You can see the result of what he gets here.

Anton Ego says: “Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.”

Same goes for that fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective he asked for. And while I firmly believe that, I think that valuable, insightful, game-changing perspective can only come from the type of experience it’s rooted in. If I live in one town, in the same house for my whole life, my perspective is going to be different than that of someone who has lived in 3 or 4 towns, traveled extensively and led a life of exploration and discovery.

When you go and hire an agency, make sure they have perspective you want.

There is the Right Way to do Social Media… And there is the wrong way to do Social Media. First, Social Media is not some revolutionary thing. It’s relationship marketing re-imagined. RM has been around for over ten years now and if you’ve been under a rock, google it to see what the hell I’m talking about.

Then, like now, there are boutiques and experts popping up all over the place. Some aren’t snake oil salesman, most are. There might even be a bubble (social business) that bursts. I hope for the sake of our industry that doesn’t happen and we all learned a lesson the first time.

Then, like now, relationship marketing… (ahem sorry about that) Social Media is your BRAND as much as anything else. The difference is that back then, it took enormous amounts of money and effort and it hardly got noticed… at all.

Nowadays, the common perception is that all you have to do is sit an intern down, make them create a Facebook page and a twitter account and you’re in the game. That approach is fraught with peril, I know. Keep reading.

So you ask… What’s the right way to do social media? Let me answer that by answering the second question: what’s the wrong way…

Well, simply put… the wrong way is what I’ve already mentioned: Hire a boutique, an expert, or sit an intern down to do it. Would trust somebody who has never built, managed or marketed a “brand” before to be responsible building, managing or marketing your brand? Or even a piece of it? Didn’t think so.

The right way involves hiring a company that can understand your brand, believes in strategy, can create one for you, and has a marketing pedigree with the chops to build a contextual connection that cuts through the noise and resonates with your audience.

Don’t say we didn’t warn you.

In your corner, you have one weapon: marketing. Against you is a deafening level of not just marketing noise to sort through, but also apathy, a short attention span and indifference. You’re also up against their keen sense of smell that sniffs out the inconsistent, inauthentic and the unapologetic.

Are you ready?

Are you sure?

Okay then, fights on.

We’ve noticed that there is a dark side to all this too; that businesses and individuals that seek to connect, do so to their own detriment sometimes.

Maybe it’s that social media offers a platform for those who are shy, or flat out anti-social to become “social” and contribute without the ramifications and risks of actual “hanging out and grabbing a drink after work.”  Maybe it’s that social media is an addiction and psychologists will be on the morning show’s soon talking about the “insert media overhyped words” it poses. Maybe social media isn’t evil at all. Maybe it’s the next Industrial Revolution.

Wherever your opinion fall on that spectrum, I’ve got a story that offers some evidence as to what is can be. I have recently lost a best friend to social media. We used to go to the movies, grab drinks, go fly-fishing and take long mancations together. But for the last six months, the only time that I have interacted with my best friend has been through social media. Problem? You betcha. Real human contact has been replaced. If I feel this way, imagine how his family must feel…

Which brings me to this: The “human” connection can be lost in all this cool technological connection. By relying to heavily on the platform and not taking our head out of the boat,* we tend to lose perspective on what matters. I have even seen people post that while they love the person’s online persona and writing, they were completely disappointed in the real person after they met. I see this when advertising agencies and consulting firms “specialize.” I’ll let you draw your conclusion, but if you do the math, I think you’ll get to the same place I did.

The important thing is something my dad used to say: “Pan métron áriston.” What he really meant was “all in good measure.” social media shouldn’t suck you in and make you think that all your eggs should be in one basket. It’s NOT the gotta-have-it new shiny thing on the block. If you think that, you’ll end up the same place that the Internet did in 2000. Pop.a

Don’t lose the real you. Don’t be assimilated by social media. Resistance is not futile. It’s required. Remain Authentically you. I can’t hammer this enough. If you say one thing, and do another, it’s only a matter of time before your house of cards comes crashing down. This goes for your personal brand as well as the multi-billion dollar brands.

If you are addicted, there’s help. Get it. It’s not a twelve-step process and there are no meetings. Just do what my sailing instructor told me when I was knee high, “Get your head out of the boat.” Do that, and you should be just fine.

*Head out of the boat: an obscure reference to sailing instruction. Students tend to look at lines and parts of the boat rather than where the boat is on the water, in relation to the shore and the wind.

Take a common word. It has one meaning to an engineer on a train. It means something different to a sailor. You use one occasionally in billiards. James Brown, the hardest-working man in show biz was famous for them. You have one on your nose and if you don’t brush your teeth, your dentist will give you one.

We generally think of the word bridge as a structure that spans and provides passage over a river, chasm, road or the like. But if I’m hanging out with a bunch of sailors and I say, “See you on the bridge,” they’ll take away a meaning that I might not mean. In the context of their experience, it’s most common use is a piece of the ship, not a span over something. Same thing when you hang out with a bunch of jazz musicians. If I’m holding a trumpet and I tell them I’m going to take it to the bridge, well you get the idea. It’s about Context. Contextual Connections are created when you use the right formula of cultural, generational and behavioral factors.

Richard Edelmen recently noticed a trend toward merging brand marketing and corporate reputation. He’s coined a term: The Trust Triangle. He states that it’s made up of WHAT (what you do), HOW (transparency on process, ingredients) and WHERE (where you communicate). He’s 2/3rds right. Looking to marketing trends that will unfold in the next 5-15 years, the “WHY” will matter most to the consumer.

The WHERE will most certainly be everywhere before too long, so it becomes a bit of a non-factor. The “WHAT” and the “HOW” are important factors. I’m not suggesting that the stool stand on just one leg. It is by the overwhelming amount of choice the consumer has, and the cultural and generational shifts ahead of us, that ‘why’ becomes critical. Marketing will be about the “feeling.” The consumer’s decision to give you 12 more seconds is driven by that complex formula of cultural and generational factors.

For instance: All things being equal, if the consumer has to choose between a company who’s why is to make money and a company who’s why is to make money AND give a pair of shoes to the needy for every shoe they sell. THAT pair of new shoes feels better than just a pair of new shoes. It’s “performance with purpose.”

By understanding why an organization is aligned in the way it is, what its motives and aspirations are, the consumer will be more likely to contextually connect with a company. This why also helps align company personnel and activities towards an always-overarching purpose outside of the generic ‘to make money.’

David Ogilvy used to talk about Salesmanship. In his day, packaging and availability played a role but advertising was largely responsible for salesmanship.

In the last 10-15 years though, that is no longer true. Advertising has become about salability. It is one or more steps removed from the purchase decision. Purchase decisions are real-time because the media landscape is contextual. (think services purchased and delivered online) It’s about behavioral economics.

Today’s Advertising can be thought of as a 2-part process. Salability and salesmanship

1. Imbue the product or service with salability. By using the above triangle of trust and focusing on the why, advertising can instill desire. It is still the best tool for the job.
2. The second part of advertising’s job is salesmanship. That means understanding the behavioral context within which decisions are made and build a construct of preference. Call it a relationship. This too is informed by the above triangle of trust. It’s creating familiarity and relevance for the consumer. Think about it in terms of an online purchase. If I can, as a matter of understanding the nuances of human behavior, change a purchase from 3 clicks to 2 clicks then I can draw a direct correlation to the 40% increase in sales.

1. Butterlips
2. Dimplenose
3. Muffinbutt
4. Pumpkinface
5. Chumbucket

Please add your favorites.

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.

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 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.

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 20^th 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.