"The meek shall inherit squat."

Sermon From the Mount

April 23, 2010

Messaging and The IKEA Effect.

In Predictably Irrational, author Dan Ariely describes the phenomenon whereby human beings naturally attach a lot more positive emotion to possessions that present a bit of challenge to obtain. He calls this The IKEA Effect.


Marketing messages can work the same way. Sometimes “Some Assembly Required” can be a very powerful thing.

This happy airplane helps American Express earn trust.

This happy yellow airplane proves I'm smart and helps American Express earn trust.

My current favorite example of this is the American Express “Don’t Take Chances, Take Charge” TV campaign in which everyday objects like clothing, furniture, a shower curtain and even a pair of closet doors (my favorite vignette) wear sad faces while the voiceover describes how they might get stolen, lost or broken. The faces turn happy as the copy tells us how Amex insures purchases against those very vicissitudes.

Aside from the fact that these are perfectly-crafted little films (the Bach cello music is a brilliant accompaniment, by the way), what I find particularly riveting about the ads is that you need to watch them for a few seconds to get the joke. It’s not immediately apparent that the wallet, mug of cappuccino and leather chair are “sad”. But, by the time your brain can actually form the concept of “hey, what’s going on here?”, the coin drops, the light goes on, the synapses fire and your brain sighs with relief. “I get it. I feel good. Thank you for proving how smart I am, American Express. Now I feel good about myself and I feel good about you, too.”


If you want me to trust you, don’t prove that you’re smart. Prove that I’m smart.


I can’t claim to have any research right here in my hands that demonstrates the efficacy of the American Express commercials, but I do know that Drumcircle just completed a project for a big retailer in which we discovered the real, emotional components of this elusive thing called “trust.” One somewhat counter-intuitive “aha” was this: if you want me to trust you, don’t try to prove how much smarter than me you are (as aside: this has some pretty significant implications for any organization that sells “expertise”; whether that expertise is in home theater systems, enterprise resource planning or even marketing strategy).

Instead, make me feel smart.

There are a lot of ways to make a customer feel smart. One real good one is to let them do some of the final assembly of your message all by themselves. They’ll value the message more highly (according to Dan Ariely) and you may just earn a little bit more of their trust in the process.

February 26, 2010

Real Branding Hurts*

There are hundreds of definitions for branding. There are even dozens of good ones.

The difference is, in marketing, it's the brander who hurts instead of the brandee.

The difference is, in marketing, it's the brander who hurts instead of the brandee.

For the moment, let’s consider this one:

Branding is the process of making one company’s products distinct from similar products offered by competitive companies.

Sure, it’s overly simplistic but let’s go with it for now.

Just as there are hundreds of definitions for branding, there are hundreds of ways to make one product distinct from another. We can invent distinctive, new features and functions, create distinctive, new ways to benefit customers, find distinctive, new ways to communicate about features and benefits (even if those features and benefits are not especially distinctive and new). And we can imbue our products with distinctive, intangible qualities that some customers will find enticing.

But not all customers. The process of making a product distinctive requires us to define exactly who we’re going to try to entice and exactly who we’re going to risk turning off. And that’s why branding – real branding - hurts.

“But, I don’t want to turn my back on potential sales”

Having the guts to walk away from something is just as important as having the fortitude to embrace something. That’s hard to do because “I don’t want to turn my back on potential sales.” But, think about it this way; what if you could be reasonably sure that the “customers” you’re walking away from would never really be your customers anyway? What if you could know that they’re so in thrall to your competitors that spending one more dollar on them would be foolish? And what if you could focus all your attention on people who are most likely to find your offer appealing?**

Bank of America is a 900-pound silverback of a brand. Bank of America can afford to be all things to all people. Or it can afford to try. Wainwright Bank, based in Boston, MA, cannot, so they’ve made the conscious decision to be “the socially responsible bank” (my words, not theirs; don’t come after me, Wainwright folks, I’m a big fan) and to appeal to people who find that enticing. You can follow this link and read in detail how well Wainwright’s doing with this strategy.*** I wouldn’t have used them as an example if their results weren’t pretty remarkable.

