Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I Can Smell Garlic on You.

My wife and mother-in-law have two interesting (and some might say contradictory) characteristics. First, my mother-in-law has a sense of smell that bests a bloodhound. If you've been chopping onions...say...a state away, she can smell it. She's a pretty good cook, so I imagine the enhanced sense of smell comes in handy.

Here's the rub. My wife's special talent is that if she eats garlic or onions or shallots she smells of them. I know someone smelling of a little garlic when they eat it is not too uncommon, but with Maura, it is nearly instantaneous. Obviously, we have little fear of vampires.

The whole situation has become a bit tense. My wife, self-conscious of the fact that she smells like garlic, gets annoyed when her mother asks who has been eating garlic. My mother-in-law is just annoyed that someone smells like garlic.

As I stated, while impressive, my wife's feat is not so unusual. I've heard that if you drink too much carrot juice you'll turn orange. Only after I learned that tanning beds also turn people orange did I reverse my assumption that our college cheerleaders drank too much carrot juice. My friend Blake claims that if you drink a particular brand of beer from a can it will make you smell like metal, though I am unclear as to whether he is describing the elemental metals or the musical genre popularized by hit band Metallica.

Mr. Slim Goodbody says you are what you eat and I believe him. The things we eat begin to show on us. That's why I have a corkscrew tail, Ho Hos for fingers and a keg for a stomach. But what about companies? Do the things they ingest seep through the skin? Can a company's internal state penetrate its exterior? Let's dive a bit deeper into this.

A good friend of mine turned me on to a training exercise to get employees, stakeholders and friends of a brand to live the brand's essence. I bet you think that's a bit campy, but I have to disagree. It was actually nice to sit in a boardroom and hear people from all rungs of an organization talk about the company's values and how those values inform decisions. In a training I conducted, I once heard lower level employees actually chide the management for not "living the brand" in their decisions. It was awesome.

But should you really live the brand? In a skin-deep sense, I think many managers would agree that it's a good idea. But should living the brand escape the few cubicles that make up the marketing department? Now that's a whole different ballgame. Plenty of people are willing to live the brand by hanging a banner in the lunchroom, but when it comes to living the brand when dealing with suppliers, Wall Street and other non-marketing associates the oft response is, "These are serious business matters not left to the quacks in marketing".

So my bigger question is this: When your company fails to truly live the brand, can consumers smell it on you? If a company tells you they are "raising the bar" or have "higher standards" and then they leave you on hold or talking to someone who cannot pronounce your name (or the company name, for that matter), can you smell it?

This raises another common business question. How many of the things we say we do in marketing do we actually do? If we say we believe in a certain value, would our employees disagree? Do we live what we say or is it just fodder for the sale?

A brand essence and corporate culture seeps through to the outside via customer service, employee conversations, publicized decisions and every other leak in a company's ship.

I am reminded of a story brought to me by a great intern. He had read that a particular car company had announced that it would be repositioning one of its brands to take on the luxury market, hoping to chase down higher margins. In the same article, the company said part of its plan was to build the soon-to-be-luxury brand using parts from one of its several anything-but-luxury brands. My intern was confused and asked me for an explanation. I asked him, "Who would be excited about the prospect of trying to sell a car for more while using cheaper stuff to build it?"

"One group," he answered, "Wall Street".

We found humor in that this car company seemed aloof to the fact that consumers would be reading the declaration as well. Who wants to buy a car built with cheaper parts for more money? Who believes this company's claim of luxury when we now all know it's built with a plastic engine? Who smells like garlic?

So what does your company smell of? Do you truly live your brand? To steal a few words from Gatorade, "Is it in you?" Do you live it or just say it? Here are a few questions to jump start your thinking.


1. What exactly do we stand for?
2. What is our brand's position in the market?
3. How do our values and brand essence inform non-marketing procedures?
4. How good have we been at communicating our brand inside of the organization, but outside of the marketing department?
5. Do we allow people to participate in the brand and make suggestions for improvement and evolution?

To see how your company is living its brand may take some poking and prodding. The whole concept may be a bit ethereal to some hard-nosed managers. You might dig and find the wonderful spirit of your brand's values. Then again, you might find that your organization's commitment to brand values is a bunch of BS. In which case, imagine what you might smell like to prospective consumers. Because you don't need a nose like my mother-in-law to smell BS.

Steve's Advice.

Steve is a man among men. When it comes to reliability of advice, Steve gives my lawyer and accountant a run for my money, both of whom have plenty of my money to run with.

Steve is not my life coach, yoga instructor or some guru helping me center my chi. Steve is oft our waiter at the famous Five and Ten in Athens. Whenever we go there, we request Steve and he makes a special effort to get us a good table in his section.

A few years back Maura and I were having dinner at Five and Ten when we had a question about a particular wine. Steve made a recommendation. Then he brought us a sample. Then he retrieved a dusty old book from the back detailing growing region, good years and recommended pairings.

For those of you who don't love wine, this might seem like a bit much. But you should understand this situation in context. Five and Ten is a restaurant for people who love food. The menu is incredibly inventive. The atmosphere is classy yet homey.
Steve's actions were those of a person who truly lives their brand and it made an impression on us.

