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Random Rewrite #4: Chick-Fil-A

So close, yet so far away. I love the concept behind Chick-Fil-A's current marketing campaign, but I'm afraid it's a classic case of "doing the overdo."

The idea that Chick-Fil-A should launch a campaign that gives voice to cows who are sneakily trying to get America to eat more chicken is clever and entertaining enough. But something about its execution has always bugged me, and I finally figured out what it is. The sign should read:

"Eat More Chicken."

There's simply no reason to go the extra mile and misspell "more" ("mor") and "chicken" ("chikin"). It might've sounded funny in the meetings to assume that cows can't spell. The problem is, the misspelling is jarring to the audience. You're so focused on the misspelling that you lose the broader concept. And by the time the ad is over, the average viewer is going, "Huh?"

(And the font is a bit creepy.)

Integrity Is Sexy!

When I think of it, the most common marketing problem I've heard companies express over the last 10 years (including just this afternoon), could be paraphrased as this:

"Our industry is growing increasingly commoditized. We don't want to compete on price. We want to compete on value."

It'll be interesting to see what happens as we enter the Repression of 2009 (I've chosen to combine "recession" and "depression"). The marketplace for marketing could go in one of two directions. Either every service will be commoditized like never before, and we'll find ourselves in a price-cutting death spiral, or we'll learn the true lesson of what has gotten us to where we are today: motivations matter.

"The Method," as it's called in acting circles, was derived from Stanislavski's "System," in which the actor starts by asking, "What's my motivation?" (thank you, Wikipedia). What I find with companies like the one I met with today is that their biggest selling point is the integrity of their motivations: Their motivations truly do align with the client's.

In the era of credit default swaps and naked short selling (basically economic anarchy, or legalized gambling), this isn't just a nice-sounding, pat-on-the-head kind of a message. It's serious benefit, and I think it has a fighting chance in the coming year, because we live in a world where it seems like no one is actually advocating for us.

As a wannabe screenwriter with a script on the market, I have a manager whose attention I attracted by winning a national contest. The decision to work with him was one of the easiest of my life. Why? Because he only gets paid if I get paid. His motivation is to see my script sold, because if he does, he gets 10 percent of the price tag. That not only doesn't bother me, it's a breath of fresh air. Yes, the motivations of agents and managers become more nuanced with screenwriters (not to mention actors and directors) who actually become successful, but for a first-timer, it truly is black and white.

Think about exploiting your integrity in 2009 (no, it's not an oxymoron). If you don't, you'll be competing on price alone, struggling to tread water and screaming, "I coulda been a contenda!"

Zack & Miri Make a Marketing Mess

One of the things most people don't know about the movie business is that film production and film marketing campaigns are completely separate beasts. In the last mile of what is the most collaborative art form ever devised, the screenwriter's original intent (which has since been destroyed or enhanced, depending on your point of view, by the studio, the director and the actors) is placed as a glob of fresh clay in the hands of a marketing team. Their highly focused task: Get butts in the seats at all costs, especially on opening weekend.

When you have 90+ minutes to mold into a 30-second commercial, you can pretty much do whatever you want. This is how a movie like "Leaving Las Vegas"--very good, very dark--can be made to seem like a light comedy. The marketers say, "No one will see this film unless it looks funny." They hire firms whose entire business is creating trailers, and they say, "Make this Oscar hopeful about a desperately suicidal alcoholic look like the laugh-out-loud comedy romp of the summer!" And they do.

The new movie, "Zack and Miri Make a Porno" is the latest transparent example of the difference between creating something and trying to market it. The director, Kevin Smith, is known as the guy who opened up the world of raunch in a whole new way. Smith begat Judd Apatow, whose "40-Year-Old Virgin," "Knocked Up" and others produced the subgenre of "raunch with a heart."

When I first saw the trailer/ad for "Zack and Miri Make a Porno," I was somewhat amazed that Kevin Smith (now maybe trying to out-Apatow Apatow) would think he could get away with that plot and that movie title. Clearly, this was the definitive shot across the bow saying that porn had gone, to some extent, mainstream.

Then a funny thing happened. Some time after the opening weekend, which must have been a disappointment, the ads began to change. Suddenly, there was no reference to the basic plot of the movie (two longtime platonic friends decide that the only way they can survive financially is to make a skin flick), the scenes were reduced to vague one-liners and slapstick vignettes, and the title appearing on screen and spoken by the narrator was shortened to simply, "Zack and Miri," as if this were just a modern-day "When Harry Met Sally."

Time will tell if this strategy works, but I suspect that in the Internet age, it will prove to have come too late. On the other hand, if you could remove the potential public shame of walking into a theater to see a movie with "Porno" in the title... let's just say, DVD sales will be huge.

Just for fun, here's a famous video showing how "The Shining" can be re-spun as a feel-good family drama.

Dancing with the Pols

I give you the Obama/McCain Dance-off. Funny, freaky or both?

Focus vs. Inclusion Part IV

Okay, last political-related post...

Much was made about last week's Obama infomercial. From a marketing (not a political) perspective, I thought it was a great example of both brilliant techniques and missed opportunities.

To be honest, what I expected was a standard live "speaking from the desk" speech. Speechifying is one of Obama's strengths, after all, so one would assume that the leading candidate would stick with what works.

My initial reaction was a bit of a cringe. It was obvious from shot one that this was going to be a slick, scripted production. Given the fact that Obama raised eyebrows spending millions of dollars on the airtime alone, I thought it was a mistake to also make such a high-production-value piece. For some reason, it called to mind the practice of nonprofits printing their marketing materials on recycled paper in an effort to look like good fiscal stewards, even though that paper is actually more expensive than its glossy cousin. (For all I know, the production company shot Obama's piece pro bono. It doesn't matter. It looked expensive.)

Then I was impressed when Obama said in his opening remarks that he was going to feature the stories of three "ordinary Americans." This turned everything around, because now the candidate was spending millions of dollars to give prominence not to himself, but to other people (and thus, of course, himself). That, I thought, was an innovative idea--and a great example of using credible surrogates to back your message.

Trouble was, that's not how the piece played out. I expected three stories, roughly seven minutes each, with a pitch for the candidate as a "call to action" at the end. Instead, it turned into a classic choice of inclusion over focus. To be fair, when you're making one piece and broadcasting it on the big networks, you have little choice but to throw in the kitchen sink.

And that's what it was. Stories of people, mixed with photos and video of Obama, mixed with people talking about Obama, and Obama talking to the camera. As expected, the people featured were in swing states and represented a racial cross-section. Yes, it focused exclusively on the economy, which was smart. But when you have the candidate doing the voiceover, as if he's your host, and then you cut to shots of the candidate himself, or people talking about him, it opens up the "vanity" door, which I thought was risky.