Cannibals need love too


If you’re a company with a portfolio of multiple brands, sometimes real branding means letting one of your brands take share from another. Procter & Gamble and Campbell’s Soup are great at this and they’re thriving. Their attitude is “if anybody is going to carve off a chunk of our business, it’s going to be us.” General Motors is lousy at it and, well, we’ve picked on the U.S. auto industry enough.


But, even for marketers who are good at it, it’s painful. For somebody like a CMO, it requires a clear vision, an iron will and the ability to turn a slightly deaf ear to the righteous indignation of the brand managers who are getting cannibalized.


John Mellencamp, marketing strategist


When you do it right, branding hurts. Sometimes it means walking away from what seem like potential sales. Sometimes it means allowing one of your brands to encroach on another, and may the best brand win. But if the real goal of branding is to make what you’re selling distinct from similar offerings from competitors (and, let’s all be real honest, the are a lot of similar offerings available) then the hard choices have to be made by people who are comfortable with discomfort.

Next time you’re facing one of those hard choices, hum a few bars of Hurts So Good. Maybe that will make it easier. But it probably won’t.

_______________

* This post was inspired by my good friend and client, Phil Jones of AGCO Corporation. Thanks, Mr. Jones.

** Exactly how to go about doing this will have to be the subject of a future entry. Short answer: call Drumcircle at 617.395.1636 and ask for Bill.

*** I’ll bet that the Wainwright folks don’t see this as a strategy so much as A Way Of Being. A Mission. A Raison d’être. And that beats a wimpy old strategy any time.

December 12, 2009

We’re all selling “tiny transformations and elements of identity”. Or, at least we should be.

This will be the second entry in six months in which I praise the work of Malcolm Gladwell. But let’s be honest; the man can write about earwax and make it absolutely fascinating. So imagine what he does with the subject of how the marketing of hair dye has evolved since the Eisenhower administration.

Maybe you market roofing nails and maybe you market hair dye. What tiny bit of transformation are you offering your customers that your competitors aren't?

Maybe you market roofing nails and maybe you market hair dye. What tiny bit of transformation are you offering your customers that your competitors aren't?

In Mr. Gladwell’s latest book, What The Dog Saw, in the essay called “True Colors”, he does such an exquisite job of crystallizing what we all do for a living (or what we all should be doing if we’re really good at our jobs) that I’m compelled to share it (not that Mr. Gladwell needs my help to secure his nearly perpetual position on the New York Times Best Sellers List).

This is the kind of material you can quote and have people think you’re one erudite and articulate sucker.

“…all of us, when it comes to constructing our sense of self, borrow bits and pieces, ideas and phrases, rituals and products from the world around us – over-the-counter ethnicities that shape, in some small but meaningful way, our identities. Our religion matters, the music we listen to matters, the clothes we wear matter, the food we eat matters – and our brand of hair dye matters, too.

“…products offer something that songs and poems and political movements and radical ideologies do not, which is an immediate and affordable means of transformation (the italics are mine)”

Sure, the brand of hair dye we choose matters. And so do the brands of soda, financial products, eye drops, farm implements, soup, light bulbs, executive training, life insurance and galvanized roofing nails that we choose. Whatever we’re selling, we’re all purveyors of tiny transformations and elements of identity.

This may strike some of us as a “well, duh.” But, in this case, the well duh is such a beautiful distillation of an important point that I believe it’s worthy of repetition.


And, for others, it may open a fresh eye through which to observe the people we hope to sell to. What tiny transformation are you offering? How does what you sell fit into a persons’ identity (and don’t give me some tired response like “that sort of thing is fine if you’re selling perfume but I’m selling drywall supplies”. That sort of narrow thinking was debunked about the time Decartes’ Error was published).

If you sell life insurance, maybe you can have a small part in transforming a couple of customers from a mom and dad into “good providers.” If you sell roofing nails, perhaps you can help transform some random guy with a hammer into a “creator of shelter.”

