The Drama of the Data

Screenwriters use the phrase “on the nose” to describe dialogue too literal to be believable. Having observed that people express their deepest emotions indirectly, a good screenwriter conveys young love through the intimacy of a lover’s conversation—a conversation in which no one says “Oh, how I love you, my Darling!”

For exactly the same reasons, any “on the nose” interpretation of research data is just as unlikely to move your audience. This is especially true today, when every square inch of our environment is saturated with advertising. People know when they’re being sold—despite any attempt to camouflage sales tactics with an ill-fitting Cloak of Invisibility. If trumpeting product benefits was ever effective, that time is past. Even 50 years ago, I suspect that headlines like…

Tired of Vacuuming the Old Fashioned Way?

…were merely tolerated. People weren’t stupid back then, either—but advertising certainly was. In fact, I see every marketing innovation of the last 50 years as an outgrowth of a single realization: People are far more intelligent than traditional marketing theory allows.

That’s why I start each project by wondering what my audience has on its mind—and leave the bullet points for later. As the people at Shamwow recognize, effective marketing depends on your ability to summon the emotions surrounding a core human need.

The Shamwow announcer personifies the wow-factor, but the messaging grows out of a single, emotionally charged cultural value: Messy spills are disgusting and a terrible waste of time.

Lucky for me, I’ve never been asked to hawk products in this way, but my approach is the same. Whether it’s a promise of financial protection or eternal youth, I also have to dig beneath the surface of that promise, to discover the emotions at its core.

Like a screenwriter. however, I can’t stop there. I base my approach on direct observation of how people talk to themselves about those emotions. Instead of writing “on the nose,” I need to trigger the same response the topic itself triggers in my audience.

The current campaign for the American Express charge card puts this principle in practice. The headline:

“Don’t Take Chances, Take Charge”

...appeals to anxiety about fraud, loss and theft and opens the door to a clever series of images, in which consumers’ purchases echo their feelings. This shows what can happen when you go beyond a literal statement of market research. Instead of leading with:

Worried About Fraud, Loss and Theft When You Use Your Debit Card?

...they’ve evoked emotion rather than talking about it, word for word.

Sure, “fraud, loss and theft” might have turned up in focus groups and SEM analytics. Taken out of subtext, however, the drama of the data never makes it to the screen.

“Keep the Client Happy”

Hang out in ad agencies for any length of time and you’re bound to run into conflicting ideologies. The people you work with come from so many different backgrounds, it’s hard to find two people who look at their role in the industry in exactly the same way.

Among the many fissures in advertising culture, however, none is more disruptive than the Servant/Consultant divide. It’s a rift cutting across all departments. Agency types wage siege war over this issue—like mythical beasts, competing for the soul of a troubled hero. Where’s the battleground? It’s on the disputed territory between What the Client Wants and What the Client Needs.

The conflict really boils over on that fateful day when your client conceives a truly misguided project. You’re asked to create a pig-headed trout with eagle’s wings—a monster of dysfunctional engagement sure to deliver consumers into a competitor’s hands.

The fact that your client is also asking you to “find efficiencies” to save time and money just makes you reach for the Pepto-Bismol that much faster.

Running into the problem by running away from it.
There are three classic responses to this dilemma:

• Denial. No matter how misguided the project, some people will always assert it’s achievable. “If we all just pull together…” goes the dreary refrain. It’s how those in Denial signal their willingness to throw common sense out the window, just to “keep the client happy.”


• Refusal, a tactic that, while untenable in a business environment, expresses itself throughout the project in foot-dragging, excuse-making and subtle forms of sabotage.


• Compromise, in which agencies agree to do a less dysfunctional version of the project, modified just enough to save them from embarrassment.

Mind you, this monster will still be a major drain on resources. And it will still teach junior team members that industry standards don’t really matter—if violating them will “keep the client happy.”

Client management? Not so much.
As I see it, all three of these responses are the outgrowth of failed client management. In a healthy client relationship, an agency would think nothing of advising a client against this pet project from Hell.

Trouble is, agencies often woo clients like desperate teenagers on a first date. Of course, promising a lifetime of servitude for just one kiss is a mistake most kids make only once. In an agency environment, however, grown men and women strike similarly self-erasing deals every day.

Wherever you are on this issue, ask yourself this: If your goal is keeping clients happy, what makes clients happier than success? It follows that your goal should also be to steer them away from strategies that invite disaster.

We’ve all seen the havoc that the “Fries with that?” mentality wreaks with the quality of our work. I say, “Enough.” We serve our clients best by leading them to new ideas—and by taking a stand against everything dysfunctional, deceitful and downright stupid.

