Archive for August, 2005

Google_ii

I have been on the road for the last week and a half, and something remarkable happened while I was away. Google went from being the darling of the internet to something poised on the verge of branding ignominy. WTF?

Many things are happening at once here. John Battelle’s book about Google is being talked about.  Google is on the verge of a second stock offering.  There are two new products, Talk and Desktop 2, that reveal more comprehensive ambitions in the marketplace. The article by Elinor Mills, a CNET staff writer, has been released and Google has blacklisted CNET.

The most striking public event in the last 10 days: the press is now prepared to speak ill of Google. Criticism has become a thinkable posture.

I guess this was inevitable The anti-Microsoft could not hope to remain so forever.  As it grew, Google would eventually lose it’s "little guy" status and risk reclassification as the new bully on the scene. 

But what is interesting for a marketer is to watch this event play out in one’s own head.  Over the last few years, Google had wormed its way into my affections. I had made it my search engine, my email supplier, and my desktop search engine. I was impressed by the product development strategies and other aspects of the corporate culture. I was pleased to see Google anoint itself as an enemy of the philistine Microsoft.

And then in the last ten days, things shifted. Call me capricious. Call me inconstant. Call me superficial. But suddenly I could feel the brand slips its moorings. For a marketer, this is a revelational moment. We are there at the moment of creation, in this case, recreation.  We are there to feel the brand sliding out of one meaning and sit poised on the verge of others. 

Most of cultural meanings come draped in their own inevitability…even when they are that particularly subset of meaning, the brand. We don’t choose to think them. They’re just there. We don’t give them their authority. They bring that with them when they enter our world.  We don’t give brands their power or their meanings. We merely honor what is extant.

Until things change. Google is now exploring that moment when the brand is suddenly separated from the meanings and the glory thrust upon it. (No doubt, some of these meanings were crafted through good marketing.  But only some.) Now, the thing, the brand, is negotiable. Now its labile.  Now we know what Google does next, and how we respond will make this thing in our heads called “Google.” 

Now the hard work of marketing begins in earnest.  I wish them well. I think.

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Aug
30

Metaphors R Us: hardware and software

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Tucson

In Dallas, on the weekend, I talked to a woman who spoke good but accented English.  She told me that spoke an aboriginal language most of her childhood. She didn’t learn English till she was about 10 years old.  She learned it from the women who came to live with the family and the 13 kids after her mother fell sick.

She didn’t have a chance to use her English outside the community until some years later.  She and her brother went in to Tucson to buy the hose and the bucket they needed to build an outdoor shower.

She went to the hardware store and placed her order.  The person behind the counter looked at her and raised his hands in the air, the sign of incomprehension.  So she tried again: "can you sell me a bucket and a hose?" She got the same reaction. 

Now she said, “What is the matter with this guy? Doesn’t he speak English?”

The man beside her looked at her with surprise and said, “Lady, you’re speaking Spanish.”

Aug
29

cultural innovators: Dallas vs. Austin

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Dallas

If you want to survey the experimental margin of our culture, chances are you don’t go to Dallas, Texas. Austin, with its aggressive food and film communities, maybe. But chances are you’ll stay clear of Texas altogether. It’s too large to be subtle, too monolithic to be interesting. I mean this is a place that worships football.

But we are learning that a number of unlikely places can play sunken ship—not the dead space that environments warned us against but a place diverse species congregate and multiply. Dallas might, I think, be one of those places.

My first clue was the galleria attached to my hotel. Extravagantly upscale shops all around and at the center of everything, a skating rink.  Witty!  In a land where summer temperature are measured in three digits, this is what “oasis” looks like. 

My second clue: one of the shops in the Galleria has a shoe store called Gregory’s that has devoted one window to the work of Ed Hardy: conventional baseball caps, heavily customized and each of them apparently unique.  One of them showed a skull and cross bones and the legend: “love kills slowly.”  I’m not sure who would wear this or where.  It’s too expensive and dramatic for private use.  So you wear it publicly—with a spouse? With a friend?  By yourself? It’s a little Darwinian possibly, but could we suppose this hat tells us there must be a time and a place where it can be worn and a group who would appreciate it? 

The third clue was the music in the elevator of my hotel, a Westin. Brazilian and interesting, I think, but out of my range. To be fair, my range is not very broad, but this is the first time the music in a hotel elevator has exceeded it.  (Yeah, I know. It is possible that I have finally achieved a complete cultural senescence.  Not recognizing elevator music, that would have to be the first symptom.) 