It’s fun to think about. Almost as much fun as reading a Malcolm Gladwell book.

December 9, 2009

Why every single brand of insurance, detergent, appliance, light bulb, motor oil, plant food, rental car, investment service and galvanized roofing nail needs “taste copy”.

When I was a young copywriter I had the privilege of working on several Anheuser-Busch beer brands (to be clear, I was one of a small army of young copywriters and art directors sharing that privilege). One of the great parts of that job was attending Beer School, where we learned about the magic of beechwood aging, what several tons of hops and malted barley smell like (delicious), what Clydesdales smell like (also, surprisingly delicious) and the difference between lager and pilsner.

One of the non-great parts of that job, at least to a young copywriter’s  way of looking at the world, was being forced to internalize the sacred mantras of the Anheuser-Busch brands’ “taste copy.”

Whether they were "rich and smooth", "smooth and mellow" or "crisp and clean", as a young copywriter, the mandatory :taste copy" made me nuts. As a not-so-young marketer, I find it not only darned smart, but worthy of stealing.

Whether they tasted "rich and smooth", "smooth and mellow" or "crisp and clean", as a young copywriter, Anheuser-Busch's mandatory taste copy made me nuts. As a not-so-young branding strategist, I find it not only darned smart, but an idea that's well worth stealing.

Each A-B brand had a set of words - mostly adjectives – that were used to describe the particular flavor of that particular brand. Budweiser was always “distinctively crisp and clean.” Michelob was always “smooth and mellow”. Michelob Light was always “rich and smooth.”

Those words were to appear in that order in every piece of communication, whether it was a TV commercial or a coupon ad. And woe betide the high-spirited, creative puppy who took it upon him or herself to “improve” on this situation.

Of course, at the time, being high-spirited, young creative puppies, we rankled under these…rules. Wasn’t it our job to push hard at this boundary? Wasn’t it our duty to rend and sunder rules like these?

In fact, no, it wasn’t.

Especially not if we ever wanted to see our work produced. So, we all grumbled and cracked, dark, cynical jokes and “crisped” and “mellowed” until our fingers grew numb on the dull, gray keys of our beige IBM Selectrics.

Now, flash forward a decade or two and bear witness to this former creative puppy beseeching clients to work together with their researchers, planners and creatives to craft, agree on and enforce the use of “taste copy” for every brand.

Taste copy for every brand of what? Every brand of everything.

As young creatives, all we could see was that the fascistically-dictated taste copy prevented us from stretching our creative wings and describing Michelob as “brisk and refreshing.” What we didn’t see was all the good things the taste copy did:

  • It stopped territorial squabbles between client-side brand teams before they could even start. Budweiser owned crisp and clean. Michelob owned smooth and mellow. Period. There was nothing to discuss. Dismissed. Go sell more beer.
  • It streamlined the work because nobody at the agency or the client got bogged down reacting to focus groups’ opinions about whether or not Michelob Light really tasted “rich”. It did. It said so in the taste copy.
  • And, perhaps best of all, at least from a pure, marketing standpoint, the taste copy enforced consistency of message across all media. And this is where the concept becomes especially relevant today.

Back when I was pecking out the fifteenth variation on Michelob Light for the Winners or This Bu’d For You, “across all media” pretty much meant TV, radio, outdoor and print. Now it means all that plus web, earned, viral, social, guerrilla, buzz and body art. Which is terrific. But since creating content for each of those media can conceivably be handled by a different set of people, enforcing a consistent description of your product, what it does, how it works and what it stands for begins to look a lot less like creative handcuffs and a lot more like common sense.

Please. Use the handcuffs.

The harder trick, of course, is to create the right “copy” - I’m using that term in its loosest sense, to mean the core message that pins a brand in the heart and mind of it’s intended buyer - that not only appeals to the senses, but also to peoples’ need to make emotional connections with the brands they buy. It’s not easy because people are not necessarily willing to admit (in many cases they’re not even aware) that their choice of insurance company, light bulb or analgesic is making a critical emotional connection for them. But finding those connections – or, more specifically, finding where there may be a lack of connection and crafting your brand to make one – is the most important job marketers have in this rip-off-your-features-and-undercut-your-price world.