(McCain countered well by going on Saturday Night Live, pretending to buy airtime on QVC, and quipping, "I'm a true Maverick: a Republican without money.")

We'll see if any of this makes a difference in the election (editor's note: it didn't). I suspect that it won't, except that infomercials will now become standard practice. But the marketing lesson is this: Focus beats inclusion. It's better to customize different infomercials for different stations (coming in 2012, a Sarah Palin Spanish-language infomercial exclusively for Univision!) than to be all-things-to-all-people on the big networks.

Change, Part II

I was driving down Washington Ave. in downtown Minneapolis when the radio guest made an interesting point. When asked why the electorate doesn't care more about the facts in political campaigns, and why false and misleading ads are often effective, the founder of FactCheck.org said:

When you falsely portray a candidate in a way that goes against the grain of people's preconceived notions, it doesn't work. But when you do it in a way that reinforces the myth already in the ether, it often does work.

See? That's why every Republican is a greedy warmonger who pals around with bloated CEOs, while every Democrat is a tax-and-spend wimp who pals around with terrorists! The two parties have gone to great lengths (and spent millions of dollars) to create these perceptions over several decades. They're very hard to undo.

But what about something like TankGate, the famously ill-conceived photo of Michael Dukakis posing in full military garb inside an M1 Abrams tank? This wasn't a tactic of his opposition; it was the stupendously misguided brainchild of his own campaign. It failed miserably, because it tried to change perceptions overnight. Call it branding "shock and awe," as if McDonald's had suddenly announced that it was trading beef for tofu. It went against the grain, and it was an instant laughingstock.

A month ago, Bill Maher asked why the Obama campaign hadn't tried to "swiftboat" John McCain. Because they're smart, I thought. They know that swiftboating John Kerry worked because it went with the grain, but doing it to McCain would fly in the face of his solid image as a war hero. Is it fair that a Vietnam POW is bullet-proof, while a Silver Star and Purple Heart recipient from the same war is vulnerable to attack? No, but that's the way it is. Don't fight it.

Months ago, I sat in a meeting with a VP of sales who was exasperated that, despite months of indoctrination, many of his reps still described their employer as a "distributor," rather than a "solutions provider." There were probably many reasons for this (including the inertia of longer-standing employees who are always resistant to change). But is it also the case of an "against the grain" internal branding move?

We'll find out.

Good Change/Bad Change

Political season is almost over, and it's time to talk about change. Good change, bad change, and the fact that we might all soon be standing on a street corner begging for change.

A funny thing, this concept of "change." When it comes to marketing, particularly in politics, it's a good thing (when times are bad, the challenger has two basic rules: run on "change" and tie your opponent to the current unpopular president). But it occurs to me that there's one kind of change that nobody likes: a candidate that seems to change during the course of the campaign.

Think back to the Gore-Bush debates. Back in those heady times, when we were blissfully unaware of the terrorist attack, wars and global recession soon to come, we had the luxury of fixating on eye rolls and sighs. After Al Gore showed much of both in his less-than-stellar first debate performance, an interesting thing happened: His handlers sat him down in front of a TV and made him watch Saturday Night Live's Darrell Hammond do his Gore imitation. "See?" the handlers said. "People see you as stiff and uptight. You have to change that."

And what did Gore do? He started wearing earth tones, doing morning-show interviews while sitting in an easy chair, and most notably, seeming to do his next debate performance on Xanax.

I remember thinking that it was a horrible decision. Sure, if we had never seen the other Gore, this Gore might seem more pleasant. But more important, people saw that Gore would change based on their perceptions of him. That's far worse, because it shows weakness. (His handlers blew it even more by leaking the SNL sit-down story to the media.)

In the next election, what was the angle that the Republicans introduced early and rode to victory? "Our guy is resolute; their guy is a flip-flopper." Hillary Clinton refused to change when it came to her initial approval of the war in Iraq, but what really hurt was the perception that she changed her personality on the campaign trail almost weekly. And McCain, who as of this writing is down eight points nationally, has always had a tough time convincing people that the current self-proclaimed "maverick" is the same guy as the media-dubbed maverick of 2000. (In the final presidential debate, most people saw one angry guy and one guy who remains calm under attack. They preferred the latter.)

Before you make any radical changes to your product, service or entire corporate brand, think about whether it's change that people want, rather than change you think they need.

Words Matter

Paraguay?

I've been on record as saying that I think Starbucks and McDonald's are trying too hard to become one another. I said it nearly a year ago after Starbucks started selling breakfast sandwiches and McDonald's announced it was creating barista bars to hock its McCafe gourmet coffee products.

I'll stand by the prediction that neither experiment will last, although it's pretty clear who's doing it better: McDonald's. When I try to think off the top of my head of an ad campaign that is truly succeeding (meaning, it's memorable, people talk about it, and you remember whom it's for), I think of the McDonald's McCafe spots. You know the ads. There's one with two guys, one with two women. Each follows the same "unmasking" formula: Closeted regular folk remove their veils of snobbery under the reverse enlightenment of the golden arches.

Because my biggest pet peeve about American culture is the latent hostility toward curiosity and intellect that emerges during each presidential election, it pains me to admit that these ads are very good. Why? Because they fit the brand. McDonald's isn't actually trying to be Starbucks (and it's not; the iced hazelnut coffee I tried a week ago was god-awful). It's saying that its products are low-attitude.

The ads are memorable because they're expertly written, acted and edited. People talk about them because they're funny and they strike a universal chord (all people feel the pressure to act contrary to their true natures in some way every day). And you remember whom they're for because their ultimate message travels with, not against, the grain of how we already perceive McDonald's.

True, I'll be surprised if the barista bars are still around in 10 years, but until then, well done, Ronald.

Robot in a Wheelchair

I've been a member Think Tank Thursdays for several years now. T3 isn't your typical writers' group, which is exactly why I go. Instead of a group of dour novelists "workshopping" their prologues to death, it's a good-humored cabal of screenwriters who pitch their script ideas. The point is to see how good your concepts are before you ever put 12-pt. Courier font to virtual paper. There is no "workshopping" involved.

Having given and received many a movie pitch, I've figured out the hallmark of a truly good one. It isn't the pitch that draws silence because it's so airtight (like the one about a rogue Israeli soldier and Palestinian terrorist who jointly conspire to bring peace to the Middle East by threatening to detonate a nuclear device if the two sides don't hash out a peace deal in 48 hours). Nor is it the ones that leave people speechless because they're so awful (like the one that started as an interesting tale of corporate fraud, only to degrade into the author's personal conspiracy theory of Paul Wellstone's death).

No, the pitches with real potential are the ones that make people talk... the ones that provide such an appealing and versatile platform that they start chiming in, "Yeah, and then you could do this..." because they instantly want to make the movie their own.

