Getting people to care about your new or new-ish product.

We’re all familiar with the “generate buzz and increase trial” brief.  We often see it for new product launches, or to help give a lift to relatively new products that haven’t yet taken off with consumers.  A very simple re-framing of the challenge can make that brief a lot more human-centered and interesting.

Instead of “increase trial”, make it “give the target a good reason to try Product X.”
Instead of “generate buzz”, make it “give people a good reason to talk about Product X.”

Like Sid Lee and adidas did with this awesome launch of just another running shoe in France.

Interesting people (update)

To my absolute surprise and pleasure, I received a message from a man named John Currie after publishing my most recent blog post on “Interesting people”. It turns out that John is “the QR code guy” in the picture that accompanied that post. He’s been canvasing the streets surrounding creative agencies lately in an effort to connect with people who might be interested in what he has to offer as a motion graphics producer.

Passers-by who scan the QR code on John’s front/back will be directed to his body of work. John is essentially demonstrating what he has to offer a creative organization; rather than passively shopping his resume around, he’s actively showcasing his perspective on creativity and engagement in today’s world.

What a brilliant idea, and a perfect example of unignorable thinking. To follow John’s pursuits and learn more about his story, check out his blog at http://stalkingthejob.blogspot.ca.

John Currie, a.k.a. “The QR Code Guy”

Interesting people.

I was taking a little stroll around the block the other day when I came across the guy pictured below…

…and for one of the first times in my life I became interested in scanning a QR code.

What was it about this otherwise non-descript man that made me interested in taking the effort to scan him? Why did I want to learn more about whatever it was that he was hoping to communicate rather than all the other messages that were (and are) constantly competing for my attention?

It was a combination of two things, I think.

1) People are inherently more interesting than brands. Advertisers have known this for a long time, which is why hiring the right spokesperson to represent a brand has traditionally been one of the best ways to change or improve its perception. We care about other human beings – even ones we don’t know. We want to know their stories. We wonder what they’re thinking, feeling, doing. People provide us with ideas and perspectives that are important assets in a world where social interactions are fundamental to survival and success.

With the sheer amount of brands in the marketplace today, it can be very difficult for us to differentiate one from another – if for no other reason than we simply don’t care enough to make such categorizations. Gareth Kay spoke to this fact during his presentation on “Radicalism” in Toronto last week, noting recent studies that suggest brands in 4 out of 5 categories are seen as “increasingly homogenous” and that regular folk think that less than 1 in 10 ads today are different from one another (to see Gareth’s full presentation, go here…it is excellent). But it’s very easy for us to differentiate people from one another, to notice when a person does something unique or out of the ordinary. And it’s all the more powerful when we can experience that uniqueness rather than simply watching, reading, or hearing about it. This is a nice little feather in the cap of experiential marketing that puts people, and not just things, at its core.

2) He didn’t care whether I scanned him or not. He wasn’t pushy. In fact, he acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, as if he weren’t walking around wearing a big QR code on his front and back, asking everyone to scan it.

It’s natural for us to be more interested in things that aren’t overtly interested in us. This is why “hard-to-get” is a game we often play with one another during courtship, and why we become almost immediately turned off by someone who seems too interested. Surely, we think, anyone who is that interested must be desperate; it must not be worth it to spend time on them.

Yet, most marketers ignore this basic human truth. So often we lay it on thick with people in a desperate attempt to get their attention and to try to make them care about us, when the truth is that this strategy is, more of than not, entirely counter-productive. If we want to create relationships between brands and people, we’d all do well to acknowledge the manner in which people create relationships with one another.

Pinterest is a good recent example of a brand tapping into our psychology of attraction. By making us wait days to receive an invitation to join their social networking site, they appear confident, in demand, and powerful. It says, “we don’t need you, so just wait a couple of days and we’ll see if it’s worth it for us to let you in on our world.” And because of the laws of attraction, we wait and feel excited when we’re accepted.

Two good questions come to mind, then, in evaluating a new communication idea:

1) Can we make this idea stronger by using people as a vehicle through which to deliver the brand’s message?

2) Are we behaving discreetly enough to actually attract people? Could we make this idea more interesting by leveraging the laws of attraction?