So, by whatever means possible, discover the emotional connections that your brand can make, craft your “taste copy” accordingly (plug: one real good way to accomplish this is to hire Drumcircle. End of plug), then enforce the use of that copy with draconian ruthlessness. Demand to see it everywhere your brand is written about and to hear it each time your brand is spoken of. Defy anyone to “improve” it.

And if, by chance, somebody does come up with something better, well, buy them a beer.

August 19, 2009

I’m Lovin’ It. Carl’s Jr. Consistently Brings Automatic Weapons To A Knife Fight.

Ladies and gentlemen, The Big Carl. 1,400+ calories and $0.50 less than a wimpy, 700 calorie Big Mac.

Ladies and gentlemen, The Big Carl. 1,400+ calories and $0.50 less than a wimpy, 700 calorie Big Mac.

McDonald’s is McHuge. McGlobal. McMonolithic. So if it’s your job to try to nibble away little chunks of business from Micky D’s, (like, for instance, if you’re the marketing team for Carl’s Jr.), you don’t wake up every morning looking for new ways to play fair.

And, to be fair, they haven’t. Carl’s has probably done the best job of any marketer lately at scoring tons of free eyeball time and brain space by deliberately cultivating outrage through the overt sexualization of sandwiches. It doesn’t matter what I think of their efforts. All that matters is what what burger-loving males between the ages of, say, 14 and 24 with three bucks in their pocket think of them.

OK. I'll admit that I didn't even know who Audrina Patridge is until I reaad that a bunch of mommy bloggers had complained about this Carl's Jr. viral video.

OK. I'll admit that I didn't even know who Audrina Patridge is until I read that a bunch of people were complaining in blogs about this Carl's Jr. "Bikini Burger" viral video. Well, say what you will about Audrina's gold lame swimsuit. Carl's closeup food footage blows the pickles off most of what you see on the air these days. That is a tasty-looking burger.

So, I’m not even going to comment on “Soapy Paris Hilton on a Bentley” or “I Like Flat Buns” (by the way, Carl’s used Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” years before Burger King forced mommies to cover the eyes of their Sponge Bob loving kiddos), because their latest street fightin’ tactic is something that just about everybody in marketing has always dreamed of doing (come on, admit it) but never got to because it was “too risky”, “too hard”, or “we’ll get letters.” And, whatever you think of Audrina Partridge and her “Bikini Burger”, the Carl’s team deserves some serious props for this one.

According to today’s Wall Street Journal, Carl’s has taken to parking a flashy, heavily branded mobile kitchen in front of select McDonald’s restaurants, waylaying customers as they’re walking out and offering to swap Big Macs (Beef content = 3.2oz) for Big Carls (Beef content = 7oz).

And, since Carl’s has learned to use YouTube the way Procter & Gamble uses “One Life To Live”, we can expect to see some juicy footage emerge from this. If they’re really lucky, maybe they’ll catch a McDonald’s manager going all Christian Bale on some innocent kid in a paper hat in the Carl’s Mobile Diner. Good for you, Carl’s team. Fight on. If you had restaurants in Massachusetts, I’d go scarf a couple of Big Angus Burgers (I think those are Paris’ faves) just to say thank you for reminding us all not to be such big, cluckin’ chickens.

July 15, 2009

“Facts are the enemy of truth.” So said Miguel de Cervantes, 16th Century Spanish novelist and, apparently, savvy marketing guy.

I think Seth Godin is a heck of a bright fellow and I especially admire him when he expresses (beautifully) ideas that align with Drumcircle’s worldview.

For example, in his blog today, entitled Facts always win, right?, he writes about how marketers, especially B2B marketers, are far too prone to rely on facts as reasons people should buy their products.

Young man, your presentation on 3/8-inch, high-capacity chisel point staples interested me. But it didn't move me.

Young man, your presentation on 3/8-inch, high-capacity chisel point staples interested me. But it didn't move me.