Sure, this can annoy the pitcher, because the new ideas often conflict with his or her own. But if you accept the fact that film is by far the world's most collaborative art form, it's absolutely the best outcome. What you want, ultimately, is for a producer, a director and some actors to want to make your project their own. Barring self-financing, that's the only way your movie will ever get made at all.

Another long-winded analogy for marketing campaigns? Yes. The era of making your campaign completely airtight and closed off is pretty much over. Younger generations have grown up expecting to take any piece of creative work and make it their own, whether it's remixing their favorite song, shooting their own ad for your product, or re-editing the trailer for your movie. In short, everything has become film. Everything is a collaboration. And the quicker you accept that, and more you care more about authoring a good platform instead of taking credit for every product that platform generates, the better off you'll be.

P.S. Why "Robot in a Wheelchair"? In my favorite all-time pitch, a 20-something guy outlined his idea for a sitcom including the character of a robot in a wheelchair. I just thought it was funny.

Flurble

I came across a ground-breaking new social media tool the other day that I think every marketing director and VP needs to know about right now.

Flurble combines the stickiness of Facebook, the immediacy of Twitter, the social bookmarking capabilities of del.icio.us, the searchability of Google, YouTube's instantaneous viralocity, and Digg's peer-to-peer interest group features. If you're looking for something that attracts the IM-addicted, text-savvy, iPhone app-loving emerging market, it's all about Flurble.

In fact, if I may be so bold, I would say that if your website isn't Flurblized in the next three months, you're going to miss a very big boat. If you don't believe me, I'd put money down that your competitors are implementing it (and licking their chops at the prospect of stealing your customers) as we speak.

What is Flurble? Absolutely nothing. It doesn't exist. I made it up.

Why? Two reasons: One, I'm cruel that way. Two, while I am a serious believer in (and user of) social media tools, I continue to think that marketing directors should resist the temptation to trust anyone who touts "the next best thing" on that still-developing frontier. I've been in meetings where I thought I could throw out a ridiculous word like "flurble" and make people's eyes light up.

But that would be branding malpractice. I prefer satire. :)

What Do Punditry & Marketing Have in Common?

I've been watching the Democratic National Convention. While most criticisms about conventions are directed at their informercialness, my biggest criticism is of the coverage itself. Punditry has hit a new low. It now takes a dozen people to say absolutely nothing.

Most of the time I'm watching the so-called experts, I'm wondering why in the world they're not talking to real people. To hear a pundit say, "The strength of this speech is that it appeals to the blue-collar working-class swing-voter in Scranton"--and then NOT cut to an actual blue-collar working-class swing-voter from Scranton--seems absurd.

The Internet (specifically social media) has brought this expectation with it. Call it the death of the filter. CNN's entire "Best Political Team on Television" is a filter based on the old model of Expert->Consumer. Most people under 30 don't go for filters. They don't know who James Carville is, nor do they care what he thinks. Or if they do care what he thinks, their next question is, "What do my friends think about what James Carville thinks?"

As with so many things these days, I saw this as another analogy in marketing. So many times, people try to be the speculative pundit filter. In extreme cases, they actually don't care what their customers think. More often, they simply "think" they already know. But they don't actually ask. They'd rather speculate, so they can't be proven wrong.

I've been working on a product that addresses this, which is in a beta phase right now. Call it a way of eliminating Pat Buchanan and James Carville and getting right to Scranton.

Whose Ad Is This?

(I'm a little late in commenting on this campaign, but I think the point is timeless.)

I'm guessing that the ad above rings a bell. It's a TV campaign where disembodied hands create an image in the negative space of sand against a light board, then seamlessly transform that image into another one, then another.

It's visually stunning and hypnotic. I've researched it and discovered that the hands belong to Israeli artist Ilana Yahav, who is the only person in the world doing this kind of art.

I love this campaign, yet ultimately, I think it's utterly ineffective.

Whether I'm right or wrong depends on the answer to this question: If you've seen these ads, can you tell me (without cheating) which company they are for?

Commodity Logic

I first heard the phrase months ago from a friend and colleague in the same industry. A client of his wanted to busy up a magazine ad with the logic, "Hey, if we're paying for paper and ink, we might as well use it."

I shrugged it off as an isolated incident. Surely this is only the mindset of less-experienced marketing professionals at smaller organizations. Right?

Wrong. The same thing happened on another one of his projects--this one funded by a rather well-known, highly successful Twin Cities entrepreneur. The product: a catalog. The comment: "As long as we're paying for paper and ink, we might as well use it."

I won't get into the details of what was being discussed, but suffice it to say, if you've seen the brilliant Stop Sign Video, it was about adding more to the stop sign (and making it half blue, half pink).

The Commodity Mindset is so wrong on so many levels, the riffing analogies are almost too numerous to fathom:

"Excuse me, Senor Picasso, but as long as I'm paying for canvas and oils, could you add something more to that painting... something besides cubes?"

"Sorry, Herr Mozart, but as long as I'm paying for the 20 violinists, could you please add a movement?"

"Yes, Albert, it's very clever. But as long as I'm paying for your research, could you add another letter to e=mc2?"

Don't obsess on the individual commodities of your marketing. Think about the final product from the perspective of the audience. In a crowded world, "less is more" is usually the way to go.

Focus vs. Inclusion Part III

This was originally on YouTube and then removed. Now it's back on a different site, so I'm including the link:

What If There Were No Stop Signs?

Sure, it's a little... uh, slanted toward the agency perspective. But it's an excellent portrayal of life from the creative side.

Best line: "We're targeting men secondarily."

What Do the iPhone and Working with an Agency Have in Common?

I'm not a gadget head. I'm not a first adopter. I've never been a Mac Whacko. But now that's all changed, thanks to the iPhone. Especially thanks to the latest OS update.

I won't bore you with a laundry list of what makes the iPhone so addictive. What I think is interesting is this: When it comes to the creative marketing process, the iPhone provides the perfect analogy. Why? Because it's one part rigidity and one part flexibility. One part highbrow, one part lowbrow. One part singular expertise, one part massive collaboration.

The industrial design and user interface represent the first word in each of those pairings. Apple played the role of the exclusive artist and said, basically, screw convention, screw the way things have been done before, screw the entire concept of "buttons." And it created a design and user interface so human-friendly and appealing to the eye, that the mere sight of a Blackberry looks downright troglodytic.

The most recent decision to take a page from Facebook and let people create their own applications ("apps" in common parlance) for the new OS represents the second set of words. Apple controlled what it wanted to control, then it opened the floodgates to outside creativity within its constraints. The result: I've downloaded half a dozen "apps" for my iPhone, including the best device for locating movies and showtimes ever devised (Box Office).

