"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.

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).

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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