Says Seth:

“If you’re selling a business to business service and you can prove that it’s better, that it delivers more value, that it’s cheaper or more durable or more efficient, shouldn’t that mean you will close every sale?”

Of course, we all know it doesn’t work that way. Nobody closes every sale. And there are dozens of fat books and scholarly papers on neuroscience, decision-making and marketing that explain why: they’ll never admit it, they’ll probably never even know it, but even the most spreadsheet-obsessed, abacus-wielding, thy-Likert-scale-guideth-and comforteth-me businessperson will still always buy what feels right rather than what - at least according to the manufacturer - is right (a more neuroscientifically accurate way to say it is that we buy what feels right, then convince ourselves that it is right by looking to all those facts).

The truth is, building a sales pitch solely on facts and product attributes is risky. After all, a competitor can drop prices, introduce a more durable product, incorporate a secret ingredient or win some important industry award. Suddenly you’re in a facts arms race. Suddenly, you’re working hard to “out-fact” your competitors instead of outsell them.

Without even knowing it, Seth Godin captures in four paragraphs the potency of what Drumcircle calls Message Architecture™. It’s an important part of how we help clients move from feature/function/fact-driven, transactional marketing to connection-driven, Emotivational™ marketing.

Stick to the facts. Just stick them on the bottom.

Message Architecture isn't advertising copy, but it has been known to inspire more emotionally engaging advertising copy.

Message Architecture isn't advertising copy, but it has been known to inspire more emotionally engaging advertising copy (click the picture for a larger view)

In almost every Drumcircle engagement there’s a session called an Emotivation Workshop. In these half-day sessions, we work together with our clients (and anyone else they’d like to include) to craft a new, more effective Message Architecture for their products or brands.

These new messages are always constructed from the bottom up, in three linguistic “stories”, like the illustration on the left (click it for a version you can actually read).

As with any good structure, Message Architecture has to be built on a firm foundation. In this case, it’s all the facts and features that make what we’re selling great: we’ve got the biggest, fastest, oldest, newest, freshest, lightest, heaviest, you get the picture.

Continuing the architectural analogy, the middle story is where the work gets done. It’s where we elaborate on the benefits customers derive from all those great features and facts in the first layer.

The top layer is derived from a unique, emotional insight discovered during the course of the project. This insight is the answer to the question “what, exactly, does right feel like?”

Whether our client is selling baby shoes, copier paper or auto service, there’s always an emotional need within the potential purchaser that goes much deeper than shoes, paper or an oil change. The closer we can come to acknowledging and filling that need, the more right our offering will feel.

This is how we’ll out-connect, out motivate and outsell competitors.

This is where we’ll demonstrate that We Understand the deep, emotional need.

This is where we’ll make our offering feel right (if our assignment is to help develop a new product concept, we’ll work together to design the new product so that every aspect of it, from components to packaging to promotion, not only feels right, but is right).

We don’t have feelings about facts. We accept the facts that fit our feelings.

It’s important to keep in mind that, while Message Architecture is built from the bottom up, people perceive and react to it from the top down. We Understand makes people look (“Why, they’re speaking directly to me…), We Can Do Great Things For You makes them pay attention (…and they’re telling me things that benefit me, personally) and, finally, We’re Great gives them reason to believe (I knew I was right to look and listen, after all, look how great these people are!).

Facts, features and functions are important parts of marketing communication. But in Message Architecture and in human psychology, they come dead last in the process of making a sale. And that’s good. Because, if some competitor comes in and cuts your facts out from under you, but you’ve done a good job convincing people that you understand and are doing great things for them, that powerful, emotional connection can buy you some time to build yourself some new facts (if you find you even still need them).

July 9, 2009

Malcolm Gladwell, Howard Moskowitz, spaghetti sauce and the end of endless line extensions.

Stop & Shop in Somerville, MA stocks 33 kinds of spaghetti and 87 kinds of pasta sauce. To anyone planning to introducenumbers 34 and 88, respectively, good luck!