Relationships-on-demand.

Here’s an interesting ad from Future Shop as part of their recent back-to-school campaign:

I find the ad interesting for a couple of reasons: firstly, because of the degree to which its representation of the university experience contrasts with my memory of what actually made university so exciting; and secondly, because of the comment it makes on the nature of connection today.

Future Shop’s agenda is clear: they want to let frosh everywhere know that they are Canada’s foremost technology supplier, offering products that promise to be the perfect partner for any kid going off to school who wants to stay “tapped in” in an age of hyper-connectivity.  They’re promising a better social experience at university through products that facilitate connection.

Fair enough.  I can buy into that argument on a rational level.  But take a good look at the ad and its depiction of “connection.”  What we see here is a young guy in what appears to be a vacant library.  He looks to be reading or writing a paper on his laptop, and he is completely alone.  Just as we notice him, he smiles, closes his laptop, and puts it away in his backpack.  Once that’s done with, he immediately pulls out a tablet to check in on some basketball highlights, before slinging his bag over his shoulder and making for the exit.  Now outside, he quickly throws on some headphones (the perfect things to wear if you want to ensure that you do not connect with anyone while walking outside) before scurrying away, presumably back to his residence where he can pull the laptop or tablet back out of his bag and continue to…stay connected.

Connected to what?  To whom?  There isn’t even a hint of another human being in this ad.  And this is first-year university we’re talking about.

The ad is a perfect example of what psychoanalyst, technology and society specialist, and MIT professor Sherry Turkle writes about in her recent book, Alone Together: Why We Expect More From Technology and Less From Each Other.  Turkle argues that our relationships with our devices are strengthening while our relationships with the people they’re meant to connect us with are weakening significantly.  She suggests that, more than anything else, we find these devices so attractive because they help us connect entirely on our own terms.  They help us maintain control and avoid vulnerability.

And, ultimately, the devices become the “other” that we want to relate to.

In Praise of Conflict

“This one’s about telling a great story…”

It’s a phrase we’ve all heard often enough in the world of marketing.  And for good reason: it’s true.  Regardless of the product, regardless of the category, the brand with the best story wins.

For clients and agencies alike, then, the object is clear: become really, really good storytellers.  If the best story wins, then stories are our lifeblood.  No one (save novelists, poets, and screenwriters) should spin a better yarn than marketers.

But the unfortunate reality is that most marketers simply aren’t good storytellers.  In fact, they’re bad storytellers.  And, as a result, most brands don’t stand a chance.  If not altogether ignored in the marketplace, many are forced to suffer the indignity of being mocked by the very people they’re meant to appeal to.

Why do so many marketers tell awful stories?  I think the problem is that there is often a serious lack of thought and feeling put into the most central element of any great story: the conflict.

Conflict is essential to plot; in fact, without conflict, there technically is no plot.  Conflict represents the struggle that needs to be overcome, the desire that longs to be fulfilled.  Think about those two words.  Struggle.  Desire.  They are at the very core of the human condition.  Yet, the human condition is blatantly absent from many brand stories today.

It’s precisely because we don’t live in Pleasantville that insights into the human condition are so vitally important to great storytelling.  Our lives are literally defined by conflicts – be they cultural, interpersonal, or internal.  To actually mean something to people, brands need to prove that they understand those conflicts, and can play a role within them.

This means focusing on more than just functional benefits; it means being very honest about how your brand might benefit people emotionally.  What is truly happening in your customers’ lives that makes this branded product (or service or experience) useful?  What are people struggling with, and how can this brand help?  Out of all the invisible, intangible things that people look for in life every day, what can this brand act as a surrogate for?

For Wiser’s Whisky, it’s about helping guys cope with the feeling that when they embrace the conventional tenets of adulthood (career, marriage, etc.) they’re subtly forced to compromise part of what it means to be a guy.  For Cashmere bathroom tissue, it’s about helping women feel stylish and indulged in a world where women so rarely have time to put themselves first.  And so on.  Insights into human conflicts become the basis of compelling stories.

Great stories are crafted with precision.  It takes effort and understanding to creatively interpret a brand’s role within a person’s life; and you must always fight the urge to avoid or underestimate the role that conflict has to play in the story.  Embrace conflict.  Make it your best friend.  Lest you find that in an effort to tell a great story, you wind up not telling one at all.

