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It’s not plain or simple. And that’s what makes it interesting.
Do you believe opinion polls? I don’t.
Although my faith in them has been a little restored after the uncannily accurate exit polls in this month’s UK election, I’m basically sceptical.
Not because I don’t trust the pollsters. But because I don’t trust the pollees. And I don’t trust them because I was once one of them.
“Is that Kevin Walsh?” trilled the woman as soon as I picked up the phone.
I confirmed it was. And would I mind, she wondered, taking part in an opinion poll on politics?
“Not at all,” I… almost said.
And she was off.
I’d never before heard anybody talk so fast, ask so many questions in such a short space of time, or sound so robotic. And I never have since.
Did I vote in the last election? If so, for which party? Was I intending to vote for them in the next election? Was I wavering? Which of the following statements best describes me? (List of statements.) On a scale of 1 to 5, how would I rate…
On and on it went.
I answered as best I could, but sometimes, rather than think about it, I just plumped for an answer to move on. Some opinions I didn’t feel comfortable sharing with a complete stranger. Some questions, I’d never thought about. And in the end, I said anything to get her off the phone.
“Thankyouforyourassistance!” she gushed.
And with that, she was gone.
I’d started with the best of intentions. But in the end, addled and slightly irritated, I simply said anything to bring the call to a swift end.
And assuming everybody else she called was as surprised as I was and answered in the same way, the results of her survey couldn’t have been very accurate.
So much for science.
Who’s fooling whom?
Often, people really and honestly think they’re telling the truth.
But they’re not. It’s not that they’re dim or devious or deluded. They simply don’t realise that their perception is wrong.
A few weeks ago, The Economist had a special report on television. And one of the articles talked about how people really watch television – as opposed to how they think they do.
Now I’m not typical (yes, I know you knew that). I hardly ever watch live TV. I tape everything, bar the news and the weather, and watch it at my leisure. So I can stop for tea breaks and pee breaks, and skip those pesky ad breaks.
And lots of people think they do that. But in reality, they don’t. They say they do, but the truth is somewhat different.
In one case, a respondent said he watched recorded television 90% of the time. But actually, he watched live TV 67% of the time.
When the researcher dug deeper, it emerged that the man had described how he watched TV when he was alone.
But most of the time, he watched it with other people.
And nothing but…
So when you’re looking for the truth among your customers, prospects colleagues or friends, stop and think first. And remember some simple… truths:
- Cross-check. No self-respecting journalist writes a story without verifying information from a single source. Confirm your initial findings, and be sure you’re happy they’re accurate.
- Take things with a pinch of salt. Nobody admits they’re going to vote BNP, or that they adore adverts. Nobody buys Barry Manilow’s music or porn magazines. But they do. They do, and they might not want to tell you.
- Don’t ignore the obvious. Often, things are precisely what they seem. There’s no hidden agenda or deep dark secret. The obvious is obvious for a reason.
- Don’t jump to conclusions. Unrelated events often misleadingly appear as cause and effect. Your price increase might not have deterred people from buying. And conversely, your new ad campaign might not have caused that sales spike.
- Don’t prompt (too much). A very wise woman once said to me “You get the answers to the questions you ask”. So frame those questions carefully, and don’t lead the witness. Approach your research with an open mind, and remember that you might not like the answers you get. But at least then you’ll know.
- Remember, they’re human too. People prevaricate, dither and change their minds – just like you do. So allow for that.
- There is no one truth. There are lots. Nobody likes to hear that there’s not one copper-bottomed, sure-fire, cover-all ‘right’ answer (ask me, I know). There is no absolute truth, when it comes to sales and marketing. So go for the 80% right answer, because you’ll never reach 100%.
- They are not a blob. Remember when Margaret Thatcher said there was no such thing as society? She drew a hail of fire from all quarters for such heresy. But really, she meant that society is made up of individuals. Just like your customer base and prospect list.
And that’s the plain and simple truth.
Honest.
Find out more:
Authenticity and the art of looking the part
“The really depressing bit for me,” said my friend, “was to hear the word authenticity used as a marketing term. Something is either authentic or it isn’t.”
He wasn’t talking about mobile phones or cars, life coaches or insurance salesmen. No, it was worse – much worse.