(I've also downloaded two ridiculous apps just for fun: iBeer turns the phone in to a glass of beer where the liquid moves when you tilt the phone. And PhoneSaber turns the phone into a Star Wars light saber that makes sound effects according to the way you move the phone. Don't worry, total cost for both was only $2.99, and I consider it tax deductible.)

There is now a mad dash to create iPhone apps. And that's a good thing. Because it only strengthens the brand by keeping the public intimately engaged. People are using an Apple product to express themselves, which for me is the holy grail of branding.

When you're working with a creative agency, you should expect both sides of this proverbial coin. For any given project to succeed, you need one part "we're the experts, this is what you should do" and one part "you're the client, you know your business, we can be flexible." Too much of either one seldom works.

P.S. Just downloaded the app that turns your phone into bubble wrap that you can pop. Yippee!

What Do Franchise Relations and the Cookie Monster Have in Common?

I've long despised the proliferation of "nerbs" (verbs used as nouns, such as the act of "sunsetting a product line"), but I heard a doozy in a recent client meeting that I think I can get behind.

This is a client with an extensive national franchise network. Last year, they tried a marketing campaign that seemed pretty simple for store owners to understand. Yet, in the end, execution was lacking (didn't they realize that the window clings had to go in a certain order for the design to make sense?). My contact said plainly, "This year, we need to Sesame Street it even more."

Now that's a nerb I can embrace. The truth is, it's not even an insult. I've touted my own version of Sesame Streeting, called "Good Grips Marketing." I remember reading that Good Grips kitchen products, which were intended for arthritic seniors, quickly caught on with the younger set. Why? Because there was something so simple about them, as if they looked at you and said, "Grab me here, and I won't let go." Next, I noticed how car dashboards were getting simplified. No more galaxies of buttons with no clear way of connecting the dots. Suddenly, everything was minimal and big. (It's a feature of my Honda Accord that I still appreciate.)

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: If you want someone to do something, make it easy. If you want them to understand something, make it fun. Is this a product of a twee culture that refuses to evolve from childhood? Well, maybe. But I think it's more a reflection of our ridiculously chaotic lives, and the fact that we'll throw our loyalties behind anyone who makes the extra effort to keep things simple.

Random Rewrite #3: Honda

The back cover of the July 2008 Harper's magazine displays a full-page ad for Honda. Blue sky, green grass, a father and son flying kites on a sunny summer day. After a stat showing that Honda has averaged five more miles per gallon than the industry average over the last 15 years, the copy reads:

Higher fuel efficiency, lower greenhouse gas emissions.
That's the power of dedication.

Over the past fifteen years, Honda has achieved the highest average fuel economy of any automaker. Which means our vehicles have emitted less CO2--the primary cause of global warming--on average, than any other car company. All of which enhances our ultimate goal: a cleaner environment.

HONDA
The Power of Dreams

* * *

It's a perfectly good ad, yet it seemed like a bit of a missed opportunity. Thanks to its own forays into hybrid technology, Honda has some legitimate environmental street cred, but the tone favors the advertiser over the audience (when you don't use the second person, you're not really talking to anybody). Plus, coupling "the power of dedication" with "the power of dreams" is a little confusing.

I would have written it slightly differently...

* * *

More miles to your gallon.
Less carbon in your atmosphere.

Spending less money at the pump isn't exactly a new idea. At Honda, we've been leading the charge for more than 15 years. Because giving you the best fuel economy of any automaker isn't just good for your pocketbook, it's better for the environment.

Green innovation is a goal for some automakers. For Honda, it's already a way of doing business.

HONDA
Innovation. Proven.

* * *

Previous Random Rewrites:

#2: AkzoNobel
#1: Nortel

BrandWatch: Leeann Chin

I have a rule of branding thumb that goes something like this: The minute a business that has always been known for one thing suddenly announces a seemingly unrelated thing, count the days until it closes, declares bankruptcy or gets snatched up in a hostile takeover. I call it BrandWatch.

Case in point: Five years ago, a bagel shop near my house stuck neon posters in the windows screaming "Now Selling Smoothies!" It was a jealous response to the popularity of nearby Jamba Juice, and everybody knew it. Within six months, that bagel shop was replaced by a Caribou Coffee. (On the other hand, the mom-and-pop photo developer that also sells umbrellas is mysteriously still in business...)

For several months, BrandWatch has been tracking two stalwart brands: Starbucks, as it retreats to focusing on coffee (a good idea after some overly aggressive food flirtations), and McDonald's, as it rolls out its premium coffee McCafes (an undeniably good revenue stream with a fantastic advertising campaign that should be another short-lived experiment).

Now, as of today, I've added Leeann Chin to the Watch. Why? Because new owner Lorne Goldberg has updated the menu (good), painted the walls lime and vermilion (great) and introduced Red Cherry Frozen Yogurt (what?).

Don't get me wrong. I picked up dinner at one of these new stores last night. The decor is lively. The menu is easier to understand. And the Red Cherry Yogurt display is a nice little eye-catcher with an attractive logo. But frozen yogurt? Personally, I go to Leeann Chin to deceive myself that I'm being healthy while eating sugary breaded meats (sesame chicken...yum) on top of carbalicious fried rice. Do I want to top that off with some frozen yogurt concoction that takes me back to the mid-80s? For me, the answer is a definite no; Leeann Chin might as well sell umbrellas. We'll see what the market decides.

Do You Have the Attention Span to Read This Post?

It all started when a friend of mine was talking about her experience teaching high school kids. We were on the subject of plagiarism and how the web enables it. The conversation shifted to the larger issue of IAIQO: Instantly Accessible Information of Questionable Origin, and that's when I learned something unexpected.

"My students don't check their sources and don't check the facts; they just cut and paste," my friend said. "But it's not because they're lazy. It's because they don't even understand the basic concept of synthesizing information, drawing their own conclusions and writing them down."

Wow, that's scary, I thought. It's as if the web is actually changing basic human cognition.

Enter the Atlantic Monthly. This month's cover story ("Is Google Making Us Stoopid?"), absolutely floored me with these opening remarks from author Nicholas Carr:

"I’m not thinking the way I used to think. I can feel it most strongly when I’m reading. Immersing myself in a book or a lengthy article used to be easy. My mind would get caught up in the narrative or the turns of the argument, and I’d spend hours strolling through long stretches of prose. That’s rarely the case anymore. Now my concentration often starts to drift after two or three pages. I get fidgety, lose the thread, begin looking for something else to do. I feel as if I’m always dragging my wayward brain back to the text. The deep reading that used to come naturally has become a struggle."

What floored me was the realization that Carr was describing me. I've had this exact same feeling lately, and I've been getting a little worried. Is my reading material just not as arresting as it used to be? Is my brain beginning its inevitable decline already?