In subsequent trips, Maura and I always asked Steve's opinion. We trust him because he has earned our trust. To us, he is as much of the brand as anything else.

When I started writing this, I had originally thought of writing it about customer service or living a brand's values. While I have written about the latter subjects, however, I have neglected to write about what I believe to be one of the most crucial people in the success of a brand. Like Steve, these brand champions embody their brands and carry them out with enthusiasm and joy. Their actions may seem over the top. Their dedication to the brand might seem obsessive. But they inspire great things like loyalty, creativity and communication, just to name a few. They are the tipping point for a brand success. They are the inspirational brand managers.

Perhaps the best, and definitely most entertaining, way for me to tell you about inspirational brand managers is for me show some contrasts between good marketing management and tomfoolery. With these examples drawn in negative space, you might begin to see the potential of a positive figure.

We all have a story or two of blunder and high jinx on the high seas of industry. I once had a brand manager who was an executive assistant before "leading" the marketing department and whose job was more to cover incompetence than to market anything. Her best sell was the idea that she knew what she was doing, which was still unsuccessful as it failed the maxim of truth in advertising. I had one manager who pingponged between our firm and the client's 12-member marketing committee, whose only standing commitment was to agree to disagree about everything. Before that job she had been in charge of setting up special events and, in a rare moment of agreement by the marketing committee, that was the job to which she promptly returned. I once had a client rep, working as the brand manager, who spoke as if he was dictating a memo. Honestly, few things I've experienced in client relations are as marginalizing as someone saying, "Jeff...Subject: Quarterly sales result...Participants: You, me, my assistant Susan...Conducted: via conference call". I thought he was perpetually whacked out on psychotropic mushrooms.

Then again, I've also had some great ones. I've had a few brand managers that after meeting them for five minutes you want to be part of their team, because whatever they do will be innovative and successful. I have worked with brand managers who make and maintain perfect teams, where they foster great collaborative work and in which they participate, rather than looming from above. I have had a few marketing managers who have walked through fire for their people, ideas and company. It is truly something to see when you witness a marketing manager stand up, look down the boardroom table and tell the CEO, "With all due respect, we're right about this".

I don't know if great marketing leaders are born or made. Of the truly great ones I have met, their education did not play a dominant role in their success. Every great one I have worked with had a particular uniqueness about them that bordered on eccentric. Every single one has an excellent sense of humor. They always have raucous stories about seemingly innocuous things and I suspect their keen interest in people and situations makes such possible.

To detail out the characteristics that made my favorite marketing leaders so great is impossible for me. But what proves helpful is looking at a few similarities they share. And perhaps through understanding these interesting people, you and I might better equip ourselves and our companies with their approach.


More egghead than blockhead.

My favorite marketing directors are all voracious consumers of information. They read about trends and case reviews and techniques. They use information as leverage and the upper hand they often get on a competitor might have been gleaned late one night from a book rather than some grand strategizing on the 60th floor. That's not to say they aren't great at strategy; they are. But their approach to strategy formation is always evolving, which is how they bring fresh perspective to each effort. For at least a few of them, I have wondered what remarkable professors they might have been or one day be.


Quarterback, head cheerleader and coach in one.

I have always been amazed at how great marketing directors can help facilitate a discussion, participate in it, and yet also lead it, all at one time. The truly great ones make leadership something that their team desires rather than resents. And when you have worked for a great marketer, you're tempted to follow them wherever success might take them.

This team member/leader role empowers others to give the best of their abilities. When a staff member feels valued and respected, they can create approaches that stretch beyond competitors' restraints because they no longer fear irrational reprisals from their team leader.


Want to be paid with success.

I have never met a great marketing director who works solely for the money. Great marketers want to succeed and I have seen them get very angry when things unnecessarily get in the way of achievement. Those who hire great marketers are wise to not try to put them in a box of outdated constraints. Sure, a place exists for people who go about doing what always got done. That place, however, is not for great marketers. Great marketers are driven to achieve and they will go where they feel the best opportunity is to do such.


From good to great.

I think we can all learn important things from great marketers. The affectionate relationships they build with customers and the loyalty they inspire from their teams are things that every business needs more of. Through them, I have learned the power of creativity. I have learned the value of solid team members. I have learned that winning is everything when you define winning the right way.

And I've learned that the first step in a great marketer/consumer relationship is not quality or value, but a mutually respectful relationship. Once you truly respect the customers and their needs and their perspective, everything else needed for a great relationship seems to follow.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

All Hail the Fort!

The first fort was a half-fallen-down chicken shack. My childhood buddies and I stumbled upon it while walking through the woods that bordered our neighborhood. By the time my family had moved to the area the official bird of the city had become the Viper Car Alarm, but it hadn't always been that way. Duluth was very rural just previous to the housing explosion that we surfed in on. And it was for this reason that rabid little suburban children, such as us, might happen upon old chicken shacks and turn them into forts.

The first fort was also a death trap. The wood was rotted and plenty of sharp, rusty things jutted out to snag your jeans or neck. From even a casual glance, the limits of the first fort's potential were obvious. Enthusiasm waned.

