Terms of endearment that, without close inspection, might pass for endearing but that, upon connotative inspection, betray your true feelings:
1. Butterlips
2. Dimplenose
3. Muffinbutt
4. Pumpkinface
5. Chumbucket
Please add your favorites.
Things that sell themselves:
Food.
Clothing.
Shelter.
Hookers.
Things that do not sell themselves:
Universal healthcare.
McRib.*
Ice makers to Eskimos.
Ideation.
Some days, I’m convinced that it would be easier to turn tricks or hawk McRibs than to work in the creative field. At heart, I’m a writer. I manipulate words, not people. I prefer to work by myself. I am not a salesman. Unfortunately for me, the worlds of branding and marketing rarely, if ever, allow for unilateral ideation. Unilateral ideation is for teenaged girls and their poetry journals, detached deities, and a few crackheads downtown. The common denominator among them? They do no business. They do not have to sell themselves.
I, however, do. I ideate not for self-expression but for a paycheck. People hire us at Uboon2 for our expertise. That expertise includes experience, social intelligence, pre-established networking, and wisdom, but to a large degree, that expertise boils down to knowledge. Potential clients perceive our level of knowledge, both theoretical and applied, and if they perceive that our knowledge will help them achieve their goals, they buy in. Thus, we sell ideation.
Selling ideation is, to paraphrase the Bidenator, a huge effing deal. For the sake of space and being realistic about my intellectual capacities, I will condense and oversimplify. So, then, how do we sell ideation?
1. Be knowledgeable.
Simply put, know your business better than your client does. If we don’t know our own business, why would someone trust us with his? When appropriate, offer unsolicited information about your industry. You don’t have time to brag (and you shouldn’t even if you did), so when you speak, speak facts rather than theory (unless your client is a scientist or a dissertation advisor). Most people equate knowledge with facts—this is unfortunate, but we work with what we have. The nicer way of saying this is that people want to hear the fruit of your labor, not the labor itself.
2. Don’t be too knowledgeable.
We deal, initially, with a client’s perception. And her money. Which means that the odds are initially stacked against us. Call me a pessimist, but I’m convinced that our client’s flag radar is set to red, not green. We can’t give him reason for suspicion. Perhaps the most usual suspect here is what I call intellectual frontin’. What this means for us is that we have to be willing to understand our limitations and work from within them. Don’t even begin talking about something you don’t understand; there’s enough that you do understand that you don’t need to enter that territory. Maybe, on the rare occasion, your client’s BS radar doesn’t go off, but there are always people out there smarter than we, and we will get called out on it. I’m not saying that we don’t learn on the job, but we need to be honest up-front when we’re going to have to do so. Remember, also, that knowledge is only a small component of successful work. Your client might not put that into words, but he knows that it’s true.
3. Understand the difference between explicit knowledge and tacit knowledge.
Explicit knowledge is that which we can put into words, that which we can explicate. Tacit knowledge is that which we can’t put into words. For instance, ask me to explain to you how I know that I love my child, and I can’t exactly put it into words that do the subject justice, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that I love him. Or, ask me to explain the physics behind leaning into a curve on my bike, and I won’t be able to put it into words, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to ride my bike into a curve.
A lot of ideation involves tacit knowledge. We will inevitably face a question from a client that we can’t put into words but that we know we have an answer for. In this case, remember #2 (don’t say more than you legitimately can) and, in a spirit of humility, appeal to the concept of tacit knowledge. It’s an easy concept to abuse, but there are times when it’s the only honest way to respond to a question like this. For certain questions, you can give market data and historically based facts, but you know that part of why you would treat a client’s needs a certain way falls under the category of tacit knowledge. Moreover, tacit knowledge sounds much more professional than “professional instinct” or “gut knowledge,” euphemisms which, for some reason, make me picture John Madden sweating while horfing a hot dog.
4. Engender trust.
All knowledge involves trust. You believe that 2 + 2 = 4 because someone (probably a parent or teacher), at some point, told you that it’s true, and you believed her. Sure, we can appeal to formulas and equations, but we had to trust someone, at some point, that those formulas and equations were legit. Selling ideation to a client is, fundamentally, a transaction of knowledge, and is, as such, a relationship built on trust. A few thoughts, then, on engendering trust:
A. Ask questions. Wise people ask questions. Asking questions reveals the fundamental value that we place on knowledge.
B. Listen. My general rule in any getting-to-know-you context is that if I have an hour, I will spend 55 minutes asking questions and listening to the answers so that I have something relevant to say in the final five minutes. Think of the people you trust the most, and my bet is that those are all people who listen well.