This post was also published on The Blog of john:  http://theblogofjohn.com/

Speakers’ Corner

Remember Speakers’ Corner?  Sure you do.  It was a staple on CityTV (along with its sister station MuchMusic) throughout the ’90s and most of the 2000s, until its ultimate cancellation in August, 2008.

The premise, you’ll remember, was simple: set up a booth on the corner of a busy street (in the photo above, at the corner of Queen and John in Toronto), charge people a buck to step inside and get the stabilized camera recording, and then let them speak their minds for about two minutes on whatever topic they like.  Often, people would rant.  We’d hear all about what pissed them off.  Others told stories.  Others rambled about what they were up to that day, seemingly happy to hear their own voices and to think that other people might be listening and following along.

Now here’s an interesting fact that you perhaps didn’t know (I didn’t…): the Speakers’ Corner concept wasn’t created by Moses Znaimer, as brilliant as he was to turn it into an interactive TV show.  In fact, the concept dates back to 19th century England.  Wikipedia describes it as such:

“A Speakers’ Corner is an area where open-air public speaking, debate, and discussion are allowed.  The original and most noted is in the north-east corner of Hyde Park in London, England.  Speakers there may speak on any subject, as long as the police consider their speeches lawful.”

Speakers' Corner today

Stemming from public riots that broke out in 1855 over a bill which forbade the buying and selling of goods on Sundays (the only day most labourers had off), there became a growing desire for “the right to speak” about this and other issues in an organized, public space.  “Speakers’ Corner” in Hyde Park became that place, officially, in 1872.  In the 140 or so years since its inception, the original Speakers’ Corner has seen its fair share of speakers, heavyweights among them.  According to Wikipedia, it was frequented by Karl Marx, Vladimir Lenin, George Orwell, and William Morris, amongst others.

Now, I take you on this little journey through the past because the notion of a Speakers’ Corner seems like yet another great way to make sense of what’s going in today’s media landscape.  Take a look at Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, or any other social networking platform, and then take a look back at Speakers’ Corner and its predecessor in Hyde Park.  Each of these platforms fulfill the same set of core desires.  Today’s social networking platforms are so phenomenally popular because they are, in essence, customizable, free, always-accessible, personal versions of Speakers’ Corner.  We use them to rant, share stories, or blabber about what we’re up to.  We get satisfaction from the idea that our voices are being listened to, just as Speakers’ Corners users did.  And unlike the CityTV show where we’d have to wait weeks for a reply to our thoughts (if we were fortunate enough to get a reply and the producers felt it was worthy of being aired), now we can get replies almost instantly.  YouTube is the clearest successor of the Speakers’ Corner show, but what it provides us with at a high level is essentially the same as any other social networking platform: the opportunities to be listened to and to listen to others.

So the next time someone says, “I don’t get people who use Twitter”, just let them know that for those people, Twitter is the platform that, for any host of reasons, best meets their desire to be listened to and to listen to others.  And the next time a client asks, “Why should I care about what’s going on on Facebook?”, just let them know that Facebook is the world’s new, connected version of Speakers’ Corner.  It’s where people go to be listened to and to listen to others.  If that client wants her brand to be in any way relevant to those very people, then she better start listening in.  And maybe, if she listens closely enough, she’ll recognize an opportunity to make her brand’s voice worthy of being listened to as well.

Moses Znaimer knows all of this, of course.  He cited “the emergence of other interactive media” as the reason for canceling Speakers’ Corner back in 2008.

Analysis of a Curious Truck Accessory

I was driving along the Lakeshore this past weekend when I found myself directly behind a pick-up truck with a curious adornment on its towing hitch.  I stared at the adornment for about ten seconds before I became convinced that I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing.  I pulled out my iPhone 3G to take a picture.  Now, the iPhone 3G has a pretty shitty camera that loses focus easily.  You have to keep it very, very still.  Unfortunately for me, the guy driving the truck started weaving in and out of traffic just as I was balancing the camera to take a picture of his towing hitch.  I managed to get one clear shot of the truck, narrowly avoiding a couple of accidents along the way.  See the image below.

