn, to work out how Munchkin Pharma can meet customer needs across a local healthcare landscape that is changing so fast it feels like the NHS has become a computer game. I feel more connected to my own colleagues as well as to the people with whom I’m building commercial relationships.

Instead of the false personalisation of sales – the fake smile, the fluttered eyelashes, the lowered voice – there’s the real personal engagement of understanding what your customer wants to achieve, the customer understanding what you want to achieve, and the common ground on which you both take a step forward. That only happens when you think hard instead of just talking hard.

Farewell to the black book, hello to the iPad. And what’s commanding my attention for much of the working day is the increasingly widespread and diverse character of the NHS online. It’s not just who is commissioning and prescribing, it’s how, for whom, on what basis and according to which budget. If the NHS had a Facebook profile its relationship status would be ‘It’s complicated.’

This weekend, I’m getting my hair reshaped and my wardrobe restocked. I’m partying in my usual restrained style. Another day for rest and recuperation, and I’ll be ready for the working week. And then the real fun will start.