Stop & Shop in Somerville, MA stocks 33 kinds of spaghetti and 87 kinds of pasta sauce. To anyone planning to introduce numbers 34 and 88, good luck!

Everybody who works in any phase of marketing in any category from investment counseling to internet routers, farm machinery to pharmaceuticals, horse chow to house paint, furniture to funeral services (you get the picture) should watch this video, take it to heart and share it with colleagues who might either benefit from it or deny its implications (after you’ve finished reading this blog entry, of course).

In the 20-minute video, Malcolm Gladwell, at the TED conference in 2004, makes great points about the fallibility of focus groups, the unreliability of asking consumers directly what they want in a product and the worldview of worms in horseradish. Gladwell is a genius at seeing the deep meaning in tiny things, so you owe it to yourself to watch the video. But, here’s my shot at condensing it to a bloggable blip:

It was the early 1980’s. The time of “just say no”, Rubik’s Cubes, Pac-Man and Flashdance.

Second-place spaghetti sauce manufacturer, Prego had a can’t-miss plan. They’d have Psychophysicist Dr. Howard Moskowitz determine the formulation for the “perfect” spaghetti sauce, with the flavor and texture that was most liked by the most people. Then, in one swoop, they’d unseat category leader Ragu.

But Dr. Moskowitz’s proved (to Prego’s initial dismay) there was no such thing as one perfect sauce, and that if Prego created a sauce that hit the “sweet spot” between the different sauces that different people liked, they’d have a sauce that millions would find acceptable, but nobody would love.

Dr. Moskowitz still saved the day, though. He went on to prove that if Prego looked at people not as one, big group of spaghetti sauce consumers, but as a groups of people who clustered around particular spaghetti sauce traits, then made multiple kinds of sauce, they could divide the market and conquer Ragu.

Thus was created Prego Extra Chunky, and thus was Ragu moved to the number two position in the category.

Now, embracing and exploiting* the diversity of an audience’s desired product attributes is a standard, common part of almost every marketer’s tool kit these days. We use this tool to design new products, seize shelf space (in the case of CPG’s) and brain space (in the case of just about everything other product or service) and to focus marketing programs more accurately.

So I’m going to make a bold assertion that this tool is, in fact, so standard and common that it just might be losing its effectiveness.

Consider:

  • In The Paradox of Choice, Barry Schwartz, a sociologist at Swarthmore, makes a pretty darned convincing argument that today’s abundance of choices (a good thing, right?) is, in fact, an excess of choices (he describes the shelves of his local supermarket groaning with 85 kinds of crackers, 21 “different” kinds of chocolate chip cookies, 75 kinds of iced tea, a dozen different choices of Pringles, 29 different chicken soups, and goes on to cite similar examples in just about every business category from financial services to health care plans) that bewilders, overwhelms and actually causes symptoms of depression in many people.

Graphic from the The Wall Street Journal, Jube 26, 2009

Graphic from The Wall Street Journal, June 26, 2009

  • According to The Wall Street Journal, (June 26, 2009), These Challenging Economic Times** may already be alleviating some of that problem, because many retailers are cutting way back on the variety of products they’re allowing onto their shelves (Walgreen’s is cutting the types of superglues it carries to 11 from 25. Wal-Mart is dropping 20 of the 24 different tape measures it sells. Kroger is eliminating about 30% of its cereal varieties).

The time is fast approaching, if it’s not already here, when marketers are no longer going to be able to line-extend their way to success. Tossing product features and consumer traits into the Cuisinart isn’t going to pass for “innovation.”

We’re all going to need to learn new ways to design products that are both relevant to and resonant with consumers who are more discerning, less willing to spend and just plain weary of having to chose between zip front and button fly, boot cut and standard leg, athletic fit and trim fit, stone washed and acid washed, just to buy a pair of pants.

________________________

*By the way, I’m sick and tired of “exploit” being considered a bad word. This is the definition according Microsoft Encarta:

exploit: verb [ trans. ] : make full use of and derive benefit from (a resource), noun : a bold or daring feat

Neither of those are bad things. I hereby reclaim this perfectly useful word for the forces of goodness and clarity.

