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.
If not, change what you sell – or how you sell it.
My day started so well.
The summer sun poured through my office windows, and a steaming cup of coffee stood on my desk, its rich aroma teasing my tastebuds with anticipation.
Then the call came. A withheld number, which is never a good sign.
“Hello, Kevin,” said an unfamiliar voice. “Isn’t it a wonderful day?”
“Uh, yes,” I mumbled. “But more to the point, who the bloody hell are you?”
Actually, I didn’t.
Instead, I let him cast his line, safe in the knowledge that I wasn’t going to be hooked. As soon as he said the word ‘cricket’, I knew I was right.
You see, you’re either a cricket fan or you’re not. And I’m not.
Doug was from a corporate sports marketing company. And guess what? A box at Lord’s (The Home of Cricket – isn’t that a great tagline?) had just come free. Just think of the corporate entertaining I could do!
Except I couldn’t. And wouldn’t. And I told him so.
“Ah,” he said irrepressibly, “so not a cricket fan. What about football?”
No.
“Tennis?”
No.
“Rugby?”
No.
“Horse racing?”
No.
“Dogs?”
No. No. No.
Game over. Insert new coin.
Sometimes, you just have to face it: they’re not buying what you’re selling. And you can do one of two things.
You can either keep on trying, which means you’ll waste your time (and lose lots of other sales to more likely customers).
Or you can change what you’re selling. A bit like Virgin Mobile didn’t do when I spoke to them about their mobile-phone contracts.
“You don’t send texts?” said the incredulous customer sales person.
Yes, that’s right. Calls, yes. Texts, no. So could they give me more calling minutes in lieu of the hundreds of texts I’d never send? Couldn’t they make an exception?
“Um, I don’t think so,” she said, fishing around for a killer argument.
And then she found one.
“You see, if we made an exception for you, we’d have to make an exception for everybody, and give them what they wanted.”
Mentally, I moved my chess piece. Checkmate.
But I savoured my little moment, and let the silence drag on, until she could bear it no longer.
“You see my point, don’t you?” she pleaded.
I didn’t.
And the very next day, I changed my mobile operator – to one that let me take any mix I wanted of minutes and texts.
Lights, camera, action
Most companies think they know what their customers want. And they keep on hitting those little square pegs harder and harder, in the hope that they’ll one day go in.
Clever companies think like customers. And when people aren’t buying, they change what they’re selling, or how they sell it, until customers do buy.
Just like lovefilm.com did.
When I first checked, this DVD-rental website was just too expensive. I like films, but not enough to pay £15 a month (that’s $22.50 or €17.50).
So I didn’t bite.
But wait, it told me – I could have four discs at a time, and an unlimited number of films per month.
I still didn’t bite.
Then my local DVD store closed down, so I checked again.
Same deal. Same reaction.
And then last week, fearing becoming a social outcast (I hadn’t seen Slumdog Millionaire) I checked again.
And there, I saw a new package, aimed at ‘lite’ users, priced at just £4 ($6, €4.60) a month.
I bit.
So you see? If people aren’t buying, it’s because you’re not selling what they want. It’s not that they don’t like you. It’s not that your product doesn’t work or your service doesn’t deliver.
It’s simply that something, somewhere in the mix is wrong.
Get it right, and they’ll bite.
Find out more:
What do you mean you haven’t seen Slumdog Millionaire? Quick, hurry over to lovefilm.com.
Leg before wicket? It’s simply not cricket. Check out Lord’s Cricket Ground (tell Doug I sent you).
I heard from my friend Dave last week. You know Dave, don’t you? Well you do if you live in the UK.
David Cameron – he of the silky voice, easy manner and impeccable credentials. The leader of the Conservative Party.
Dave to his friends. And I’m his friend – along with millions of others.
Let me explain.
Vote early and often
Here in the UK, it’s a week of elections. In England, local councillors are up for election to decide how they can spend more of my money on painting pointless lines and implementing ‘traffic calming’ measures.
And across the country – in fact, across the continent of Europe – it’s time to elect members of the European Parliament, that vast travelling circus that divides its time between Brussels and Strasbourg.
So needless to say, all the political parties are looking for support. But some are looking in the wrong places.
The Labour Party pushed a leaflet through my letter box. The Liberal Democrats did the same.
And so did the British National Party – in fact, their leaflet doubled up as a handy window poster (no thanks – I’d rather avoid the flying bricks and dark looks).
Tell me a (s)tory
But Dave took a different approach. He decided to do a mailshot.
Now the trouble with all mailshots is that they’re only as good as the database list you’ve got.
And database lists, as you probably know, have a very short shelf life. Which is why most mailshots have a less than stellar return.
But in this case, there’s a perfect list. One that’s up to date, accurate, and complete – and available free, gratis and for nothing.
It’s called the electoral register.
It’s a simple but brilliant idea:
It’s personalised. As you can see, I got my very own leaflet, addressed to me. It was the only piece of electioneering bumpf I kept (sad, I know).
It’s targeted. Everybody on the electoral register is eligible to vote, so it’s as targeted as it can be. Leaflet droppers hit everyone, registered or not.
It’s comprehensive. If there are three voters in the house, there are three leaflets – not one, unlike the droppers. So everybody gets one (and nobody wants to throw away somebody else’s mail).
And here’s the result:
See – that’s me.
Now here’s the thing. I know how they did it. I know why they did it. I know how easy it is to do. I know it’s a gimmick.
But it works. I get a warm, fuzzy feeling.
And that’s the power of personalisation.