Look closely at the towing hitch, reader.  What you see there is a smiling skull, under which hang two large steel testicles.

In your life, have you ever seen a car accessory that tells you so much about the driver’s personality as this one does?  I think it’s worthy of a semiotic analysis.  The driver of this truck went out of his way to purchase this sign and communicate some messages.  Here’s what I think he’s trying to say:

1) Firstly, to all you wieners in your compact cars, you cowards in your SUVs, and you rich assholes in your sports cars: stay the fuck away from me or I will unleash the pain.  I’m a big, aggressive man and am happy to fight you if you want to fight me.

2) Just to build on that first point, let me be very clear about something.  If you’re not driving a pick-up, you’re not really a man.  This is what a man drives, boys.  Don’t believe me?  Take a look at these steel balls hanging from my towing hitch.  Does your car have steel balls?  Didn’t think so.  Look, if you feel uncomfortable around me, that’s probably normal.  Boys should be uncomfortable around men.

3) To all the ladies who are looking for a man but are stuck in cars with boys: I’m available – always.  And trust me, we would have a good time.  I’m huge.  Like, really, really big.  I’m for sure bigger than the loser you’re riding with.  Just look at the size of these steel balls hanging from my towing hitch.

4) To the single ladies: I’m available – always.  See above.

5) As you can see from points 3 and 4, I have a tenuous relationship with women.  It’s not that I necessarily hate them, it’s just that I think men and women really only have one thing to offer one another.  That’s why I have a skull face with testicles for its body hanging from my towing hitch.  Because if I’m going to send any sort of message to a woman, I want it to be the only message she’ll actually care about seeing.

How’d I do?  Did I miss anything?

Random, Proposterous Spokesmen

As far as I know, it all started with Chuck Norris.  The 71 year-old American martial artist (you read that correctly…Chuck Norris is 71) with a “tough guy” image that didn’t quite fit in the same world as Schwarzenegger, Stallone, or even Van Damme.   The humor came from this guy who truly was a kick-ass fighter taking on lame roles like Walker, Texas Ranger.  Someone, somewhere, tapped into what all of us guys were already thinking: “Chuck Norris is hilarious because he’s ridiculous when he’s not trying to be.”  Soon the fastest-growing Internet meme was the Chuck Norris “fact” – proposterous, logic-defying things that were said to be true about Chuck Norris.  Eventually the Chuck Norris Facts site was born, and now we’ll forever be able to remember that Chuck Norris “can roundhouse kick people with his fists.”

It seemed like it was about six months later that we were all introduced to Dos Equis through its enigmatic and charismatic spokesman – affectionately known as “The Most Interesting Man in the World” – who impressed us with his unflinching confidence, his ability to speak French in Russian, and other proposterous, logic-defying feats that were always presented to us as facts.  The Most Interesting Man in the World was, of course, an exercise in taking an Internet meme and popularizing it for the mainstream.  In turn, it cemented in all our minds (not the least of which were the minds of Creative Directors North America over, as we’ll see shortly) that a new kind of male icon had been born: the random, proposterous superhero who is paradoxically human and makes no bones about being a man’s man.

The biggest advertising sensation of 2009, the Dos Equis guy was paid homage to with 2010’s biggest advertising sensation: the Old Spice Guy.  Unlike Chuck Norris and The Most Interesting Man in the World, Old Spice Guy vocalized his exploits himself rather than having them narrated by a third-party.  He also participated with consumers in a very real way on Twitter and YouTube.  More tongue-in-cheek that those who came before him, Old Spice Guy kept the random, proposterous spokesman theme fresh by interacting with us in unique ways and by being even more overt about the fact that intellectual exploits are as impressive and awesome as physical exploits.  After all, “anything is possible” when you use Old Spice.

But then a weird thing happened.  Rather than simply applaud the respective agencies behind both campaigns for doing such a good job of appropriating the meme, a number of agencies said to themselves, “You know, people seem to love it when a brand has a random, proposterous spokesman.  We should make our own version of Old Spice Guy for our clients’ brands.”