But then we made a fabulous discovery. The second fort was larger; you could actually stand up in it. It had what appeared to be horse stalls, stairs and a locking door, which is important for securing all the junk artifacts kids find in the country woods. The pickaxe and case of glass jars that we would soon be throwing at trees and each other would be safe from other marauding bands of children.

The second fort was an inspiration. Because it was sturdy, we formulated plans of how to add on. So we added a porch. And a second entrance. And a rooftop shooter's nest where we could shoot BB guns at friends as they approached. We even built a stove that should have convinced our parents that we were all destined to become engineers. That is, if our parents ever found out that we were setting fires in the woods. The stove used an old drum with a fashioned door, an external air input that drew air from outside (instead of pulling through the cracks of the walls), and a insulated metal chimney that exited the exhaust. When you fired it up full blast, it could thaw out Antarctica.

We had old basement furniture from Mike's parents' house but we never really sat on it because you never really sat down. The whole fun of the fort was building. If we didn't know what to build or add on, we built it anyways. And the fort grew into what appeared to be the Swiss Family Robinson's safe house, where they might retreat to if the government ever got on to them for smuggling weapons.

The difference between Fort Version 1.0 and Fort Version 2.1 was that original structure it was built on. Fort 1.0 looked like someone wrecked a burning saloon full of manure into some trees. Fort 2.1 was sturdy and strong, which is important when you are nailing several hundred pounds of "found" construction materials to it.

If some cheesy business executives were wandering through the woods, they might look at the new fort and say we had "really thought outside the box". Then they would be shot with pellet guns and we would smash glass jars in the trees above their heads.

I hate the cliché, "Think outside the box". I think the people who say it don't fully appreciate its meaning and they themselves are thinking inside a box because they have to conform their ideas to lame business clichés. Is not thinking outside the box, thinking beyond constraints like, say, clichés?

I have heard all the fun alternates, like, "Don't box the neck", or, "Don't put your brain in a box". It's fun to play at wit. Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not asking you to fly in the face of this little business pearl. I don't want you to think inside the box, per se. I want you to think inside the fort. Fort 2.1 to be exact.

The reason for 2.1's success was its strong base. We had something with which to start. Sure, the fort took on a much larger life after we nailed tons of particleboard and rusty sheet metal to it. It didn't even look like the same place. Yet all the while, under the surface, sat a strong base built by someone we never met.

Like Fort 2.1, great businesses also have a strong base. They have a root which is securely planted in a particular place. They have an anchor that holds everything else up. And great businesses are always cognizant of their base. Products, services, operations: everything attaches to that secure base.

When was the last time you reevaluated your fort? How strong is it? Can it support the weight of everything you've nailed to it? Is the design consistent and is it functional?

Let's take a look.


Build a shooter's nest first.

It's easy to have your head down over whatever you're nailing only to ignore a pending threat or opportunity. But the front lines of whatever you're building need to be watched. Had we kept our heads up, we might have been able to outrun that sheriff's deputy who came to give us lip over being on someone else's property.

For businesses, it's not always the fuzz (though for an unfortunate few it might be...). Instead, it is a changing market place or a savvy competitor. Sometimes it's even a problem with your own construction that you might never see. Getting a good view of yourself and your surroundings is a continually needed task.

I recommend you have a constant watch of research professionals. Find out what customers are saying. Find out what your biggest critics are saying. Continuously examine the structural integrity of your fort. Nothing is more embarrassing than standing next to a collapse while insisting, "Nothing's wrong".


Build on a hill. If you can't find a hill, build one.

The worst issue I have found in constructing brands and strategies is when companies stand for and own nothing in the minds of consumers. Sometimes I think people get scared when I tell them to take their business, find a hill and take it. It is as if we in business have become scared of our own shadow. Are we so afraid of some competition that we would rather go out of business? Get serious. Get your BB gun out. They want our fort!

Your company must stand for something. Have a set of values, beliefs and objectives as well as a good understanding of your role in the marketplace. This is the box you not only need to think within, you need to use it to nail things to. Once you have this structure, many other decisions become easier to make and many other opportunities become apparent.


How far does the addition extend off the foundation?

In the maturation of every fort and business, there is a desire to see how far you can go. Companies see opportunity and hope that solidly built brand equity can be stretched to support something two or three trees away. This is a really bad idea. Customers have a peculiar way of how they allocate brand affinity. Just because you make a nice truck does not mean they will care about your car. Just because you run a nice casual restaurant does not mean customers will support your upscale or quick service efforts as well. In fact, the further away something is from the base, the harder it is to support.

Business thinkers have known the perils of line extension for years, yet businesses seem doomed to repeat it. The temptation is for businesses to expand their offerings as they grow more successful. The better idea is to continue to focus and take a stronger ownership of a position as credibility and brand affinity grows. To put it simply, dance with the one that brought you or you'll go home with no one.


Today, we think inside a new fort.

Fort 3.0 is by far the best. We have working plumbing and a heater. We have a conference room, production room and an awesome lounge with surround sound. And instead of building makeshift booby traps, we're building brand strategies that we hope will snare up our client's competitors. However, there are some things from Fort 2.1 that remain. We still look for strong, supported beams before we try to nail something to it. We still confer on the overall vision of the fort before we build anything. And we still welcome anyone who is interested in building something strong and lasting.