C. Be honest about your knowledge. (See 1 – 3). Consider the moaning that goes on during political campaigns; a lot of it sounds like this: “I wish he would just be honest about . . . .” We hate it when people won’t be honest regarding what they do and don’t know. This is one of the main reasons we don’t trust politicians, airport gate agents, or Survivor contestants.
By all means, ideate. And sell it. But before you do so, understand the role that knowledge plays in your pitch. If you’re not willing to do that, dust off your fishnets and patent leather—it’s going to be a long night.
*Actually, this is the subject of constant debate between me and an uncultured friend.
The line between healthy self-confidence and raging egomania is thin. You’re especially aware of this if (A) you are or have been a parent, (B) you watch Jersey Shore, (C) you’ve actually met in-person someone you matched on eHarmony, or (D) you know yourself well. Of these four options, the one that likely applies to most of us is (A). When I get together with my friends, we often talk about our children, which is to say we often complain about how hard it is to raise them in a way that they won’t end up on Dateline NBC, MTV reality programming, a Girls Gone Wild DVD, or a one-hour ESPN special devoted to their important decisions.
What can we do, we ask each other, to raise healthy, self-respecting, confident children who won’t turn to public ignominy because they’re jonesing for an identity fix? How do we instill in them a sober, proper self-confidence without creating little Kanyes? Realistically, there’s no way to get rid of the egomaniac in any of us; we are, after all, a self-preserving species. Is it, then, possible to embolden the dividing line between beautiful self-confidence and beastly self-promotion? I say yes.
I’ll use myself as an example. I’m a decent guy, but I possess a multitude of qualities that make me want to punch myself in the face. One of the most constant is that I’m stingy with praise. Complimenting someone elicits in me a struggle of Thermopylaean proportions. It’s a deeply ingrained, learned habit of character. My parents were great—this is not their fault, as they were and are excellent parents—but I wonder if I would be different had I learned, as a child, to notice, recognize, and praise others where- and whenever I could without being completely disingenuous. Instead, I was so focused on winning the praise, adulation, and attention of anyone with a pulse that I had to do whatever it takes (for evidence of this, you might refer to my fifth-grade yearbook photo, in which I wore a t-shirt saying “Whatever It Takes”—IN 5th GRADE) to differentiate myself, to separate myself from the competition, the competition being everyone but me. I didn’t dare encourage, compliment, or praise anyone lest I diminish the glory that was me. I was five. I still do this. We still do this.
When you’re a kid, you can get away with it; the other kids are too busy drawing and yelling and playing doctor and eating boogers to care. When you’re a grown-ass man, though, while there’s still a lot of yelling (and some playing doctor), that sort of self-protection screams desperation and insecurity.
When we meet with potential clients, we want to be chosen, to be admired, to be recognized. We’re confident in our abilities and talents, and if we didn’t think we could do great work for a client, we wouldn’t be doing what we do. I’d like to contend, though, that regardless of how confident we are, we have to be careful to stay on the right side of that line between proper self-confidence and puerile self-promotion. It’s a hard line to navigate, to be sure, and I don’t claim to have it figured out, but what I suspect is that navigating that line has a lot to do with how we differentiate ourselves.
As self-preserving creatures, our instinct is to do whatever it takes to be selected. The easiest (legal) route to selection is aggressive differentiation: blatantly dissing or passive-aggressively insulting the competition. What would happen, though, if in our meeting with a prospective client, we were, with all sincerity, to be sober and realistic in our self-appraisal and generous of speech regarding the competition? Probably you lose a client here and there. But in my experience, what’s more likely is that said client hears security, confidence, and humanity in your speech. He thinks, “These are the kind of people I’d trust with my reputation.” You elicit confidence rather than demand it. The repeat business and word-of-mouth business you earn will far outpace the few clients you lose in the battle between doing what is appropriate and doing whatever it takes.
I hate the cliché “it is what it is.” Because what “it is what it is” means nothing. Because it means everything. It means, one might say, that you gotta “keep it real.” Which means, he might add, that you “just need to be true to yourself.” Which means what? How the hell am I supposed to know, he blusters—it just is what it is.
I suggest that most people who say “it is what it is,” “keep it real,” and “be true to yourself” are looking for ways to shirk responsibility, that what they’re communicating is “I’m just going to do what I want, and if you don’t like it, it’s not (or, I hope that it doesn’t become) my problem.” The it-is-what-it-is proponent will then argue that there’s nothing wrong with that; eventually, he will use the word “authenticity.” As long as you’re being authentic, he will retort, that’s the most important thing, regardless of consequences, right? Right?
