BrandWatch: The Photographer's Guild

Apparently, you can call the Photographer's Guild on Snelling and Selby for any of the following:
- Weddings
- Portraits
- Commercial
- Geo-Political Consultation

(And I thought it was weird that LeeAnn Chin was selling frozen yogurt...)

Ah, the Good Old Days...

The Incredible Effectiveness of Contrarian Marketing

It's rare that a piece of marketing really impresses me, but this one figuratively blew me away.

In a move to become less selfish (and knowing that my family is incredibly lucky while lots of people are really hurting right now), I recently gave some money to Second Harvest. I probably responded to the organization's latest direct mail campaign because I remember Bruce Springsteen talking them up during one of his recent concerts. (That's some high-level product placement...)

Anyway, in considering an organization that can enlist The Boss, I thought I knew what to expect in the way of follow-up. So when I received the standard thank-you note envelope in the mail recently, I knew it was going to be either the type-written form letter or the more advanced it-looks-type-written-but-it's-actually-just-Lucinda-Handwriting-font-with-your-first-name-ink-jetted- at-the-top-through-the-printer's-list-merge-program form letter.

But I was wrong. Take a look at this. It's a handwritten note. I repeat: an actual handwritten note! I've long considered the benefits of going totally contrarian in marketing (like responding to the current Twitter Mania by telling my clients to reach their target customers by sending them telegrams), but this is Marketing Contrarianism at its best. When is the last time you read a handwritten note, especially from a total stranger? (When's the last time you actually sent a handwritten letter? Or any letter?)

Bravo, Second Harvest. You're a great organization in every way, and I'm happy to use this supposedly advanced social media tool to promote your beautifully inspired use of a lost art--and to encourage everyone who reads this to support your cause.

Attention Deadline Disorder

I like coming up with axioms to explain behavior, because it creates a nice illusion of understanding and control. So far, I have only two axioms (axii?) that I consider iron-clad, battle-tested and USDA approved.

Axiom #1. The speed of a driver is directly proportional to his or her height. (The shorter the driver, the slower the driver... or at least, if you find yourself behind a really slow driver, chances are you can't even see his or her head in the front seat.)

Axiom #2. In marketing, a client's attention to a project is inversely proportional to the number of days before its deadline. Translation: People don't really start paying to attention to anything until it's due.

You know what I'm talking about. I recently completed a project that went something like this:

30 days before deadline
Client: "This is fantastic. No changes."

15 days before deadline
Client: "Just a few little tweaks."

3 days before deadline
Client: "What's with all the em dashes?!"

Don't get me wrong. The client is great. I'm observing, not judging. After all, I tend to write these posts starting about three days before I plan on sending the outgoing email. (Guilty as charged...)

Clarity Is Good

(Warning: This post is incredibly self-serving. But then again, so is this entire blog.)

After harping on bloated branding exercises, busy graphic design and the oft-made tragic choices of "inclusion" over "focus," I'm happy to share a Conk Creative campaign that will hopefully bring clarity (and excitement) to an unlikely place: academia.

About four months ago, I was hired by a group at the University of Iowa called the Iowa Center for Developmental and Learning Sciences (ICDLS). Yes, despite my resume in fitness, technology, manufacturing and media, this group trusted an outsider to take on a project in the world of high-powered university research (an area no less competitive than the others, by the way).

The core membership of the ICDLS is a group of professors who know more about human learning and development than you and I can ever dream of. In their market, they're the upstart Davids in a world dominated by old-school Goliaths--the Apple trying to break the grip of the oppressive PC by exposing "nature vs. nurture" as a false choice and bringing gene worship back down to earth.

They invited me to come down to Iowa City, do interviews, learn about what they do, and develop a marketing plan. The marketing plan turned into a Brand Blueprint, and the recommendations were aggressive. Change your name. Design a new logo. Embrace a new icon. Change the way you talk about yourselves. Launch a new website. Make a video. Start a Facebook page.

To my shock and awe, they took every recommendation and re-hired me to help them execute the plan. In two months.

The result was a classic example of strong collaboration and applying creativity not only to materials, but to budgets. Not enough money for a full video? We created simple "Lessig-style" videos out of the interviews I had recorded. Can't hire out the entire website? Fine, we'll do the overall logo and graphic design and turn the buildout over to your internal staff.

As of today, the new website is live. The ICDLS is now the Delta Center. The launch party is tomorrow, and I'm headed down to IC. Feels good to walk the walk.

(Here's the website.)

Handshake Watch 2009

A simple word of advice. If you're putting together any promotional vehicle--be it a brochure, a direct mail piece or some Flash loop for an upcoming trade show--and you or your designer don't know which image to use for that section about Partnership--do not... I repeat, DO NOT reach for that shaking hands stock image.

Generic Handshake Stock Photography Users: Consider yourselves on notice.

Beware the Bloated Branding Process

In 2000, Saturday Night Live ran a TV ad for a fictional company called Westlink. Filled with beautifully vague images--a hang glider soars past a mountain top, Japanese children carry parasols, an elderly man walks with a pick-axe swung over his shoulder--it ended with an authoritative announcer stating, "Westlink: Even we don't know what we do."

I think of this ad when I see some of the bloated branding processes that flood the marketplace today. I'm sure that many of these processes (which are supposed to bring clarity to confused brands) are wonderful and worthwhile. But the last two that companies have shared with me seem built to achieve one of three objectives: to confuse, to introduce unnecessary complexity, or to fatten the agency's profit margins.

One was a finished brand consulting report filled with page after page of the company's supposed Core This and Core That. ("Core Values: Integrity, Innovation, Service"; "Core Personality Traits: Passion, Commitment, Fun!")

My Core Reaction: Puke. By the time I was finished, I was not only unable to determine what made the company unique; I couldn't even discern its industry. The second was a bloated but extremely well-designed proposal for a long and intensive branding process. The price tag: $75,000.

These kinds of reports make me want to swing a dead cat. Not because I don't think branding processes are worthwhile (everybody could use one). And not because they're packaged (I have my own, called Brand Intervention). It's because they're ultimately little more than a clever way of monetizing corporate navel-gazing. Who doesn't want to believe that their company, organization, product or department isn't centered on Integrity, Innovation, Commitment, Service and Passion? Is it worth $75,000 to pay an agency to say that, just to make you feel good (and to sound just like everybody else)?

I work from a simple premise: Marketing isn't about saying what you want to say; it's about saying what people want to hear. Sound crass? Sorry, but it's the reality. Sound manipulative? It is if you can't back it up. But the truth is, if you're not offering people what they want in the first place, and then telling them about it in ways they can understand and get behind, then you're in the wrong business or targeting the wrong customer. In other words, you've got bigger problems than branding.

Like good writing, good marketing isn't about more; it's about less... about stripping things away, making them simpler. Good designers, writers, photographers, videographers and motion graphics experts all know that one marketing cliche will always ring true: less is more.

Which reminds me, it's time to end this post.