Now, after finishing the article (well, almost... I got distracted), I'm wondering if technology is actually changing the way I think. I had come to think of A.D.D. as a scapegoat among adults--an enabling acronym used as cover for people who just don't like details. On the marketing side of things, I've long thought that the line of communication demarcation was the age of 30: over 30, narrative good; under 30, just show pretty pictures (or ask them to talk about themselves). Now it looks as though there's more of a spectrum at work, with the lines getting blurrier as human brains adapt themselves to the media we use, rather than the other way around.

I don't know what else to say about this development, except that in the course of writing this, I've received five emails and two IMs, checked the Dow, added my sister to my Facebook friends and... wait, my son is crying about something.

Did anyone make it to the end of this post?

Actually, Think Inside the Box

I was sitting in a small auditorium on the campus at Hamline University, listening to a young poet named Li-Young Lee. He was a wild and brilliant writer, incomprehensible to me most of the time. But as a speaker, he was amazingly clear, and one thing he said has always stuck with me. In discussing the abstract idea of contradiction, he said, "As an architect, the best way to communicate 'space' is to enclose it." If I remember right, to illustrate his point, he cited Grand Central Station.

Over time, I've shortened my interpretation of that insight to simply this: Creativity is born of restriction. Yes, popular culture is awash in stories and images of artists who only bloom when they shake the shackles of oppression--political, religious, cultural, mostly familial. And those who deal with creative types constantly hear them whine (often justifiably so) about being too restricted. But if you doubt that restriction is absolutely essential to creativity, keep in mind that poets themselves created the insane constraints of the haiku.

In my own experience, I've witnessed it several times. The song I use as the soundtrack for my Conk Creative website: We had just enough studio time left for one live take, and it turned out to be the most popular track on our CD (despite my sloppy guitar playing). The screenplay I recently optioned: I sputtered for more than a year until I decided that I had to complete a draft in time for a contest deadline. Even with this blog, I created the "CC Pick 3" email in part because I knew it would force me to publish at least three posts a month (this is number three for May). And keep in mind that pop songs and screenplays are already two of the most highly structured vehicles in their creative families. The latter is mandated to be written in three acts, not to exceed 120 pages in 12-pt. Courier font, with margins of 1.5 inches on the left, 1 inch on the right, top and bottom.

Most recently, I've enrolled for the 48 Hour Film Project, a contest in which you draw a genre out of a hat, then have 48 hours to create a film longer than four minutes, but less than seven minutes. We'll see if this level of restriction proves to be oppressive, liberating or both. (Note to clients: This post should have no bearing on setting deadlines for future projects...)

Focus vs. Inclusion Part II

For the original "Focus vs. Inclusion," click here.

Last week, I was sitting in a meeting with a successful but frustrated company. They had decided years ago to undergo one of those evolutions from "widget distributor" to "solutions provider," and their sales people still didn't get it.

Coming at it from the outside, I was having some trouble understanding what they did myself. On one hand, they were positioned at a high consultative level ("no matter what you manufacture, we can make you more efficient") that was industry agnostic. On the other hand, they still listed three specifics ("we specialize in these three areas of manufacturing"). So which was it?

Finally, I asked the president of the company a simple question: What don't you do? He was stumped. After thinking about it for several minutes, he eventually got a phone call, and the subject was dropped.

Since the day I started Conk Creative, I keep coming back to this recurring marketing/branding problem of focus vs. inclusion. It's getting clearer all the time, and it goes something like this:

- Sales people want "inclusion" because they never want to turn down an opportunity. The motivations are obvious. Basically, a sales person is conditioned to always say, no matter what the challenge, "Yes, we can help you with that." That translates to the customer as "we do everything."

- CFOs want "inclusion" because they see the world as a series of current and potential revenue streams. If there's money to be made, a client to be secured, a bottom line to be grown, they want it. This also translates to the world as "we do everything."

- People (and marketing professionals) want focus. I don't search Google for "help me do anything" or "people who can make me more efficient." I search for "plumbers," "watch repair," and, most recently, "child's leg swollen after DTP shot." (He's fine.)

These are specific. When I'm walking around a crowded world, I don't really have time to understand what a company called Stuff 'n' Things sells. In fact, they annoy me because they don't let my mind put them in a convenient category. But if they're called "Just Hats," well, I know where to go next time I want a hat.

Focus and Inclusion are constantly at war with each other, and the distinction isn't always so clear cut. After all, Target sells almost everything as far as product, but what it really sells is "discount chic," and it's been brilliant at marketing it. (Though I still have a hunch that Super Targets won't last forever... the grocery thing is pushing it.)

Starbucks is probably the best example. It broke through the branding clutter by out-focusing everybody and just selling high-quality coffee. It then managed to evolve a little bit into a lifestyle brand by producing and distributing select CDs and books. But now (after going too far with breakfast sandwiches, among other things), guess what? It's back to coffee basics, hearkening back to its very first store by promoting Pike Place Roast.

I suspect that the focus-focused internal Starbucks brand champions finally won out over the pure revenue stream crowd... because the customer was starting to get confused.

Random Rewrite #2: AkzoNobel

Here's a classic case of what I suspect is an overly vetted corporate merger ad (appearing in today's Wall Street Journal).

Existing copy reads:

Joining Forces: AkzoNobel and ICI

Together, we're stronger. The integration of ICI into AkzoNobel has created a major industrial company. We now have the combined creative force of more than 60,000 individuals. The new AkzoNobel is the world's largest coatings manufacturer, the number one in decorative paints, and a leading supplier of specialty chemicals. We not only think with passion, but we also have the expertise to deliver on our ideas. By pushing our imagination beyond the normal limits, we're continuing to color, protect and transform virtually every aspect of daily life. For everyone across the globe. We're AkzoNobel. We're committed to delivering Tomorrow's Answers Today.

* * *

As an average Joe reading the Journal, I'm a little confused. I suppose it doesn't help that I've never heard of either of these companies (AkzoNobel is Dutch, as it turns out). I gather from the copy that they're in the paints and coatings business. But what does an abstract tagline like "Tomorrow's Answers Today" have to do with paint? And what's the benefit to me that they've "joined forces"? The positioning is overly vague. The tone is too self-serving. And frankly, it's a little dull for a self-proclaimed "color company."

* * *

I would have done it more like this:

The New AkzoNobel: Expanding the Spectrum

Ask Vincent van Gogh: The most striking colors come from unique combinations. That's how we feel now that ICI has joined forces with AkzoNobel. We're a new company, with an even bolder vision, backed by 60,000 innovators in 80 countries, ready to help you achieve a personal brush with greatness each and every day.

The world's leading developer of coatings, decorative paints and specialty chemicals. All in one place.

Now that's a good mix.

The New AkzoNobel
success ... in color

"Educating" vs. "Marketing"

When companies get together to figure out how to market a new service or product, many strategic planning sessions eventually reach a point that I like to call "Pull the Leash." (Actually, I just made that up, but pretend it's something I trademarked five years ago.)