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A Tail of E-Tail (Conclusion)

While nowhere as subtly branded as the IKEA site I explored in my previous post, the innovative marketer, Amazon.com gives the experience of shopping online a bit more dimension.

Once users select a product from the site’s visually unappealing display, they gain access, indirectly, to a community of shoppers with similar interests. Through user’s comments, and Amazon’s data-driven advisories, visitors learn what others think of a product and what other related products others have most often purchased.

Of course, this sense of community is limited. Users can’t build networks of friends on the site and conversation is confined to the “call and response” rhythms of post and counter post.

And yet, the effect is a lot the same. Book buyers, in particular, benefit from this expanded shopping experience, since it seems people who read more also write more. Don’t quote me on that, because I’d hate to be tagged as a spreader of incriminating rumors in a world moving uncomfortably close to Fahrenheit 451.

Heaven sakes alive, these people actually relish ideas. They think and feel deeply about abstractions and eventually come to understand the difference between ideas and idiots.

Amazon, river of data...
A typical page from Amazon’s extensive book-mart is a microsite, offering the book in every available format, including, naturally, the Kindle edition. You may also find a video feature on the author. And in true Web 2.0 spirit, user reviews jockey for position with “Editorial Reviews” from professional critics. But wait, there’s more. You can even sign up to receive personalized recommendations.

Short of having Jeffrey P. Bezos read the book to you himself, I doubt you could ask more from a retailer. The site’s blockbuster success shows that someone has thought very deeply about what shoppers need to feel confident about a purchase.

Sure, Amazon.com, could use a facelift, as could Facebook for that matter. I mean, there has to be more to life than staring at row upon row of thumbnail images against a white background. But both sites work, despite appearances, because they’re based on a real insight about what motivates people to act.

...spawning a more interactive world.
And that spells opportunity for the next generation of e-merchandisers. As bandwidth increases and real-time data updates approach the speed of light, e-merchandisers ought to be able to extend their reach to the offline world. As comically alluded to in the now ancient sci-fi film, Minority Report, some kind of online/offline continuum can’t be far off. Of course, mobile marketing already bleeps its coupon deals direct-to-consumer, but that’s not quite the same thing.

What we may be looking at is a redefinition of “store” itself, to something closer to “product interface center.” Combined with enough Artifical Intelligence, your neighborhood Best Buy would then be well on its way to becoming your best buddy.

A Tale of E-Tail (Part 2)

In some ways, digital space resembles an eco-system. Like life in the real world, digital creatures occupy different ecological niches and exhibit a wide variety of survival strategies. Some, like Kay Jewelers, discussed in my previous post, survive by providing just the facts and a bit of product education.

Others, like the Swedish furniture retailer, IKEA, use a sophisticated mix of facts, education, atmosphere and style to lure consumers into buying the whole package—IKEA’s make-life-more-graceful-for-less promotional subtext.

IKEA’s concept has a breadth and depth you can experience on every page, from the clear product directory, to the accessible new products display, to the special offers page, each including navigation to contextually sensitive next steps.

Even at this level, the site reflects the clean design and effortless functionality of the IKEA product line. In light of this, the absence of an umbrella headline on the home page is a minor misstep—but one that costs the site a key point of orientation for consumers.

Most effective are the pages devoted to individual rooms. “Living room,” for example, includes a slide show of photos, each displaying a different room treatment. Hotspots on each photo lead users to an education window and from there to detail pages of featured items.

With 10 living rooms, 18 bedrooms and 21 kitchens, the site recreates the in-store experience, while offering what no lengthy browse on foot can match. Visitors may also select from an image gallery, and quickly review an individual slide. Or they may view the featured products in a separate gallery with links to specific product pages that speed ordering and price comparison.

Accompanying each slideshow is a left navigation full of shopping advice, including “Ideas & Inspiration,” “Choose Your Style,” and “Guides & planners.” Meanwhile, a secondary index of product lines adds to the experience with whimsical headlines, including:

• Lets small budgets have fun
• Loves books as much as you do
• Clean lines for a calm bedroom

IKEA’s customer focus pays off even on product pages, where consumers can compile printable shopping lists. As I see it, only the slightly creepy “Ask Anna” feature—a rather patronizing recreation of the perky receptionist stereotype—strikes a false note.

Taken together, these elements help IKEA convey its underlying message. Without bluster, the site promotes IKEA products as the practical, affordable and stylish solution to home decorating.

Through thoughtful display, organization and guidance, IKEA spins a brand narrative of practicality, usability and light, uncluttered looks—all in the service of making everyday life more livable. Like the product line itself, ikea.com grows out of a single creative concept. It’s a rare example of marketing integration that flows as it should—from product development on out.