Politicians.
We’d both heard the same edition of Analysis on BBC Radio 4, which talked about pitching for the female vote in the upcoming general election. Its title, Babies and Biscuits, was inspired by David Cameron’s appearance on Mumsnet, a million-strong online network of mothers.
Mothers with votes.
Questions ranged from childcare vouchers to ID cards, with brief detours via nappies (aka diapers) and his favourite biscuit (he had an answer he prepared earlier – unlike Gordon Brown in the Biscuitgate scandal).
Perception is reality
Authenticity is on everybody’s lips these days. Everybody wants to be real, honest, and open – or at least, to appear so.
So we’re all doing the open-kimono thing, trying to show the real us, trying to connect with prospects.
My gym certainly is. LA Fitness have mugshots of real staff members plastered all over the gym, the web and in magazine advertising. Real people, warts and all.
Estate agent Carter Jonas has taken the same approach, relaunching its brand so the focus is not property, but…you got it, people.
So Sinéad likes Latin American dancing and Marie is a champion golfer. Geoff sails dinghies and Kevin enjoys cooking (he’s welcome to it).
Does this all feel authentic to you?
No, me neither. You get the feeling they’re trying too hard to be something they’re not. And by shoehorning them into roles they – and we – feel uncomfortable with, nobody’s being done any favours.
Easy does it
The thing about being honest and open is that it’s a hard sell. Tell somebody you’re honest, and their instinct is to doubt you. Why is he telling me this?
It’s a bit like telling somebody you’re talented. Isn’t that something they should be able to work out for themselves?
Going back to basics is another option. I’ve lost count of the number of times people have said to me I want to be more like Innocent.
Innocent Drinks, that is. With the cute cartoons and the cutesy taglines. It works very well – for them.
But here’s the thing. It isn’t the result of some focus group or creative brainstorm. It’s not designed to deceive or deflect. It’s a simple idea, with a simple execution.
And I do think it’s authentic. In fact, unless I was being spun to, I know it is.
Years ago, I bumped into one of the Innocents at a networking event in London. An ex-teacher, he’d abandoned the classroom and thrown himself into smoothies instead (metaphorically speaking, you understand).
And when it came to copy, he decided to give it a go himself. He’d keep it simple, straightforward and… innocent.
And it worked.
But that bandwagon has passed, and it’s too late to jump on. So don’t. Instead, create your own, start a trend and set yourself apart.
Be authentic, but do it your way.
And remember that being is one thing – doing is another. You’ve got to deliver, otherwise you’re just a likeable incompetent.
As Seth says:
… ‘being’ is too amorphous and we are notoriously bad at judging that. Internal vision is always blurry. Doing, on the other hand, is an act that can be seen by all.
Can I quote him on that? Oh yes, I just did.
And finally
So was Cameron being authentic, or just playing the game in a cynical attempt to garner votes?
Well, June 3rd is the last date on which an election can take place. So on the morning of the 4th, we’ll see how the cookie crumbles.
Or the biscuit. (Mine’s a ginger nut, by the way.)
Find out more:
Easy is the new hard. No, really.
So there you have it.
The all-singing, all-dancing, everything’s-connected National Health Service IT system is to be ‘dramatically scaled back’ (i.e. quietly scrapped).
Mind you, I could have told you that. For two reasons.
First, I got a bad feeling about three years ago, when I did some copywriting on the subject. The background reading (all 500 pages of PDFs) was grimly compelling.
A bit like watching a road accident that’s about to happen but not being able to do anything about it.
Front-line staff weren’t behind it. It was ambitious, fiendishly complicated and promised the earth.
Mind you, it also cost the earth. Back then, my bedtime reading suggested anything between £6bn (€6.6bn/$9.8bn) and £30bn (€33bn/$48.9bn).
To date, it’s come in at £12bn (€13.2bn/$19.6bn).
My second inkling came when my doctor tried to use the system. She didn’t want to do anything complicated – just to book an appointment.
But it was complicated, as I’ve written about previously (High tech or hype tech?). And in the end, I bypassed the system and used the telephone to make the hospital appointment myself.
Not good.
Easy peasy lemon ketchup
The trouble with big projects is that they’re big. No one person can get their head around all the individual pieces, so they project is compartmentalised. And that means it very quickly becomes fragmented, complicated and disconnected.