Pull the Leash happens when everyone in the meeting--Sales, Marketing, R&D, you name it--becomes passionate about the idea that if their customers knew as much about the product's features as they did, they would buy it instantly. It's as if the customer is on a leash, sniffing the bushes of competitors, and you can give them a yank and force them back to learning everything you know.

It's the moment when someone says "we need to educate the marketplace" or "we need to launch an awareness campaign."

Now, as the son of a university administrator and a music teacher, I will never underestimate the importance of education. Nor will I jump to the other extreme and claim that marketing has to be so focused on creating an image or selling a benefit as to be allergic to informing.

But Pull the Leash is almost always a sure sign that your perspective is too internally focused. It's the moment when you need to step outside the office and spend some time living in the same world as your customers. Do you, as an average person, sit around hoping that everyone who sells you something might try to educate you a little more about it? Are you all too eager to turn off The Daily Show after the kids go to bed so you can learn everything there is to know about non-bleach, hypoallergenic paper towels? It might be important for purchases of exceptional interest or cost, but in general, the answer is no.

Your customers' lives are just as busy, noisy and chaotic as yours. To affect their behavior, I think the simplest rule is this:

If you want someone to do something, make it easy. If you want someone to know something, make it fun.

Who's the Decider?

About a year ago, I was hired to name a new product. It was a fantasy project. The product was not only innovative, but entirely ground-breaking from an environmental perspective. I plunged into the job, learning everything I could about the industry, the competition, every technical aspect of the technology involved.

I developed a presentation that outlined all of the thinking that went into my final name choices. I presented them all, noting which I one I recommended most and why. The key to success, I was told by the marketing team who brought me in, was swaying the product developer, a marketing skeptic who loved to chew up agency types and spit them out.

After my presentation, I looked to The Skeptic. He rubbed his chin, seemed nonplussed. After an interminable silence, he finally spoke. "I'm warming to it," he said. By the end of the meeting, he was excited, animated, riffing on all the ways the name could be used. It was a huge success. I was on top of the world.

And then it all died.

Getting past the product developer, I was now told, was only the first hoop. The real key was getting past Person X, who served as gatekeeper to the CEO. Person X didn't like my name.

"Can we get the name in front of the CEO directly?" I asked. No, it has to go through X. "Okay," I said. "But can I at least talk to the CEO, since he's the ultimate decision-maker?" No, only X can talk to the CEO. "Can I meet X then, so I know what he's looking for?" No, only we can talk to X.

As you can imagine, the process quickly descended into chaos. Gone were the well-thought-out ideas and slick presentations. Names were just words, and words were commodities. "We need 15 more names by the end of the day" became an almost daily request. Alas, a name was finally chosen, and it wasn't one of mine. By the end, the entire company was involved, so it could have come from Marty in Accounting.

I see this situation often, and I always feel for the marketers. They're trying to do their job, but they often serve as little more than gatekeepers, or gatekeepers to other gatekeepers. One day they're trusted implicitly; the next day, they're told not to even decide on the trade show booth carpeting without 10 approvals.

But from the creative perspective, there's simply no substitute for direct access to the ultimate decision-maker. As much as you'd like to think that you're developing ideas for the real audience (the consumer), the hard reality is that if the person writing the check doesn't like it, you're not going to get anywhere.

What Is Web 2.0... I Mean, Really?

A friend and I were joking last week that the next time someone asks, "What is Web 2.0?" we should reply: "A way for young people to make money off old people."

It's a cynical answer, but there's a point. A casualty of the Internet Age is reason; a winner is fear. Change happens so quickly, each micro generation growing up with a better version of the web, that older generations grow increasingly confused and fearful. The result: A 24-year-old agency wunderkind can sit in a meeting and jabber about "social bookmarking" while his older account exec exclaims "you mean you don't have a YouTube?!", and the fearful marketing director will buckle--especially if he was told to "do something with Web 2.0."

Fear need not apply. Web 2.0 a simple phenomenon. You just have to look at it from a psychological (rather than technological) perspective:

No matter how old you are, but especially when you're younger, whom do you trust the most? Your friends. From a marketing perspective, Web 2.0 is simply this: a way to make it easier to trust your friends.

The revolution is real. The younger the person, the less she trusts any authority, at least directly. Today, Facebook is the epicenter of all social interaction. Next year, it might be something else. The point is that the web now gives everybody a powerful stamp of endorsement. If your friends don't endorse the movie, the video game, the political candidate, the car, then neither will you. (That sound you hear is Roger Ebert losing his relevance.)

As a marketer, your job is exactly the same in one way and completely different in another. You still need to influence people. You just have to do it in a different place and in a different way. It's not about shouting from the rooftops. It's about a new concept both shocking and hilarious in its irony: "perceived authenticity."

Do You Suffer from ISS?

Books could be written about the psychology of promotional campaigns--not the campaigns themselves, but the interaction between the organizations and agencies that create them. The most interesting phenomenon is what I call Interim Solution Syndrome, or ISS.

ISS often starts with a mixture of envy and aspiration. You want to launch a new service or product line. You want it to be just as good as what your competitors did last year, as entertaining as your favorite Super Bowl ad, as edgy as that YouTube video you got last week, as "out of the box" as that company's crazy booth at the show in Vegas.

There's only one problem: The budget isn't there.

This is the germ of ISS. You're stuck between wanting the highest quality but keeping it within budget. If it doesn't measure up to what your competitors did creatively, there'll be Hades to pay. But if it costs a fortune... well, there's no way to slip it by Accounting.

You know you've contracted full-fledged ISS when you start saying the following:

"We just need something for right now, then we can go back and change it."
"This is just a Phase I. We'll worry about that in a Phase II."
"We just need a band aid."
"We want something with great photography like this, but we can use stock."

Unfortunately, the reality sinks in mid-project. The "right now" solution doesn't look so hot. Phase II never comes. The stock photography is all over the map, and if you want to keep using it, the royalty fees are more than the photo shoot would have cost in the first place.

This is the evil of the Interim Solution. Psychologically, it's a salve. Realistically, it's a trap.

Agencies are complicit, because they take the job thinking they'll convince you to up the budget as you go. (Agencies are driven by their portfolios. They want to create work that makes clients happy. But secretly, they're more interested in creating work that wins awards and helps them get new clients.)

So what do you do? Plan ahead, secure the right budget and set the right expectations. Hah! Just kidding (can you hear the howls of laughter from marketing VPs on the verge?).

Just be realistic. As a marketer, don't expect to get a Nike ad for $10,000. As an agency, don't over-promise and under-deliver. Recognize an interim solution for what it is:

An interim solution.