That’s the question. As for the answer, especially in the branding world, well, there are as many different opinions as there are ways of saying “it is what it is.” Getting into etymology and application doesn’t seem fruitful in a format like this, so I’ll deal only with this question: Why SHOULDN’T authenticity be a company’s modus operandi?
The best answer to this is one of my favorite films, “The Big Kahuna.” Go watch it. Now. The second best answer is that I do think that authenticity is usually a good thing. I don’t think that a company should strive to be inauthentic. That said, there’s nothing inherently virtuous about authenticity. Because we’re in the business of communicating, not monologue-ing. To be extreme about it, I can authentically desire to punch you in the tooth, but that doesn’t make my punching you in the tooth a helpful action, to me or the be-punched. The only time acting authentically serves a mutually beneficial purpose is when all parties agree on the appropriate behaviors and outcomes. To ignore others’ needs and interests in the name of authenticity is just a grown-up way of saying “It’s my party . . . .” “It’s my party” companies don’t last long.
In fact, most companies who need a brand overhaul are those who hold on to some outdated way of marketing and communicating under the guise of “being true” to the company’s roots and principles. As long as those roots and principles are still meaningful to consumers, great, but to the degree that they aren’t, authenticity is killing the company. Re-branding is another way of saying, “Who do you think you are, and, as importantly, who does the market think you are, and how can you define yourself and operate in a way that’s mutually beneficial?” Being true to yourself is only valuable inasmuch as who you are is also true to your clientele. To be sure, we can’t, and shouldn’t try to, please everyone, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be conscious of the difference between being authentic and being solipsistic tooth-punchers.
So be authentic, as long as “what it is” is a willingness to consider others and be held accountable. Otherwise, you and your customer won’t ever agree on what the “is” of what it is is.
Most of our clients aren’t leaders in their markets. We like that. Unfortunately, most of those clients are convinced either that they need to be the leaders or, at the very least, that they need to act like the leaders. That we don’t like. So we spend a lot of time telling clients, essentially, “You will reposition yourself as a challenger brand. And you will like it.” With our help, they do, and they do.
These clients mean well. They’re usually sober, realistic, and humble about their position, and they tell themselves that if they work hard enough to imitate the market leaders then they can snag enough of their business to keep them going. They’ve told themselves that it’s better to eat crumbs from the master’s table than to starve. To be honest, it’s hard to argue with that. In fact, we don’t argue with that. We’re the first to admit that that’s true. It’s true if there’s one table.
There isn’t one table. One table is so 20th century. One table is the corporate news source, the Sears catalog, British Petroleum. Forget about the table. Instead, buy a retired mail van from some old hoarder out in the country, retrofit it to run on bio-fuel, and start a lunch truck. Forget about the table.
It’s hard to forget about the table. That’s where you’ve always eaten. We get that. We get why clients would be hesitant to leave. Leaving requires a suspension of disbelief, an almost unnatural admission of ignorance. Allow me here to maul C.S. Lewis, who was writing about joy and satisfaction but just as easily could have been talking about companies who insist on crumbs from the master’s table: “[They are] like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because [they] cannot imagine what is meant by an offer of a holiday at the sea. [They] are far too easily pleased.”
This will require imagination. The bottom line is that if you’re not the market leader, and you know you never will be the market leader, rather than being content to be the market follower, why not create a new category? If you can’t create a new category, why not make fun of the leader? If making fun of others is beneath you, why not poke fun at yourself? If you’re too serious to poke fun at yourself, then no one’s going to want to spend time with you anyway. Go out and find 100 dudes who have out-punted their coverage—guys with girls who are way better people and way better looking than they are—and I guarantee you that at least 95 of those guys are honest, funny, and self-deprecating. Guys with imagination. Those guys are challenger brands.
Forget the table. Out-punt your coverage. And like it.
Like many people in the branding and marketing world, we use the word “culture” a lot. We say things like “a successful company needs to create a culture of authenticity” or “a good marketing strategy takes cultural trends and preferences into account” or “social media culture demands x or y.” Fine. Nothing wrong with using the word “culture.” Unless we don’t understand what we mean when we use it. My hunch is that most of us don’t. That when we use it, whether we’re conscious of doing so, we kinda’ sorta’ hope or, worse, assume, that someone will know what we mean by it, and that since it sounds important, it must be meaningful. But I’d be willing to bet a lunch-plate special at Farm Haus (our new favorite restaurant in St. Louis) that if you ask, after reading this, the first ten people you see to define the word “culture,” you’ll get ten different definitions.