But you might want to make some noise or call out before you get too close. Otherwise, Richard might shoot you with a pellet gun.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

The Big Five.

I'm back in the saddle again. To those of you who have missed this semi-regular e-mail, I apologize. Things at ST have been busy. We have been venturing into wheat fields and cotton capitals and all the while helping to develop some pretty powerful brands. The last few months have been daunting, to say the least. A big part of my thinking lately has been taken up with the development of a new book that will explore the alignment between consumers, organizations and products. Obviously, that has taken a ton of my time.

And in that time, I've come to realize that you never write the same book that you start out trying to write. For my first book, I started out with grand visions of profundity, only to end up with 140 pages of crude jokes, goofy quips and occasionally something about marketing. My next book will be different. I mean, I hope it will. But don't you worry, all that seriousness is saved for the book. These newsletters will still be as crude as you love...

As I dove through materials on consumer attitudes, marketing strategies and successful implementation, I began to notice something stark. It became clear that the majority of firms successful in marketing a product or service seemed to adhere to a few rudimentary marketing concepts. Conversely, firms that saw their marketing ambitions fail to launch had violated at least one, and more often a few, of these simple marketing maxims.

So what are these concepts? Are they austere puffery about synergistic visioning? Hardly. Are they the ever-broadening decrees that, in fortune cookie fashion, suggest everything while saying nothing? Nope. They are a collection of brilliant, salient inquires collected from clients, fellow consultants, academics, nutcases and the occasional intern.

And now, ladies and gentleman, for your enjoyment (and hopefully the betterment of you marketing), the Big Five:



1) How are we providing value to those who purchase our offering above what is available from competitors?

Put more simply, why do we exist? The President of Saatchi and Saatchi, Kevin Roberts, says consumers are over the "er" descriptors (fresher, crispier, tastier). Roberts says products need a soul or persona over competitive attributes. I call BS. If a product or service does not have an attribute or collection of attributes that legitimizes its existence, maybe it shouldn't exist. And, in time, it probably won't.

This doesn't mean neglect the brand. An entire structure of meaning can be built around competitive attributes. BMW says they build the ultimate driving machines and they do. Their brand is the definition of driving enjoyment. They back up this position with attributes like glued to the road handling and bi-turbocharged engines. Attributes and persona do not function at the exclusion of each other. They are dependent on each other to make and support meaning for the brand. If you don't have an attribute that makes your brand competitive, find one, create one or start over and don't stop until you have one. A brand does not live on image alone.


2) How are we further evolving the offering to match the evolving needs and desires of our customers as tied to our brand?

Many offerings start off responding to a need. Successful offerings seem to find that sweet spot where brand and attribute intersect and a star is born. Then comes Father Time intent on spoiling the party. Over time, attributes may change and be updated. Also, brand messages may get a facelift, or at least a little Botox. The problem, however, is that the two rarely evolve strategically in reference to the consumer.

Here's a decent example. Ford started as the company that made a car accessible to many Americans. They didn't invent the car, and the quality was good but certainly not on the level of earlier, hand built models. When more consumers wanted a truck, Ford put a good truck within reach of millions. Midsized sedan? The Taurus. SUV? The wildly popular Explorer. Yet today, Ford's products and marketing are a mixed bag. Sure, they still make the assorted every-person cars but they also make $65,000 trucks. For every time Ford has done a great job of making desired cars available to the masses, they've screwed it up trying to be the everything car company. And now, manufacturers like Hyundai and Kia are making popular features and designs available to more people and those people are driving past the Ford dealership in a new Sorrento.

Ford could have evolved its product and marketing strategy to something more like IKEA. Smart designs, good quality, no BS rebates or sales tricks. They could have evolved that simple principle of getting good cars within reach of every American. Today Toyota is doing that better than Ford. And if Toyota beats Ford in making a hybrid that is price accessible to the majority of Americans, it just might signal the end of the once great Ford brand.

And if you want to know what a dying brand looks like, check out this link. The devolution of Ford's brand (and brand culture) is truly sad. http://culturegarage.com/2008/01/11/ford-sometimes-i-think-you-want-to-fail/


3) What about us do our customers put up with because no easy alternative exists?

Somewhere, a cable TV executive weeps a little every time a late night talk show host talks about how crappy the cable company is...and is right. You wonder, had they known of the phone and satellite companies' ability to enter the TV market, if they would have thought twice about asking customers to wait between the hours of 10 and 3 on a Tuesday so the cable guy can come figure out why MTV is fuzzy.

Though amusing, plenty of companies do equally stupid things to customers and then are honestly shocked when customers flee in mass exodus to a slightly more sensitive competitor. Too many companies mistake purchase for loyalty, but there is a difference. Purchase may keep you afloat today, but it takes loyalty to weather the storms of the changing market.

I recently tried to track a parcel from our office, but could not find the tracking number. I searched the shipping company's websites and saw plenty of links for logistic solutions, but nowhere did it allow me to see the last few packages I shipped. I called customer service and they plainly told me, "We don't offer that". This company tried to offer me everything under the sun except what I really needed and what I felt was a pretty basic request. Let me tell you, the second their competitor installs that new drop box next to our office, I'm going to see what they'll do to actually earn my business.