A couple of years ago, I boarded a train at London’s King’s Cross station in the rush hour. I took an outside seat in a group of four. In the two seats opposite were a hassled-looking middle manager and her shiny-suited sidekick.
As the train pulled out, she flipped open her folder and peered at a spreadsheet printout.
“You know that consultant, the one with the gold-rimmed glasses, in Peter’s section – you know, whatshisname?” she said hopefully.
“Oh Graham, you mean,” he said. “What about him?”
“Well,” she said, “he’s paid £900 a day and he’s been with us six months. Do we know exactly what he does?”
I did a quick mental calculation, and came up with a figure of close on £100,000 (€110,000/$163,000).
“Hmm, ” said the shiny suit. “Not really. I mean, not exactly. Erm, no.”
“We should find out,” she said, lazily snapping the folder shut, “one of these days.”
Or tomorrow, I thought. Or right now. Because that’s my tax money (yes, they were civil servants – couldn’t you tell?).
Easy does it
Difficult is easy: you do one thing, then another thing, and yet another. Each without reference to what came before. You add a bit here, and there. You spread responsibility among different groups, and patch holes as they appear.
Issues are dealt with as they come in, not according to how important they are. And before you know it, you don’t know where you are. And neither does anybody else. And the result is organised, project-managed chaos. At £900 a day.
So what’s the answer? If difficult is easy, what’s easy – difficult?
Actually no. It’s easy – when you know how.
Here are my top tips for keeping it simple, staying on top of things, and never losing sight of what’s important.
And for leaving the office early (that’s the clincher, isn’t it?):
- Keep a log of your day: and see how you really use your time. Important things should take priority, with urgent ones trumping them only if they’re also important.
- Review your tasks, and update and re-prioritise each one every day. Or better still, at the beginning and end of every day.
- Take stock: check where you are with a project regularly, and make course adjustments if you’re off-track.
- Be realistic & honest: if you know you can’t achieve it, don’t say you can. If it’s too big to tackle, break it down into smaller, manageable chunks.
- Peel off. Adding another layer to an already-complicated process just makes it more complicated. Instead, strip away the unnecessary layers and get back to basics.
- Communicate. Tell people what you’re doing. Ask them what they’re doing. And if you’re the only one doing anything (like me) sit down and have a serious talk with yourself now and then.
- De-junk. Recently, I threw out old clothes, LPs, clever-but-useless kitchen gizmos and anything I hadn’t used in a year. It felt so good (better than skinny, to paraphrase Kate Moss). Take the same ruthless approach to your work and you’ll feel supermodel-light in less than no time. Need it? No? Junk it. Move on.
Now wasn’t that easy?
It’s not about you – it’s about them. Don’t ever forget it.
A few months back, a pop-up popped up in Skype.
Would you like to win £1,000? it trilled. Of course I would. I was excited at the prospect – positively thrilled, in fact.
All I had to do, it explained, was complete an online survey that would help them improve the program. It would only take a few minutes.
I jumped at the chance.
Several long minutes later, I was losing heart. The questions were endless, and all began to resemble each other. I was answering on autopilot, ticking yes and no randomly, awarding 5 out of 10, or neutral when it came to agreeing or disagreeing – anything, as long as I could just get to the end of this damn thing.
You’re almost there! it gushed. Except I wasn’t. Another screenful of questions taunted me. That thousand quid was disappearing faster than a carrot on telescopic stick.
And finally, I snapped.
In a fit of pique, I closed the browser, brought my clenched fist down on my desk (ouch – don’t try this at home) and had a double espresso to calm down (ditto).
So what went wrong? Simple: Skype needed some info, so they found a cheap way to do it. They dangled the lure of £1,000 in front of me, and like a goggle-eyed fish, I bit.
But here’s where they went wrong: they thought it was about them.
It wasn’t. It was about me.
After a few dozen questions, I didn’t care about the money anymore. Easy money should be…well, easy. And it wasn’t.
It wasn’t even money – it was the chance to be entered into a draw. To win money. And even then, probably not money but Skype credit (no doubt to be used by a certain date).
Net result?
- I didn’t win £1,000.