My next post will explore e-merchanising further and add a few closing thoughts.

A Tale of E-Tail (Part 1)

As guilty pleasures go, shopping may be among the most harmless, even if, like anything else, it has the potential to become addictive. In the U.S. at least, when all else fails, the temptation to go out and “get more stuff” is simply irresistible.

Enter e-merchandisers, ready to capitalize. By now, they’re everywhere in digital space—some out in the open, some lurking in the back pages of sites devoted to loftier things.

Like it or not, since they do make up such a large chunk of what we still quaintly call “the Web,” e-merchandisers exert considerable influence on users’ cumulative experience. Anyone arriving here from a typical e-merchandising site knows what I mean. Most likely, your head is still spinning from the garish imagery and whiz-bang promotional lingo. How do e-merchandisers work their dark magic? Let’s have a look, starting with a popular jewelry chain, Kay Jewelers.

Here is a classic case of design by accretion without regard to its global visual impact. The site is simply a series of buckets. All the same, Kay.com succeeds in a number of important ways—precisely because Kay has thought deeply about a jewelry buyer’s state of mind.

Combining traditional sales promotion with consumer education, Kay demonstrates its expertise at no cost, as a way to instill trust. For example, an easy-to-use 4Cs Diamond Guide demystifies the topic in no time. This goes a long way to reassuring customers pulled in several directions by the cost—in dollars and emotion—attached to any major jewelry purchase.

The site also features a large index of product shots, to be enlarged, zoomed and “rotated.” While there’s nothing new about that, Kay’s commitment to educating consumers adds up to a very effective messaging strategy. Without recourse to blinky banners or oily voiceovers, the site’s resources combine to convey a single message:

We empathize with your concerns and we’re here
to help you make an informed decision.

Still, I can’t help wondering how much more effective this site could be with a less functional design and a more functional navigation. Yes, the sheer volume of merchandise does require maximizing display space. But the sameness of each page quickly dulls a visitor’s enthusiasm and is not mitigated by the use of cookie-cutter
stock photography.

As a further drag on enthusiasm, the user path loses most of its momentum below the top-level navigation. Get a few layers deep in your search for the perfect diamond engagement ring and you’ll have a tough time finding “that other ring” you saw a few pages back. Also missing is the ability to make side-by-side comparisons of selected items.

In my next post, I’ll look at a very different approach to the problem of displaying wares online, as taken by a well-known retailer with a distinctive sense of style.

The Empathy Button

If your goal is to deliver value to consumers, it stands to reason you have to know who you’re talking to. That’s why market research is highly prized in some quarters—though never more so than when it tells us what we want to hear.

In fact, market research is all-pervasive. Chances are you can’t remember working on a project whose basic premise wasn’t nominally derived from “audience insights.” You began the project believing you knew exactly what buttons to push.

Based on such hard data, why should any appeal to consumers fail? Let’s assume your project delivers real value—whether in the form of tips, advice, a time-saving digest of relevant links or a straight up discount price code.

Let’s also assume you follow “best practices” for design and user experience. You never ask people to read more than 50 words at a time and everything—from the colorful buttons to the diverse array of happy, healthy, wholesomely sexy people and their laughing babies—screams a positivist outlook on life.

So why won’t people respond as projected?

Calculus of Expediency
I suggest your problem stems from approaching your work with too much science and not enough art. Or should I say, “pseudo-science?”

In the rush to make agency work more accountable to the same abstract cost-benefit ratios that recently ruined the American economy, we’ve created an entire edifice of pantomime science, dedicated to proving that x-approach will yield y-results for z-cost. We had no choice. The alternative was to actually advise clients on how to work with us more efficiently.

Trouble is, while the calculations are nominally based on mathematical modeling, first developed for engineering and later applied to economics, the variables they purport to measure are human behaviors.

Art of Empathy
Navigate society with mathematical logic? Can’t be done. Modern social conventions —which coexist with traditions from other eras and cultures, with myth, mental illness and wishful thinking—are anything but logical. You’d never think of “measuring the response” of the wedding presents you give or the baby showers you throw. So why believe you can craft effective consumer engagements solely by plugging “data” into statistical schemata?

It’s time we re-root our thinking about human nature into its native soil. Start by looking in the mirror and realizing you’re an integral part of the behaviors you analyze. Instead of mistrusting your innate understanding of human behavior in favor of pseudo-science, remember:

Market research is only a lens. It can only apprise us of trends or alert us to possible tipping points. Following its tenets without regard to your own on-the-ground experience is like making a scale model of the Chrysler building out of Legos^®—and calling it “New York.”