So how are you getting personal with your customers? Are you selling lawn-mowers to people in apartment blocks? Are your prospects all called Sir or Madam? Or, worse still, Friend? And are you using the simple solutions that others don’t even see?
In short, are you leaflet dropping or doing a Dave?
They might just help you beat the recession. Then again…
Here’s a little quiz for you.
They make 80% of discretionary purchases. They buy most new cars, and 55% of consumer electronics. They’re more loyal to brands, readily use word of mouth to spread the good news, and are not being laid off in such great numbers in the ever-deepening recession.
So who are they?
No, not Russian billionaires. Or football stars. Or UK politicians (recently caught with their snouts in the proverbial).
Maybe you’ve already guessed: it’s women.
And now that the cold winds of the downturn are sending a chill into the economy, big business has suddenly discovered them.
Girls, girls, girls
In the UK, Sheila’s Wheels has been marketing exclusively to women for many years, offering insurance on everything from cars to handbags (yes, really).
They know that statistically, women are a lower risk than men, so they can offer better premiums safe in the knowledge that they’re less likely to have to pay out.
It’s a little too pink for my liking, but then maybe that just proves the point. (That said, I think the pink convertible might just put me in touch with my inner Priscilla.)
Now Sheila’s is being joined by mainstream brands. Frito-Lay has launched a campaign called Only in a Woman’s World to get the gals on board when it comes to chowing on down on crisps (aka chips) and popcorn with the guys as they plump up the cushions and reach for the TV remote.
And Coors, the UK’s second biggest brewer, has reportedly set up a working group called Eve, to look into marketing beer to women. In the UK, they represent only 12% of the beer drinkers, compared with 25% in the US. So Coors sees a vast untapped (sorry, couldn’t resist it) market.
US office-supplies chain OfficeMax has also joined the fray, with this advert aimed at women (click here if you can’t see the video below).
You’ll never look at box files in the same way again.
One for all, and all for one?
A word of warning, though – and this holds true whether you’re male or female, and marketing to either sex.
Know your audience.
Yes, it’s obvious – in fact, it’s the cornerstone of all copywriting, marketing and communication. But it’s so often forgotten.
Women are not some amorphous blob, any more than men are. Generalisations are very, very dangerous, because you can easily descend into stereotypes.
Not all women like pink. Not all men like sport. Not all women like a happy ending. Not all men like getting plastered with their mates while wolfing down thick-crust pizzas.
Lots do. But lots don’t.
And consider this: marketing to one segment can be a zero-sum game. Porsche discovered this when they tried to market SUVs to women. Though they saw an initial rise in sales, the numbers soon headed south as men abandoned what they thought of as a female car.
Psychologists call this ‘identity threat’, and it’s something we’re all prone to, whether we admit it or not.
So think long and hard before you market to women only. Or men only. But make sure you choose the right type of women. Or men. The ones you want to sell to, and who’ll respond to your message.
And go easy on the pink. (Unless it’s a hot pink convertible, in which case, bring it on.)
Find out more
What women really want: Hello Girls at Economist.com
This week, I had the brake cables on my bicycle tightened. They now work better than they’ve ever done.The thing is, that’s not why I went to the bike shop.
Let me explain.
Two days earlier, my front mudguard fell off. Again. It’s one of those indestructible plastic ones, that can withstand heat, light, water and just about anything you can throw at it. It’s been stress-tested in wind tunnels and bent to destruction in the mudguard labs.
Unfortunately, it’s attached to the bike by the flimsiest of brackets, which breaks if you look at it. And I did – twice.
So I went to the bike shop. Now Cambridge has no shortage of bike shops - it’s the Beijing of England, with 50% of the workforce cycling to work.
It was closed. A small, grubby, handwritten sign said it would open again in two days.
So I waited.
I could have gone to any number of other shops, but I didn’t. Why? Because the guy who runs it is good – friendly, attentive, helpful and always trying to add value.
Two days later, I left the bike with him so he could fit new mudguards. They come in pairs, so the back one had to be replaced too.
“They finally woke up,” he said about the mudguard people. “People got sick of them breaking, so they’ve strengthened the bracket. Just look.”
And I did – at an industrial-strength, don’t-mess-with-me silver bracket that looked like it was the business.
I didn’t even ask the price of the mudguards. I didn’t need to – that’s how much I trust this chap. And when I picked up my bike, that trust was once again reinforced, with a little something extra.
This time, it was the brake cables. Last time, the chain.
And that’s why I keep going back.
How can I help you?
Good service is common sense. So why is it so rare? Keeping clients happy is a sure way of keeping them as clients.
I can think of two coffee shops I avoid if particular people are on duty there. What should be a relaxing experience turns into a stressful one. By the time my latte is handed to me, I’m just about ready to leave.
By contrast, I can think of another – more expensive – coffee shop where I break into a broad smile if I see my favourite barista grinding, pouring and skimming. I can’t help myself. She exudes enthusiasm and charm.
She knows my regular, and accidentally-on-purpose stamps my loyalty card twice when I buy a coffee.
As you can imagine, I’m the most loyal of customers.
The wheels of industry
Meanwhile, back on the open road, with my DEFCON 1 mudguards, I was struck by one business name that worked. And one that…well, sort of did.
The first I saw on a narrowboat on the River Cam. What a great idea. A doctor that does house calls. You’ve got to love it.
The second was along the same lines. But when I saw it, I just scratched my head. So where do the patients go, I wondered?
And then I got it. But it was too late.
Names either work immediately, or they don’t work at all.
For a FREE, no-obligation chat, call me now on (01223) 241749.
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