4) How easy is it to buy from us?

I know. This sounds stupid. Yet there I was on the phone with a kid selling newspaper space asking him to send me a quote to run in all five of the papers he represents. "Just send me the quote," I said. He didn't care. His prerogative was to send me a rate card, along with an acre of useless promotional junk, like he did, fruitlessly, to everyone else.

My beloved mentor calls it, "The dog finally catching the bus". We are almost so shocked by making a sale that we either can't appreciate it or we don't know what to do, so we fumble. Tell me, why would we ever make it hard to buy whatever it is that we're selling?

Give your sales system an audit. Are your hours, locations, sales rep's schedules all reasonable? How about your quotes, invoices and billing system? Do you make it easy to do business with your company?


5) Do our long-term plans match the needs of our customers and current strategy to address those needs?

I am always amazed at how companies who become successful make such abrupt changes to their strategies and move away from the consumer's affinity. Like bars trying to become white table cloth restaurants or fast food joints trying to sell everything from pizza to Chinese food.

Planning is inevitable in business, but by the very nature of planning a certain amount of suggested input is required. Sadly, much of that input is from a financial perspective rather than a consumer perspective. The result is less effective customer strategies to meet an accounting goal conceived in a vacuum. GM fielded several cars of the same model with different names and even different brands, prompting their lampooning by the press (and most of the car buying public). This was not a marketing decision. It was an accounting decision dressed up as a marketing strategy and, moreover, it was a disastrous failure further watering down this once noble brand.



Give yourself five.

Take a moment and ask yourself and your company these questions. If the answers come easy, good for you. I bet you'll have plenty of success. That is, unless you're lying. For everyone else, this might be a chance to perform a little introspection into how your business operates and the efficacy of its marketing.

Take a moment and write out your company's approach to the Big Five. You should have plenty of juicy morsels about how Tom in accounting keeps derailing your new product rollout to save 50 bucks and how Susie still thinks it's the 1970s when it comes to graphic arts. You might even write enough to write a book. If so, send it to me. I could use the help.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Nature vs. Nurture.

I started playing football in the 5th grade and it changed my life. Before, I had lived in Chesapeake, Virginia where I played soccer for a tough sounding co-ed team called the Rainbows. Once we moved to Georgia, I suited up in pads and sought to clobber anything not running too fast to catch. For me, football had more off-the-field value than on. I liked playing but I liked the attention of being a football player even more. On Friday we would wear our jerseys to school and later than night to the high school game where they let youth league players in for free. The cheerleaders all gushed over wearing a player’s jersey and one couldn’t help but develop a snobbish sense of pride from all the fawning.



Then came my freshman year of high school. Thanks to hormones, both natural and injected, half of my former teammates had gained about 50 pounds the summer before our freshman year. The varsity players looked enormous and it broke my heart to know that the only position a 119-pound kid like me was fit for was guarding the Gatorade. Just like that, my keys to high school stardom no longer fit the door.



But being 119 pounds, scrappy and having a slight like for violence does have one advantage: wrestling. I went out for the wrestling team my freshman year and immediately found that it suited me. I remember it like it was yesterday, my first match ending with me barreling out, pretty much running the other kid over and pinning him in 110 seconds.



Wrestling can be scary. For starters, there’s no team to hide behind. Sure, we keep score and pretend it’s a team sport but when you lose out there in the middle of the mat, you’re the one who lost. In front of everyone and for everyone to see, your successes and failures now available for public scrutiny. I found that out in my second match. I contended in a higher weight class because the other team did not have a 119-pound kid. The other kid completely opened a can off whoop ass on me and then tried to stuff me in it. I felt so bad; I could have crawled in it myself.



Coach said I had ability. I was strong for my size and I could get real mean in a hurry. But mean alone doesn’t win matches. It would take technique, courage and tenacity to train like never before to make me a good wrestler. So, after the three hour practices each day, I ran five miles. I took lessons from a former Olympic wrestler and lifted weights at 5 a.m. every morning.

Eventually, I turned out to be a decent wrestler and better yet I learned about myself, getting a grasp on what I wanted and how I needed to get there. Innate ability might have got me to the mat but the training kept from repeatedly being pinned to it.



Today, I’m wrestling with something else. My client has innate ability. Perhaps innate is not the best term. The type of ability I am talking about is one that which is seemingly underlying but has benefited the company in a mode of marketing. Months ago we reviewed the client’s case and found a particular ability that syncs up with the desire of consumer. My team and I busily got down to finding sales and communication channels to shout this ability from the rooftops in hopes of bringing our client success. And then it hit me like a belly to back with a double chicken wing and a figure four: Innate ability is not enough.



My client has a marketable trait but it is faint and only partially believable. They have yet to do the real heavy lifting to develop the trait and it leaves me with little to help them pitch with. This is a common problem. Marketers often have innate or partially developed selling propositions and rather than develop the natural tendency into a skill, they opt to running out on the mat and getting their butt whopped. It is the business equivalent of telling the coach to put you on the varsity team now because with some training and hard work, you might become good someday.