If you’re one of the majority of us who, when pressed, can’t readily define the word “culture” or explain why understanding what it means can actually affect business—especially our marketing and communications efforts—I’d like to propose a basic definition, which you’re free to adopt, adapt, or reject outright. I don’t suggest that my definition would even pass muster with my child’s Snoopy Dictionary, but if nothing else, at least you’ll be more likely to understand what I mean when I use it.
At its root, “culture” refers to a set of answers to specific questions of meaning. When I refer to a group of people as a culture, what I’m saying is that that group provides the same answers to certain questions of meaning. Take, for example, this very human question: How do I show appreciation? To the degree that we answer that question differently, we differentiate ourselves culturally. Some show appreciation by bowing their heads; some show appreciation by buying gifts; some show appreciation (baseball culture, anyone?) with a slap to the butt.
I realize that this is a very basic, simple way to demarcate culture, but when you start thinking about it in these terms, you’ll see how much sense it makes. In terms of business, then, when we begin talking about appealing to a specific buying culture or targeting a culture with our advertisements, it’s helpful to begin by asking, “What questions of meaning does this group of people ask?” If we can identify those questions, then we can more specifically shape our message and our products as answers to those questions.
Some of those questions are huge: Whom can I trust? Who will love me? What defines my personal value/worth? How can I leave a lasting impact? Some of those questions are small: What makes a meal worthwhile? What’s the best time of day to commute? How do I tell you that I’d like to date you without risking personal rejection? Which is better—college or pro sports? The reason that it’s important to consider every size of question is that there are endless sizes and types of cultures, especially in America, the most multi-cultural, pluralistic country in the world.
It’s easy to continue using the word “culture” and hope it means something. What’s harder is to actually understand the culture that you’re creating and to which you’re hoping to appeal. It’s hard, but it’s crucial, because it’s only when you can identify the questions being asked that you have a shot at providing answers.
I get this all the time: (skeptically) “What is Twitter?”
This is how I answer: “It’s a collective stream of consciousness that you can listen to and contribute to.”
Most of the time, Mr. (or Ms.) Skeptical non-Twitter users goes on to say this: “I don’t want to hear about some guy who’s in line at a coffee shop. And I definitely don’t want to hear about the color and consistency his kid’s poop! I don’t see the VALUE!!”
To them I say something like this: “How totally ignorant can you be? I mean, a simple effort of educating oneself (where are you life-long learners?) reveals all kinds of value. What you so shortsightedly believe is that twitter is nothing more than full-tilt lifecasting, which I agree is stupid, a huge waste of time and an un-followable offense unless you’re a celebrity of some standing. What I’m talking about is mindcasting which is incredibly valuable, virtually priceless in fact.”
Let’s break it down
Collective Stream:
I dove into this in a previous blog post, but basically the internet has become a giant think tank. Why anyone would pay a think tank for work these days is beyond me. The stream of consciousness is collective thinking and sharing at its best. The opportunity to garner tons of personal and professional value from simply listening to the right folks and the right time is electronic gold.
Listening:
My 3rd grade teacher always said, “You have two ears and one mouth, use them in proportion.” I’m going to adapt that and say, you have two eyeballs and one mouse, use them in proportion. (Yes, I know you type with your (2) hands, but not everybody has just one hand. Cut me some slack) I’m the first one to admit that there are a TON of people smarter than me on the internet adding, contributing and sharing everyday. I’m smart enough to know that if I listen to them, learn from them and adapt what they share to my own bag of tricks, then one day I will be one of those people. Maybe not in this lifetime, but definitely the next one.
Contributing:
Now I am the first to admit that I have done my share of lifecasting:
- Redsyn: Finished with the MTB ride. Missing: one lung. If seen, please DM @redsyn.
- Couldn’t help myself on this one – Redsyn: Just reported: Phil Michelson has contacted Tiger’s wife for tips on how to beat him. (insert rim shot here.)
But it’s really seasoning in the stew:
- Redsyn: For all you visual chart junkies This is pretty badass: http://bit.ly/ZwT7z via 6 tweets new @rloren.
- Redsyn: Why Design Thinking Is the Next Competitive Advantage http://bit.ly/7ieZPD
- Redsyn: Hey Business Leaders: ACT LIKE AN ARTIST! http://bit.ly/5waXED Yes, this means you.