**Henceforth in this blog, this irritatingly overused set of words will simply be abbreviated as “TCET”.

June 8, 2009

Recommending Best Practices to Positively Impact the Verbiage-Based Communication Space

Filed under: Marketing Language, People — Tags: , , , — admin @ 5:27 pm
small-hmmm-woman

I'm imagining inserting a pushpin into this guy "at every possible touchpoint."

About three weeks ago, I launched a thoroughly unscientific survey on Facebook to identify the 25 most clichéd, credibility-wrecking examples of Biz-Buzzpeak that people are coming across in conference rooms and the Barnes & Noble “Business and Money” section these days.

I’m talking about words and phrases that, when they come out of a person’s mouth, immediately make you subtract about 40 points from that person’s estimated IQ.  You know, terms that make you think, “If that man says ‘optimize’, ‘empower’ or ‘go-to-market’ one more time, I’m going to force-feed him that PowerPoint clicker.”

So, here’s the list (alphabetized because, as I said, it’s an unscientific survey). Please keep in mind, I’m just reporting the data, not passing judgment, and, if anybody ever hears me use one of these terms, know in advance that I’m using it “ironically”.

  1. Anything “2.0”
  2. Best Practices
  3. Center of Excellence (personally, I’ll be happy to be part of a Center of Extreme Adequacy)
  4. Change Agent
  5. Circle Back
  6. Client/Customer Centric Strategy
  7. Continuous Conversation/Improvement
  8. Core Competency
  9. Dialogue (as a verb)
  10. Eco Anything
  11. Inclusion
  12. In The _________ Space (Example: “We’re having a game-changing impact in the emulsified, starchy-tuber-based, salty snacks space” instead of “we’re selling a lot more potato chips”)
  13. In today’s (Choose at least one from (1) and one from (2))
    1. globalized / challenging / recession-ravaged / interconnected / high-speed
    2. economy / society / workplace / world / corporation
  14. Let’s Take This Offline (translation: “I need some time to come up with a better response than “oh, yeah?!”)
  15. Low-Hanging Fruit
  16. Maximize
  17. Relative to _________ (as in “…how people feel relative to cufflinks” instead of “…how people feel about cufflinks”)
  18. Stakeholder
  19. The iPod of ________ (as in, “We believe we’ve created the iPod of galvanized roofing nails.”)
  20. Thought-Leader
  21. Touch Base
  22. Touchpoint
  23. Turnkey Solutions
  24. Traction (unless describing tires)
  25. Value Proposition

Here’s a thought: when a person uses a phrase like “optimizing throughput”, there’s a good chance that 50% of the people in the room will think he sounds smart and the other 50% will roll their eyes (most will do this in their imaginations, but it doesn’t matter, the damage is done). If that same person says “”becoming more efficient”, nobody will roll their eyes.

_________________

22210991NOTE: This entry was inspired by the excellent and tiny book Why Businesspeople Speak Like Idiots by Brian Fugere, Chelsea Hardaway, and Jon Warshawsky. The book has been around a few years and some of the jargon has changed, but based on the way we hear a lot of people talking, the subject matter is still relevant.

So, before you buy another book that purports to tell you how to create win-win scenarios by seizing the long tail of downstream, value-added, best-of-breed, seamlessly-integrated strategies, buy this book so you’ll be able to tell people what you’ve done, in a way that won’t have at least half of them rolling their eyes.

June 6, 2009

Hey. Check it out. The New York Times no longer has “readers”.

Filed under: Consumers, Marketing Language, Media — Tags: , , , , — admin @ 8:36 pm
Photo of a man using a newspaper

Photo of a man using a newspaper

When we founded Drumcircle in 2008, my partner Anne and I set out on a quixotic mission to eliminate the term “consumer” from the lexicon of our industry (there’s a whole page on our website devoted to the subject, in fact).

Just substituting the word “people” for “consumers” will instantly make every one of us better at our jobs. It just makes sense. Thinking about people instead of consumers will give us all one less chance to forget that it’s breathing, brains, blood and bone individuals, just like you and me, but nothing like you and me, that we’re dealing with here.