On the Undeath of Reading

Over the course of a career, the average writer probably hears “People don’t read anymore” at least a couple million times. Like “White Men Can’t Jump” it’s the kind of statement that sounds axiomatic simply because it’s terse.

It’s no surprise, really, that this phrase is so popular. Saying something is “over” is the easiest way to set yourself up as an arbitor of taste. Here’s what Steve Jobs said just over a year ago, regarding the Amazon Kindle:

It doesn’t matter how good or bad the product is, the fact is that people don’t read anymore...Forty percent of the people in the U.S. read one book or less last year. The whole conception is flawed at the top because people don’t
read anymore.

Now, I can’t help thinking this statement was less about the absense of readers and more about the absense of a valid business model for entering the e-reader market. But by May of this year the rumor mill suggested Apple had found the solution. Perhaps in the meantime Reading went from dead to “undead.” Otherwise, who exactly is the current iPhone Kindle app intended for?

Regardless, let’s look at the 40% figure cited by Jobs. Taken at face value, it leaves 60% of Americans, or about 183 million people, who read one book or more last year. Maybe some of these people also read a newspaper, magazine or blog post. Or are these being read by homunculi?

That’s a lot of reading…
But let’s stick with books, like those on The New York Times paperback, non-fiction bestseller list for October 30, 2009. At Number 2 is a book about economics. Number 3 is about Afghanistan. Number 6 and 8 are by Malcolm Gladwell and Number 16 and 20 are philosophical rambles about the Deity. That’s brainy stuff for people who “don’t read anymore.” So it seems no one has driven a stake into the heart of Reading
just yet.

Of course, once a statistic is involved, peer pressure makes pop axioms catch on like wildfire. Today’s hipster would rather die than admit to reading a book. Makes you wonder how Stephanie Meyer pays her mortgage—yet, strangely, she sells 500-page books faster than you can spell “transmogrification.” I wonder how many of her readers belong to Oprah’s Book Club.

…by people who appreciate real writing.
In fact, it’s never been a question of whether people will read, but what they’ll read. If market research suggests “nobody” reads online, it can only mean “nobody” wants to read the clipped Marketingese demanded by many a Marketing Manager or the kind of Art Director who cares more about pixel widths than motivating consumers.

Simply let Copy creatives write the way their craft, talent and experience tell them to and people will gladly read online—with or without a rollover coupon offer, expert video or a bloodless virtual sales force to sweeten the pot.

Culture of Consensus

What’s a creative brief supposed to accomplish?

I doubt I’ve ever heard the same answer twice. At one end of the spectrum, people see a creative brief as a recipe, a list of dos and don’ts based on a closed set of assumptions. At the other end, people see a creative brief as no more than a jumping-off point.

Where someone stands on this issue has very little to do with their title. What really determines their position is expediency. We all come to a project with our own bottom line requirements. So if arguing for a loose interpretation of the brief meets those requirements, so be it. If only a strict interpretation will do the trick, guess which approach we favor?

Sad to say, that’s human nature, but it’s also an indication of how poorly defined the thing we call a “creative brief” actually is. Philosophy aside, it’s time to realize that a true creative brief is not a piece of paper, but the thought process behind it—a process that must be agreed to from the beginning.

Differences out in the open…
Having seen so much time wasted on meaningless disputes about what is or is not
“in the brief,” I think every agency should commit to a coherent definition of the structure, function and intent of a creative brief. Agencies should then weave that definition into the very fabric of each client relationship.

In the process of defining the creative brief for a project, real differences of opinion will arise between agency and client. That’s a good thing. In my experience, nothing drags a project to mediocrity faster than smoothing over differences just to “make nice.”

In fact, the next time someone tells you they “don’t want to open that can of worms right now,” ask them why they want to perpetuate bad practice. As I see it, the only way to work together effectively is to reach an open, honest consensus that takes everyone’s point of view into account.

…then reach for common ground.
Because that’s exactly what a creative brief is supposed to accomplish: A basis for mutual agreement. Why? Think back to the number of times in your own experience that a project has reached a crisis point mid-stream. You’ll find that’s when the lack of consensus finally came to light.

Clients who say “I don’t want to inhibit creativity,” only to quash anything that doesn’t meet their detailed expectations, aren’t doing the project any favors. By the same token, agency types who want to give every SMS barcode-coupon “the One Show treatment” —should let their intentions be known up front.

That way, both sides are more likely to avoid the scenario I’ve seen played out more times than I can count: The project that’s over budget, out of time—and has as much audience appeal as an exploding can of worms.