Blog Post for Dummies

Note: This post was inspired by a bathroom ad for Trojan condoms. There, I said it.

Marketing 101 would dictate that one should never insult one's customers, right? Wrong.

Imagine this: A young entrepreneur sits in a glossy 14th-floor conference room and makes his pitch to three suits at a global publishing conglomerate. "Here's the thing," he explains. "People want to know how to do things. We publish a series on how to do stuff, in a really easy format. We could start with gardening."

"Great," the brass reply. "What should we call it?"

"Gardening for Dummies."

Boom! Fifteen jaws hit the floor in unison. "We can't insult our customers! Who's going to buy something that calls them a 'dummy'?"

As it turns out, quite a few (I think I just saw "Making Whole Wheat Pumpernickel Bread With Sesame Seeds For Dummies" at Barnes & Noble). Now Trojan is calling its customers "pigs" and telling them to evolve. I'll bet you anything it's working.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not suggesting that General Motors go out tomorrow with an TV campaign called, "Hey, Moron, Buy a Chevy!" But in general, people are far more forgiving (and self-deprecating) than we give them credit for. It's another case of "focus" vs. "inclusion." When you have the opportunity to really cut through with 80 percent of your market, it can actually be worth the risk of alienating (or mildly offending) the other 20. Only an idiot would feel otherwise.

What's in a name? Quite a bit...

You know that strange phenomenon... the closer you live to something, the less you actually see it? Guests come to visit. In one day, they ride a paddle boat down the Mississippi River, check out the newest exhibit at the Walker and grab lunch at that adorable Italian restaurant around the corner. You avoid eye contact, embarrassed to admit that you've never done any of those things.

The same thing happens in marketing. People forget that the most prominent aspect of their brand is the name of their company. Seeing it every day, they tune it out, ignore it, or even work against it. (I once worked with a client whose company had a particular word in its name... let's say it was "Easy_______, Inc." One time, they actually said, "We want to avoid using the word 'easy'; it doesn't really describe us.")

I often find myself helping people get back to basics. When we hit a stumbling block, it's fundamentals time: The name of your company is _________. You sell _________. The name of the product you're most known for is ____________. Embrace these things. I know you're really sick of the Pantone Red 486 that's in your logo, on the walls and on every chair in the company cafeteria... and it's tempting to do that new microsite in blue. But don't.

The minute you're tired of saying or seeing something is usually the point when the rest of the world is just beginning to notice it.

And that starts with your name.

Random Rewrite #1: Nortel

Today, I'm beginning a recurring feature on C2C that I call "Random Rewrites," in which I randomly rewrite any piece of marketing, advertising or corporate communication that catches my eye.

Today's rewrite comes from a banner ad currently showing on the cnn.com landing page. I was struck my the shear volume of copy on the ad, as well its "inside baseball" language, so I clicked on it. Here's what the jump page said, followed by how I think it should read:

Unified or Mystified?

Gartner positions Nortel in the Leader's Quadrant in the 2007 Unified Communications Magic Quadrant. Gartner, the leading provider of research and analysis on the global information technology industry, positions Nortel in the Leader's quadrant of its Unified Communications Magic Quadrant report, published August 20, 2007 and authored by Bern Elliot.

The Magic Quadrant report positions vendors in one of four quadrants, based on a company's vision and ability to execute that vision. "The Leaders quadrant contains vendors selling comprehensive and integrated UC solutions that directly, or with well-defined partnerships, address the full range of market needs. These vendors have defined migration and evolution plans for their products in core UC areas and are using their solution sets to enter new clients into their client roster, and to expand their footprint in their existing client base in new function areas."

Register for the report by filling out the form below.

How should this copy read? I would suggest speaking from the audience's perspective, not assuming that they understand all of the jargon (especially "UC"), and adopting a smart tone that understands the larger economic context, offers a tangible and immediate benefit, and sounds as though it is informing and helping the reader:

[banner ad copy]

The Secret to Winning
in a Recession Is Here.

[jump site copy]

The economy is tightening. Uncertainty reigns. New efficiencies are essential.

Today, there’s no faster way to stabilize and boost margins than through UC: Unified Communications—merging desktop phone, legacy PBX and IP-PBX, Internet, voicemail and fax systems into a single streamlined profit center.

Who is the leader in this burgeoning field? Gartner Group, the world's most trusted global IT research firm, has named it.

Nortel.

Gartner Group placed Nortel in the Leader's Quadrant in its most recent Unified Communications Magic Quadrant. What does this mean to you? That a trusted third party ranks Nortel’s vision—and ability to execute that vision—among the very best.

We invite you to see the report for yourself. Simply take 60 seconds to register below, and you'll receive a full copy... free.

Focus vs. Inclusion

One of the hardest jobs for any marketing professional is the struggle between focus and inclusion. What do I mean? I'll tell you a quick story.

I once sat in a meeting with a new client who was absolutely passionate about their company and their target customers. They were NOT all things to all people. They existed solely to promote political candidates on one (proudly) extreme end of the spectrum. That's what set them apart from their wishy-washy competitors. Even their mailroom guy was a card-carrying member of their movement.

Great, I said, that kind of specificity is marketing Nirvana. Here's the angle you need to go with. You're about more than tactics. You're about "the movement." Brand yourself by branding the movement. Name it. Define it. Certify people as being inside or outside of it. Create a stamp for it, like “USDA Top Choice” or “The Real Seal.” If you grab this space quickly and aggressively, you'll cut through the clutter, be true to your brand and attract exactly the clients you’re looking for.

They agreed. They were thrilled. They went back to redesign their logo, retool their brand and redo their website. They were grateful for an outside perspective that gave them focus.

I checked the website recently (this was a client at my former agency), and what did I see? A much-improved design, yes, but accompanied by positioning that was abstract, unspecific and noncommittal. If you were to visit their site without knowing who they were, you would assume they were happy to promote any politician from Barney Frank to Dick Cheney.

Why did this happen? I imagine it was another case of inclusion defeating focus. Companies in myriad industries often reach a point where they want to focus the message. They go down that road—often led by the marketing VP, who understands the power of specificity—only to be forced into last-minute retreat by the powers above them (or by last-minute jitters about doing something aggressive that might cost them their job if it doesn't work).

This is where thoughts shift from “we need to go after x” to “wait a minute, if we say x, we’re alienating y.” Even though “x” represents 70 percent of the total market, or 100 percent of the desired market, “y” still represents potential revenue. The result: Focus withers. Inclusion reigns.

(That is, until a competitor successfully focuses their message and starts cherry-picking clients. Then the battle starts anew...)

Do Websites Need Words?

At the agency I left before starting Conk Creative, I spent the last six months saying that I no longer saw a reason why websites should have words. As a writer by trade, this was hard to admit. (The irony isn't lost on me that I'm stating this theory in words, on a blog no less... ) And the truth is, Google search rankings are one big hole in my theory, as people use words to find websites with with those same words.