So we witnessed the epic failure that was Pat Prefontaine from Telus – an ad so blatantly and poorly ripping off Old Spice Guy that it was immediately ripped to shreds by all who saw it, and is now blocked from being viewed on YouTube.

And we met FedEx guy, who managed to jump on the bandwagon without pissing us off because the situations and casting were excellent.

There have probably been more.  But the most recent one I’ve seen – and the worst one, in my opinion, since the Telus fiasco – is from Dairy Queen.

It never ceases to amaze me how uncreative the creative industry can be.  Rather than ripping off the successes of other campaigns, why not analyze what people loved about them so much and use those principles to inform the way you set strategy?  Do these agencies honestly think that people watching their ad don’t see it as a complete rip off of the original?  Are they unbelievably ignorant of unbelieveably arrogant?

Great work isn’t easy; it takes a lot of thought and understanding to do something truly innovative.  What a shame that so many agencies get paid to do the opposite.

Hardcore Metal and Extreme Distinction

I have a couple of teenage cousins in high school.  We’ve all “friended” one another on Facebook – which is cool, because we’re cousins and it’s nice to acknowledge that connection rather than ignore it, even if we don’t interact that often and have very different social networks.  But it’s also cool, for me at least, because it allows me to stay up on what’s going on with teenagers today.  I can scan their Walls, look for trends in their discussions with friends, analyze which websites and memes they’re using as social capital and why, and look for style and image themes.

One trend I’ve noticed a handful of times now – one that is clear from the lives of my own cousins but also from the discussions they’re having with their network of friends –  is an appreciation amongst teenage guys for what is most commonly described as “death metal.”

You hear the word “death metal”, and an image comes to mind of the kind of people who listen to it.  You think of guys like this:

"Metal is life."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And so you’d perhaps be a little surprised (as I was) that these kids actually present an image more like this:

The same kids who discuss with friends (for their entire social network to see) the degree to which a song by All Shall Perish or Molotov Solution “owns” wear Hollister hoodies and fashion their hair pretty much exactly like Justin Bieber.

I’ve wondered for a little while why this might be, because it’s certainly inconsistent with behaviour that I observed when I was their age. What does death metal, arguably the most aggressive genre of music available, offer these kids that they can’t get from indie rock, hip hop, pop, dance, house, or any of the other genres that kids use to mark their territory in a highly competitive environment?

If this style of music seems at odds with the otherwise squeaky clean image that these kids are presenting to the world, maybe that’s the whole point.  Kids have always used taste in music to express their individuality and to hint at a rebellious nature.  When everyone feels such huge pressure to look acceptable, why not radically differentiate yourself with an aggressively “unacceptable” taste in music?  Sure, Jack Black is probably right when he says that “you’re not hardcore unless you live hardcore”, but to hell with Jack Black.  You need to do something to show that you’re not actually like Justin Bieber, that you don’t actually like Justin Bieber and that kind of music, even if you model your image after him in an attempt to get a little bit of what he has (a phenomenal amount of adoration from the same girls you’re competing with others to attract).

It’s like, “Girls, don’t be fooled by what you see here.  Sure, I look like those other guys, but trust me, I’m different.  Don’t believe me?  Check out this hardcore music video that I’m sharing with a friend on Facebook for everyone (including you) to see.”

Brand Ideologies

Here’s a great blog post from StrawberryFrog’s Scott Goodson for Harvard Business Review.  Goodson writes about the tendency of a brand’s idea and purpose (what it stands for and believes in) to fall into generic ad speak.  It’s simply too commonplace today for us to hear about what a brand stands for.  Even if it’s a unique value system, it just sounds like we’ve heard it before.  So, instead of thinking about what your brand stands for, Goodson suggests that you think about what the brand stands against.  As he notes, sometimes you can get to a much more provocative and unique idea by thinking about what you passionately don’t want to be.

I’ve had a lot of success with this exact technique.  For anyone doubting its power, take a look at Rob Ford’s election campaign.  Ford defined what he stood for by consistently harping about what he stands against (irresponsible spending and the “gravy train” mentality).  He was elected in a landslide victory by citizens who, until Ford came on the map, hadn’t realized how passionate they were about municipal politics and making their voices heard.  Ford’s timely and decisive “brand ideology” ignited that passion.