I believe marketing has two main entities and conditions that bond or impede their connection. On one side is the customer. On the other is the offering. The customer has wants, needs and influences. The offering has propositions, channels and all the things that make up the brand. In between the two are all the communication strategies, channel efforts and pitches. An innate but undeveloped offering is like a thin strand connecting the two. There is a connection to be sure, but it wavers in the breezes of disbelief and is easily disjointed if a serious disturbance rolls by.



Marketers are wise to study the connection with consumers of their products and services. With a few questions, one can begin to see if the offering aligns with consumer desire. Here are a few suggestions:



Why should your target prospect care or want what you are offering?



Sure, you say it’s high quality and dependable, but who’s listening? After every sales claim you should ask yourself, “Why does the customer care?”



Is this reasoning believable, reasonable and/or compelling?



I have heard some amazing concoctions of consumer viewpoint in my experience, particularly with marketing to young people. If you want consumer perspectives about a product, ask them. Moreover, listen to what they have to say lest you fall into a trap similar to the marketers of Guns & Roses trading cards.



Why is your proposition better than the nearest competitor?



The competition is a reality. You might not be starring them in the face day-to-day but they still sit next to you on the shelf, web and in the customer’s mind. You better have a real differentiating proposition if you want to compete.



Is this reasoning believable, reasonable and/or compelling?




Again, do a reality check with your sales claims. Is it really stronger, better built, providing more value? I have a former client who rolled out a huge campaign based on the claims that were actually twice the price of the competition. In short, tell the truth.



What are you doing right now to reinforce your pitch to consumers?



Once you have a distilled concept, don’t rest on your laurels. Say you’re a brand of Louisiana fish fry whose pitch is the authentic experience. Don’t stop at just saying you’re the authentic experience. Put beads on your shipper displays. Offer authentic accessories for a real Louisiana fish fry. Don’t just say it. Do it and be it.



Make it your nature to nurture.



Innate ability is important and I don’t want to play that down. But innate ability is not enough. Marketers should take the efforts that are driving loyalty, action or purchase and augment those efforts. Rather than diffusing competitiveness, the differentiating factors of a product or service should be focused into lean, mean and powerful strategies.



Take a big white board. On one side, write your offering. On the other, write your best description of the prospective customer. Start connecting the two with propositions and pitches. Then ask the above questions in earnest. Answer them honestly and with the least amount of confused jargon. After this exercise, you may not fully pin the strategy but at least you’ll have it in a half nelson.



It’s just like wresting. Train and you’ll wipe the mat with that punk in the blue spandex. But lose your focus and you’ll lose big.

And everyone will see it.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Divide and conquer

John had a huge mouth that wrote checks his butt couldn’t cash. It was a quality that made our little clique love him and hate him concurrently. An excellent storyteller, John often used his wit to insult the kids a grade ahead of us. Such was the occasion when he gathered a few pages from a filthy magazine and penned a note in the margins about a classmate’s mother. To put it lightly, it was on.


We already had a strained relationship with this classmate. He once played bass in our garage band but we had to kick him out because of his doofus friends that would always show up sidecar at our practice wanting to join the band. John’s little “art project” was insult to injury and the impetus for the entire sophomore class rallying to teach us freshmen a lesson.


This would be the first fight of the year so word spread throughout the school like mono. John was my friend so I pledged to back him up. I have to admit, I was kind of looking forward to punching our old bassist in the neck. Just as well, he had earned it.


When the appointed hour arrived, a friend of mine from one town over (outside muscle, yeah, that’s how I roll) and I jumped in the most conspicuous car ever conceived: a yellow, railroad servicing truck with a utility bed. Did I mention it was yellow? We drove the few miles to Shorty Howell Park and ascended the hill getting ready to rumble. Shorty Howell is a few baseball and football fields with parking lots and a road encircling it. When we drove in, the entire sophomore class lined the street. Perhaps the stress has fogged my memory, but when I recall the moment, I remember the sophomores wielding tire irons, maltave cocktails and pineapple grenades. Regardless, they might as well have had baseball bats wrapped in rusty barbed wire because just as our giant yellow target entered the prescribed parking lot, I realized we were the only ones there. More specific, my friend wasn’t even really involved so really, I was the only one there.


We bolted as fast as such a practical and utilitarian vehicle could go. The sophomores tailed us, not like it was hard, but amazingly we lost them long enough to make a phone call. I called John asking why he wasn’t there to join me in martyrdom. “My Mom wants me to do some laundry” he replied. He could have said anything. Something like “my Mom wants me to negotiate commodity prices for a consortium of South American businesses”. It didn’t matter. What John was really saying was he wasn’t coming.


The small group of sophomore’s that were out for blood had managed to pull off one of the most perfect effects in war, politics and marketing. First, they divided. Then, they conquered. To begin, they let John know that he was the only freshman they were interested to pounding. That was enough to scare John off. Second they knew that the rest of us would not fight for John if he did not have the spine to show up. Third, they rallied a larger force, mostly just spectators, but the effect seemed like a mob waiting to tie our lifeless bodies to the goal posts.


One need not be a war scholar to recognize this effect in historic battles. Commanders routinely try to separate efforts from supply lines, divide armies and concentrate the most amount of force at the moment of decision. This is war 101 and we should glean some lessons from it.