- I didn’t even get a chance to win £1,000.
- I wasted my time.
- I felt more negative about Skype than before.
- I resolved never to complete another survey.
- (and worst of all) I felt used.
Not good.
Through the looking-glass
If you want to understand your customers, think like a customer. If you want to understand a reader, think like a reader.
Let’s take websites. Most have an About page. So what’s it about?
Wrong. It’s not about you (haven’t you been listening?).
It’s about them. Even when it’s about you. Everything you say – even when you’re talking about your company, your history, your people, your offices, your reputation, your fabulous dress sense and good looks – it’s about them.
| What you say |
What you really mean |
| We’ve been in business 20 years. |
Relax. We know what we’re doing. |
| We have dedicated account managers. |
You don’t need to repeat yourself to some witless moron every time you phone us. |
| We have a one-stop service. |
You keep your costs down, you have less hassle, you can leave all the hair-pulling, desk-banging (ouch) details to us. |
| We pride ourselves on professionalism, service and [blah, blah, blah]. |
Yes – you did make the right choice. Now go to bed and stop worrying. |
I Customer
Never write a word without thinking how it’ll be read. Never launch a marketing campaign without thinking how it’ll be received. And never call an offer special unless it’s just that – special.
With a bit of practice, it becomes second nature.
Some people, however, need more practice than others. Remember my Top 10? It included 3, the UK mobile phone operator. When I switched to them, they gave me £10 ($16, €11.50) free credit to be used within 30 days, just to thank me.
Wasn’t that nice?
Not really. You see, when I logged on on 3′s site, I saw that the credit had been ‘queued’. A little footnote told me that the credit would be used up in the order in which it was displayed.
And it was displayed in the last row of the table.
In other words, my free credit would be used only when my paid-for credit was gone. And if that didn’t happen in 30 days, the freebie would disappear.
Free? Schmee.
Don’t think like a marketer. Think like like a marketee. Don’t think like a writer. Think like a writee.
Aka reader.
Happy writing.
For country, read company
Let’s pick a country at random.
How about Brazil? (Top row, second from the left.)
What images come to mind? Sugarloaf Mountain? The long sandy beach of Copacabana? Ronnie Biggs?
It it stable? Safe? Corrupt? Would you consider living there? Retiring there?
And where did you get that impression from?
If it’s blues day, it must be Belgium
I’ve just been reading an interesting report from Interbrand on country branding.
Yes, it really does exist – and countries spend huge amounts of money trying to control and manage their brand.
The Anholt-GfK Roper Nation Brands Index rates 50 countries based on various criteria (exports, governance, culture & heritage, people, tourism, investment & immigration).
And the winner is…
Germany (yes, I was surprised too).
The questions they asked included:
“If money were no object, would you like to visit this country on vacation?”
And a little more chillingly:
“If you were going to be falsely arrested for a crime you didn’t commit, in which country would you prefer this to happen?”
Hmm. I’ll have to think about that one.
We know what you’re thinking
Countries go to enormous effort to change the way we perceive them. And a big part of that effort is coming up with a tagline.
Some are obvious (Andorra – the Pyrenean country). Others are a little optimistic (Iran – the land of flowers and birds). Others are baffling (Philippines – more than the usual).
Some use humour. Remember Australia’s Where the bloody hell are you? campaign from a few years back?
And just occasionally, they say something they don’t really mean (Visit Berlin once).
But all are trying to achieve the same aim: managing their country’s brand by creating an image that attracts you.
To brand or not to brand
Interviewed by Sandi Toksvig a couple of years ago on BBC Radio 4′s Excess Baggage programme, Simon Anholt (of the Anholt-GfK Roper Nation Brands Index) made a fascinating point – because it applies to companies as well as countries.
He said that the alternative to branding your country is not not branding your country.
It’s letting someone else do it for you.
He also says that at some level, “every country has the reputation it deserves.” Again, something that could be said of every company.
Which is why it’s worth controlling your brand. And sometimes, that means taking the long view. Very long indeed.
Anholt said he was talking to a member of the Swedish royal family once, who asked how long it would take to change the image of the country – if they felt it was necessary.
“About 20 or 30 years,” Anholt replied.
“Oh, that quick?” she said nonchalantly.
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