But between YouTube, high-speed Internet connections and improvements in video compression, the idea of "the wordless website" stuck with me... maybe not for everybody, but definitely for people in the creative fields.

As of today, I've taken my own medicine. This morning, I launched the first Conk Creative website. I plan to add video case studies in the very near future, but this is the fulfillment of a vision I woke up with six weeks ago: Why write everything down and make people work to find out who you are, what you do and whom you've worked with, when you can play guitar instead?

See what you think: conkcreative.net

Excellent Example of Creative Clarity

Here's a piece of communication that works on just about every level.

A) I received it from a friend, so it's officially "viral."
B) It humanizes its message by using a real (and authentic) narrator.
C) It mixes video and illustration in an easy-to-follow and compelling way.

The subject could certainly be considered "politically charged," but if you look past that, it's quite a brilliant use of narrative and technology to educate in an entertaining way.

Let me know what you think.

http://www.storyofstuff.com/

What the Oscars Tell Us About Ourselves

I'm a bit of an Oscar fiend, and I love the talk-radio lead-up to the show almost as much as I like making fun of the dresses with my wife. This year, it has occurred to me that little Oscar tells us a lot about ourselves (and the media). For example:

- Outsider Lust. The media love to talk about how the Coen Brothers are "outside the normal Hollywood system." They live in New York, not L.A. When they write a screenplay, they claim not to know what's going to happen on the next page. They don't make guest appearances on "Entourage." They're just plain weird.

- First-timer Obsession. The media are infatuated with "Juno" screenwriter Diablo Cody. What's not to like? First-time screenwriter. Former stripper. Now presumed Oscar winner. That's a little more interesting than the guy who got nominated after going through UCLA film school, was Tori Spelling's personal assistant and failed with his first seven scripts.

- "One of Us"-itis. In Minnesota, the coverage of the Coens and Cody has been borderline insufferable. Cody wrote the script at a Starbucks while living here between Chicago and L.A. The Coens share the same hometown (St. Louis Park) as Al Franken and Tom Friedman. (I remember during "Titanic" Fever seeing a local news story on some guy from St. Paul whose cousin painted one of the sets. That was after the lead story on squirrels.)

- The Icarus Complex. Both of the above are now in backlash mode. I call it the Icarus Complex: After we--and the media--hoist you up, we will grow sick of you and Lucy your football. (Sorry, too many analogies there, but I think Jesse Ventura gets my drift). Diablo Cody is now an affront to real birth mothers. "No Country for Old Men" is now overrated, its ending abrupt and obtuse. "Atonement," much ballyhooed when it premiered, is now a bore. Why, the jaded Time magazine movie critic asked yesterday on KFAN, aren't we recognizing less snobby fare like "Knocked Up," or long-overlooked actors like Hal Holbrook?

- Quality Depreciation. Two things you can set your clock by: In the winter, the media will question whether the Oscars are still relevant. In the fall, they will question whether "Saturday Night Live" has lost its edge. As we grow older, we insist that each is losing its luster... that SNL was best with Chevy Chase and John Belushi (and later, Bill Murray). And that the Oscars are never better than with Billy Crystal as host.

(Such beliefs are simply a product of romanticizing one's own past. Yet, I have to agree with both.)

Trendy vs. Tried and True

I was sitting among 500 people in the master ballroom of a Vancouver hotel. It was day one of the IABC (International Association of Business Communicators) conference, and I had a pretty clear idea what was to come. This first seminar was about technology. I expected to get one or two data nuggets, but nothing revolutionary.

Two hours later, my brain emerged fully liquefied from an intellectual Cuisinart. The two presenters, one American, one Dutch, had covered blogging, Skype, RSS feeds, del.icio.us, Digg, Technorati, social media and Web 2.0—as several people around me, laptops like extended limbs, live-blogged about the presentation itself.

I felt like someone who had just experienced his first earthquake. Apparently, while I had been sitting comfortably in my padded Midwestern cell, the whole world had changed. I thought I was toast unless I could catch up. Immediately.

Fast forward two days. I’m now sitting in a smaller, partitioned room. The conservative-looking presenter paces and speaks, uses nothing more than an old-school overhead projector as a visual aid. After his recent tenure as the World Bank’s director of communications, what had he identified as the secret to effective communication? Storytelling.

Storytelling?! You mean, the thing that's been around since Cro-Magnon Man?

Yes. Case in point, when he wanted to convince World Bank leadership to move the organization from a lending institution to a global information broker, no one took him seriously. He presented compelling statistics, projected beautiful PowerPoints. Deaf ears. Nothing.

Then he told a story. A local government in Argentina had recently contacted his office wanting to know which type of asphalt to use for a certain kind of road-building. They connected this group with a similar group in Europe that had faced (and solved) the same issue. Connection made, problem solved. Imagine, he said, what we could accomplish just by being the string between the tin cans. It worked.

I find sales, marketing and communications people often caught between the two worlds of “trendy” and “tried and true.” One day, it’s pressure to find out what this social media thing is all about. (“Why don’t we have a Facebook page and a Second Life headquarters?”) The next day, it’s, “Why are we doing all this edgy stuff. We’ve lost focus... let’s go back to our bread and butter.”

It’s a tough line to walk—in fact, balancing tried-and-true principles (telling a good story) with trendy new technologies and media outlets (blogging) might be a communicator’s biggest challenge. But, needless to say, having the judgment to make that call—which requires equal parts open-mindedness and healthy skepticism—can be tremendously effective.

Welcome.

One thing you're not supposed to do in any profession is give free advice. But that's not exactly what this blog is for.

It seems fitting to start this blog with a Conk Creative anti-manifesto.

In my experience, people connected to the marketing world love to think and talk about the art of communication, but they don't have time for it. By sheer necessity, they can't think about tomorrow because they have to get through today. They'd love to see the world from 60,000 feet, but they can't get there because... well, there's a trade show in two weeks and the booth isn't ready, and we have a product launch in a month, and when are we going to finally redo our website? And damn, my entire day is blocked out with meetings.

I'm offering this blog not as a one-sided conversation, but as a dialogue. Since I started my personal blog nearly a year ago, I've realized that we make hundreds of observations every day (personal, professional, emotional, intellectual, cultural, catty) that go un-communicated. I feel sorry for these observations. There's no telling where they might go if they were just expressed, read and commented upon.

So that's what this blog is really for. We're all in this together. We're all trying to keep up with a world that never stops shifting under our feet. The only real way to make progress is to realize that things have grown so complex, so fast, that the idea of a "marketing guru" is an impossible relic of the past (if it existed at all).

True insight and real progress come through humility and collaboration. So here we go. Ready?

- CC