What I’m really doing is contributing to the consciousness. What I’m really doing is being authentic. For the sake of my business (I’m a real person at Uboon2) and for my personal brand (I’m a real person behind the curtain). Like you, I am and we are tired of the BS, the close to the vest corporate way of doing things. We submit that rats and cockroaches like the dark. Therefore they are afraid of flipping the lightswitch of Social Media on. It shows just how hideous hiding really is. We’re also tired of the screaming lies companies and marketers continue to pump out. We’ve all stopped listening. Authenticity is the new differentiator. It’s the new value proposition.
Twitter is a great opportunity to be authentic, to build a brand (your own and your company’s) and to interact in a way that is becoming increasingly attractive (from a revenue standpoint) to potential marketers and consumers alike.
So Mr. Skeptical non-Twitter user, do you understand what Twitter is now?
Where to start… How about here: In a world and a generation where microfragmentation is a word my spellchecker is still unfamiliar with and a challenge facing businesses and marketers alike, “the richest source of insight comes from observing behavior,” So says BBDO President and Chief Executive Andrew Robertson.
The reason he says that is at the root of a study that BBDO did a few years back. At the core of the study published in BusinessWeek, are 5 daily rituals that it appears are universal. I may be taking a little license here by using the word “universal” since the researchers surveyed 5000 people in 21 countries and didn’t ask any of the “V.” Long live the 5th Column.
But I digress. Or maybe not. Rituals are funny things. They are religious, ceremonial, habitual and sometimes even pathological. They’re meaningful and frivolous. Sometimes even at the same time.
And apparently vegging out in front of the TV before bed qualifies.
The five that BBDO came up with that occur every day in every part of the world: preparing for battle, feasting, sexing up, returning to camp, and protecting yourself for the future” (the ritual before bed). According to the study, each label is meant to suggest a defined emotional state that permeates each set of behaviors. It suggests then, that even though we’re so different, we’re practically the same.
If the rituals are universal and globally we share similarities, then it stands to reason that gone is the national, regional local and microfragmented audiences we have been led to believe actually exist.
Sure, a man and a woman are different sexes (duh) and have different perspectives and even different ways our grey matter functions, but that which seemingly divides us, probably viscerally unites us more than we’d like to admit.
It makes sense then, for us as marketers to align our work to those five in some form or fashion. Here’s a great example from Nike of “Preparing For Battle” that breaks the code.
The familiar parts of that spot become resonance which sparks an emotion which leads to product recognition/try which becomes loyalty and leads to advocacy. KaBLAM.
What it is simply, is a brand that breaks the “rules” and establishes cultural significance.
The Study and Business Week article were written before the massive adoption of social media so I took the concept to the next level. Social media can be classed into those five rituals which is why people flock to it, sometimes not even knowing why.
If “returning to camp” involves meeting your peeps for drinks after work, then foursquare is a ritual inducing medium.
Twitter is a ritual inducing medium where “sexing up” means that teenage girls are talking about what they’re going to wear to a dance or singles lining up a date or the desperate are trying to find a hookup.
Blogging especially about food becomes a way that feasting is part of the social medial landscape.
Hell, if feasting is about reconnecting with your tribe, then you could argue that Facebook should change its name to Feastbook.
Brands NEED TO find a way to insert themselves into the conversation in a relevant and purposeful way, the same way Nike/WK did with their spot Awake. The Lombardi Trophy then for any brand is to break through and become part of one of these 5 rituals.
This is old!!! BUT… I couldn’t have said it better than this. And I’m not even a woman. Sarah Haskins is though…. And funny… which is way sexy.
Guess the yogurt makers missed the memo about the New Consumer seizing power. Chalk this video up to awesome.
You know the quote “Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans?” Well that’s my excuse for the multi-month hiatus I’ve taken on this blog.
To come clean, my ‘other plans’ have been in the form of two under 3, twitter and a change in work.
Twitter has been the single largest digital time-suck in my life. I say digital cuz there are two little girls (both under 3) that are an even bigger albeit analog time-suck… ahhhh, the joys of being a dad.
But I digress. Twitter. It’s what got me in trouble, and what has got me back writing.
I had a chat on twitter today with @rotkapchen
She’s a guru. She’s a Texan. And she regularly posts stuff on Twitter that makes me smarter. And she’s the reason I’m back at this writing thing. You see, she went and posted a blog entry I wrote in relation to something she was commenting on. While I am flattered and honored, the first thing I thought was “Oh shit! I haven’t posted to that blog in months!” Which of course, makes me look like a tool. Which I am. Sometimes.
Here’s me not being a tool:
Paula is in fact a lot of fun to follow on Twitter. She is inspirational. The stuff she tweets on are mostly smart as hell… I say mostly cuz she sometimes mentions me. So I feel safe is saying she is my ambassador of Kwan.