Yet many marketers seem to fall in their latrines when it comes to battlefield strategy. Instead of focusing their forces, they spread out and try to take the hill with a line six miles long and one soldier deep. They get half way to an objective and redirect the force to a distant objective that, in the fog of war, looks more desirable. They win the wrong battle where the opposition doesn’t even show up and ultimately, they lose the war.


These principles are basic and applicable to most marketing efforts. I have a few tips to share- So lace up your boots, blow your nose and dress the line- It’s time for boot camp.


Know where to divide and who to conquer.


Proctor and Gamble are the kings of divide and conquer. They take a category (say, laundry detergent) and they split it into a million pieces and position their product at the peaks of every sub category. One brand for freshness. One for color. One for whiter whites and so on. The strategy is brilliant. They never give up a piece of the field and when a piece of vulnerable ground is spotted, they are the first to stake it.


Take a look at your category or categories. Can they be split? If you can’t rule the whole category can you rule a piece of it. We once advised a maker of anti- diarrhea products to eschew the broad category dominated by goliaths and instead focus specifically on the travelers diarrhea (what happens when you drink the water) market. The strategy begs a question that’s easy to answer. Why serve in plain diarrhea when you can rule in traveler’s diarrhea?



Rally the masses.



The sophomore didn’t want to kill us because of John’s x-rated collage. Instead, the pocket of incensed sophomores appealed to their classmates with a more attractive call to arms. Here was a group of sassy, punk freshmen that need to be taught a lesson. They insulted an upperclassman (more specifically, his Mom) and they need to pay. What sophomore could resist such a rallying cry?



Brand managers should never expect their motive to motivate the masses. Nobody bought an iPod to increase the share price of Apple. The iPod meant the liberation of music that can come from anywhere and go anywhere. The iPod has led the digital music revolution and while I would like to think that Apple’s motives are purely benevolent, truthfully my black, 80 GB model is an expensive piece of technology that makes the folks at Apple a lot of bucks. Yet Apple has begun to stand for so much more. The iPod thumbs its nose at corporate music and decrees that the user is king of what he or she listens to. And again, what sophomore could resist such a rallying cry?



Focus on the point of decision.


Getting John to chicken out was key to squashing our interclass strife. The sophomores, despite their ugly looks, were not dummies. They focused their strength at the point of decision and used their mass to display strength that made us cower.


Every purchase decision has a point of decision. When people eat, decide to buy a motor home or choose a urologist all have points of decision and are wise to think deeply about those points. It might be to apply recentcy to a TV schedule or getting the right referral materials in the hands of the people your prospect sees right before you. Recognize and concentrate on that point and you can turn back a brood of sassy freshman a thousand strong.


Hey, you’re kicked out of the band!


I have let the story meander in a way that might let you think the sophomores took the day. That’s not entirely accurate. When I realized that John left us to the mercy of 15-year-old punks, I called my brother- a giant, unpredictable senior. As the core of the sophomores trolled the town, trying to track down the yellow big bird mobile, they stopped at a gas station. We spotted them getting back into a sea foam green convertible (really, sea foam green). My brother pulled up and blocked in their car. He grabbed the driver and pulled him up and out of the car. I will paraphrase and censor but the substance of my brother’s oratory was to the effect of “My brother didn’t start this fight so if you don’t leave him alone- I’ll be using your empty skull for an ashtray”.



I guess, in all that excitement, they never thought I might know how to divide and conquer as well.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Heal Thyself

I am the child of a teacher, and that has a lot of influence on how one grows up. For my mom, everything is a lesson. As my peers were eating mud pies and burning ants with a magnifying glass, I was learning how and why vegetables grow in garden and the secret lives of all the creatures that inhabited it. When you have a parent who is a teacher nothing is sacred. My toy soldiers, a staple of male youth since the iron or at least the plastic age, fell victims line after line to my mother, who made them little parachutes out of napkins and sewing string to illustrate how air resistance allowed them to float effortlessly down from the window above the garage to the landing zone in the driveway.



So it is without surprise that every summer came with a major lesson and objective. One summer was spent in summer school in order to skip a level of math the following year. One summer was spent caring for my baby brother while mom taught summer school. And one summer, early in high school, my mom offered that I learn scuba or lifeguarding at the local YMCA. A two week stint at the local fast food joint was all it took to convince that I needed a better job, perhaps one that involved less grease.



I was a decent wrestler in high school and was hardly concerned with the physical requirements of the class. Our first night we huddled next to the pool as we received the instructions for our workout. Five hundred yards, divided between the front crawl with head out of the water, a modified backstroke and the side stroke. My classmate dove right in and it was about then I realized I could not swim. That’s not accurate. I could swim but not like these kids. Most of them were from the class instructor’s swim team. They flew through the water with ease. I thrashed like bulldog pulling a small raft full of cats. Having ear infections, tubes and a botched surgical procedure from a dentist posing as an ear surgeon (yes, I’m serious) when I was young, I spent most of my childhood on the side of the pool while my brothers swam. The lack of pool time kept me from learning a decent swimming stroke. It was not pretty. But I was not deterred. Some coaching from mom and a lot of hard work and I taught myself to swim. And I must have been a good instructor, because I eventually rose to teach swimming and then lifeguarding for the YMCA.