We have to get a person’s attention. We have to connect with that person at a level he may not even have direct access to himself. Then we have to change, reinforce or create something new within that person.

So, today, I came across this in Creativity Online:

“Why The New York Times Doesn’t Call Its Readers ‘Readers’

“In a world of near-ubiquitous computing, where an ever-expanding collection of devices turns readers into…co-creators and distributors, The New York Times…(needs to turn)…its readers into, well, something more.

Speaking at the CaT: Creativity and Technology conference today, Derek Gottfrid, senior software architect and product technologist at The New York Times, said the company has quit calling online readers “readers,” instead referring to them as users.”

Until now, only software developers and drug dealers have referred to the people they sell their merchandise to as “users”. So this is a big step forward. Congratulations to the folks at the venerable Gray Lady who were in the meeting where this decision was made. This is exactly the kind of thinking that’s keeping newspapers in their current state of relevance in today’s dynamic media climate.

Come on, people.

June 5, 2009

Who does Bill Mount think he is to name his blog that? And, for that matter, who is Bill Mount?

Yes, I named my blog “Sermon From The Mount”.  And, to explain why, I’m about to severely date myself. But it’ll be worth it if I can remind the world of one of the greatest trade advertising campaigns ever.

From sometime in the 1970’s to sometime in the 1990’s, The Wall Street Journal ran a series of more than 100 ads aimed directly at the people responsible for filling the newspaper’s pages and coffers: ad agencies. The campaign ran in just four publications: Advertising Age, Adweek/Mediaweek and the WSJ itself. It was called Creative Leaders and each full-page ad was a long-copy quasi-interview that explored the roots, philosophies and general worldview of an exalted figure in the Advertising Creative Pantheon.

All were minimally designed and beautifully written, but, bizarrely, had these goofy, get-you-flunked-out-of-University-of-Texas-School-of-Advertising, bad-pun headlines: Ed McCabe’s ad was headlined “The Real McCabe”. Lee Clow’s was “Clow, as in Wow”.  Penny Hawkey’s was “Penny For Your Thoughts”. Lois Korey’s was “Korey’s Story” (you can see the whole campaign – and I encourage you to do so after you’ve finished reading this – here at the Advertising Educational Foundation website).hawkey1

Naturally, all of us young creative guys (of which I was one during most of the years the campaign ran) devoured every word of every ad and, much like wannabe baseball players imagine themselves batting cleanup in the World Series and ‘tween girls doodle “Mrs. Zac Efron” on their notebooks*, we all spent an absurd amount of time dreaming up often viciously insulting bad-pun headlines for each others’ eventual Wall Street Journal Creative Leader ads.

Now, I remember some of the headlines we came up with for one another and, don’t worry, guys (and you know who you are) I won’t reproduce them here since I don’t have permission from my former colleagues to use their names. But I certainly remember many of the headlines my creative buddies came up with for me. Some of the G-Rated ones included “A Mound of Mount”, “Bill Shills” and “Five-Dollar Bill.” I also remember the day a young art director, fresh out of (you guessed it) The University of Texas School of Advertising, poked her head into my office and told me that she had the perfect headline for my WSJ ad. “Sermon From The Mount”.

An ACD who was sitting in my office at the time rolled his eyes and delivered, with absolutely flat affect, the withering put-down, “That’s not funny. That’s actually decent.”

About fifteen years have passed. The Wall Street Journal doesn’t run that campaign any more and I’ve been out of the Ad Guy Business for quite a while. This blog is about the last place that not funny but decent headline is going to have a chance for exposure. It certainly isn’t intended to imply that this blog will be filled with sermonizing. But I hate to waste material (especially if I didn’t have to think it up in the first place) and it’s a chance to say thanks for a good idea to a really talented art director (and you know who you are).

As for the “who is Bill Mount” part, please go here for my official Drumcircle bio and here for my Facebook page.

* Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m ready. Bring it. I place this link here for anybody who questions the painful but undeniable truth of my reporting

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