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