The situation in which I learned to swim still makes me laugh. I remember teaching advanced swimming at Simpsonwood United Methodist Retreat outside Atlanta and telling my students stroke correction, only to be reminding myself the same corrections in my own laps. I did not have the benefit of a long youth of swimming and therefore much of what I preached, I was still very cognizant to practice.



My professional practice has been little different, as I often find the things I become most interested in regarding marketing and communications were absconded from efforts by many of those with or for whom I have worked. My only solace was to retreat to the study of the hordes of scholars, practitioners and consultants who screamed at the top of their lungs for the need for strategy. People like Jack Trout, Al Ries and John Steele, and Publications like Harvard Business review. All warn of the perfect storm that will arise when burgeoning consumer choices, a marketing industry more concerned with the myriad of tactics rather than core strategies and the thunderbolts of change striking the media landscape will all collide in a spectacular implosion.



The thing about teaching yourself something is that you have got to know what you don’t know, you know? You need to recognize where there may be more information or knowledge or experience. Unless you can appreciate that the answer may lie elsewhere, you will never go look for it and assume that what is at hand is all that exists and is therefore right. I hate the idea of stagnation in business, but I also appreciate the comfort that might come with predictability. Some people are doing the same things they’ve always done - like a particular ad placement, trade show or format for presentation simply because they’re comfortable with it and it doesn’t seem broke. Some people would call this not fixing what’s not broke. I have a slightly different view articulated by my friend Charlie. It doesn’t matter if you are on the right track if you’re not moving. You’ll still get run over by the train.



This newsletter is not as much me trying to teach you something as it is me trying to illustrate to you that my partner and I are teaching ourselves something. We’re diagnosing our own problems. We’re correcting our own backstroke. We are, in the very essence, trying to heal ourselves.



Years ago, when we founded this firm, it was in response to what agencies were not providing. As many firms chased down new tactics to fill billing gaps in a client’s budget, they left a gaping hole in the place where strategic counsel was supposed to be. Firms are more concerned on being able to absorb billings for direct marketing, interactive, advertising, public relations and event planning all on the same bill that they have ignored to core problem of constructing a central and powerful core strategic plan. They have, in a sense, become a collection of tactics with no strategy. Like an arsenal of weaponry with no idea where to march, shoot, take cover or take over. As they reach to offer more varied service, the hole deepens and brands are taking the brunt of it.



We intend to fill that hole.



I lecture my clients on doing what they do best and communicating such in a thoughtful way. I teach my clients to marry the consumer need with the offering in a way that consumer’s can spot the connection. I tell my clients to focus. And now Richard and I are telling ourselves the very same.



Welcome to a new concentration of problem solving, ideas and actual solutions. Welcome to a new firm that will focus on solving the strategy problem before all else. Welcome to a new Snowden Tatarski.



For some this won’t seem like much of a change. We’ve always talked about the need for a strategy above all else. For others it will seem abrupt, as they have used our service to carry out the various tactics without having a unified core competitive plan. For us it is and will be a series of ideas, ideals, beliefs and guiding principles. Because this is an organic change, I hope you will forgive any rough edges as we make this transition more succinct and harmonious. The following are some concepts which are at the forefront of our minds as we make this important transition.



We are not an advertising agency. We do not and will not constrain ourselves to the tactic of advertising, nor do we retail media in an agency format. We are a marketing consultancy, and while we will create advertising and advise on media planning as it pertains to strategic marketing, we will not put the fresh wine of a new approach in the old skins of a less relevant and outdated format.


We believe strategy is central to whether an effort is successful or not. Tactics are not strategy and campaigns which are not united in voice, message and selling proposition are not functioning at an optimum. If you cannot clearly articulate your overarching brand strategy in less than 30 seconds, you do not have one.


We are located in a seat of knowledge. Ad agencies are in Atlanta where they can be near competitors and a fabulous new martini bar. We are in Athens next to one of the nation’s most respected and prolific academic institutions with which we have a strong partnership. We are a company which provides the thoughtful resolution of marketing dilemmas; therefore we consider the vast resource of the University of Georgia and its world-renowned faculty to be an asset few can match.

We are a small company. Ad agencies have teams of people who hurriedly run about carrying faxes and video tapes and lattes and they can show what each of these people are doing right on your bill. It does not take a keystone army to solve a marketing problem. We maintain a core group of consultants in residence and in affiliation, including a consultant with 25 years in travel and hospitality, one with 30 in packaged goods, one with 15 years in technology and manufacturing, one with 25 years in food services and one with 35 years and several degrees in marketing research. We also maintain close relationships with filmmakers, music producers, interior designers, event planners and all the other tactical people who can make a good strategy a great result.




I hope you will take a second to view our website at www.sn-ta.com. On it you will find information about our new focus and existing qualifications, many case studies about strategies we created that drive businesses and information on how you can contact us to chat. I am sorry that this newsletter may come off as more of a solicitation than the typically weekly fodder; however, those of you who reply every week with insights and suggestions have become a sort of peer review and I relish the learning I get from so many of you.



And that makes this newsletter and this new focus of our firm important. The learning we get and give to each other increases our collective abilities and therefore propensity for individual and mutual success. The more we teach each other, the more we teach ourselves.