The fourth clue: Central Market, a food retail operation so aggressive that it makes Whole Foods and Trader Joes look completely pedestrian.  The place was packed with consumers, with variety (over 20 kinds of salsa), with experiments, free samples, exotics foodstuffs I did not recognize, and brands I have never heard of.  The only thing that was not jammed was the check out line.  What a novel idea. Dallas is a place with lots of experiments in the restaurant and food world.  The local notion is that “if you can make it in Dallas, you can make it anywhere.”

Some sunken ships works best when there is one very large, public, and well defined idea in place. As long as this remains in place, as an apparent consensus, the thing everyone KNOWS about Dallas, then everyone can go off and do whatever the hell they want.  And this might be the strategy by which Dallas makes itself more various and more interesting than a place like Austin with its self conscious feeling for the alternative.

This could be one of those cunning identity plays in which the background and foreground are switched.  (A Canadian example: Quebec claims to be a society with one language and culture, but in fact everyone there is bilingual. In the rest of Canada: a great show is made of being bilingual but in fact most everyone is monolingual.)  In this case: Austin is putatively experimental and ends up being a relatively small universe of well policed options while Dallas claims to be narrow and monolithic when it is in fact free wheeling and multiple.

A last note: I had dinner on Saturday with every thinking person’s notion of a power couple: Virginia and Steve Postrel.  I had just finished 7 hours of interviewing so I was pretty sure that my head was going to explode on several occasions.  But I came away with this conclusion. Every business school has the same problem: how to give the MBA student a cultural literacy and the strategic sophistication needed to act on it. I mean some of these kids are going to have to fight the cola wars, decide how Kroger should fight the Central Market threat, find a way to make design a standard part of the Detroit automotive product, or think about the difference between Dallas and Austin.  The b-school curriculum is way under weight on this one.   One way to solve this problem: hire the Postrels and give them the Coca-Cola, Kroger, General Motors Power Couple Professorship. 

(posted from Atlanta)

Aug
26

Story Time 7: effervescing on the flats

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Flats

A couple of years ago, I was doing ethnographic research on the topic of beer drinking. Martin Weigel, my agency double, and I went to Cleveland to a neighborhood filled with bars called “the flats.”

The flats has one big advantage as a place to go drinking. It used to be an industrial area and now it’s just bars. So there is no residential population there to take umbrage when the young people of Cleveland indulge themselves with Dionysian abandon.

Martin is an Englishman and the young people of Ohio are…not. (Some anthropological assertions are incontrovertible.) There are many differences between Englishmen and Ohioans, but this story-time turns on one in particular: the young people of Ohio are pleased to make a spectacle of themselves in a way that Martin and I never would.

The English are raised never to make a spectacle of themselves.* (Canadians, too.) It’s a rule. Laughing too loudly. Sneezing more than once. Shouting, gesticulating, staggering around in public. Anything that suggests a failure of self control breaks the spectacle rule. The penalty is clear. Make a spectacle of yourself and you surrender your status credentials, and, of course, any self respect you may be harboring.

So putting an Englishman and a Canadian onto the flats was a very good idea. (Thank you, J. Walter Thompson.) Nothing we saw there was likely to escape our attention. We might as well have been on Mars. (Martin, my favorite Martian.)

This particular evening, a Thursday I think, all was quiet. Martin and I go into several bars and the tableau is always the same. The music is loud, the place is relatively crowded, the drinks are in place. Everything is there except the spectacle.

The bar is a big square room. Men and women stand around the perimeter. The women, many of them, are dancing in place, as if by themselves. They are standing beside men who are leaning against the bar. Occasionally, the girls beseech the guys to start dancing. The music was deafening. The DJ was exhorting people to dance. Nothing doing. Martin and I look on and wonder: What’s to be learned from a room like this?

We wander out into the street. Kids walk past wearing crazy paper hats with outrageously off-color remarks written on them. One of them reads, and I am not making this up, “sperm receptacle.” Evidently, there is a restaurant in the flats that makes these hats up and hands them out. Wonder of wonders, customers agree to wear them. Further wonder: they then wear them while walking in the flats. Talk about making a spectacle of yourself! Martin can’t believe his eyes.  I feel a strong temptation to look the other way. It’s the only decent, Canadian, thoroughly tedious thing to do.

Martin and I wonder back into the bar. Whammo! All hell has broken lose. Everyone is dancing, including the guys. There are women now actually dancing on the bar. In the ten minutes that Martin and I spent on the street, the bar went off. In his dry English way, Martin said, “I guess they were waiting for us to leave.”

In a perfect world, we would have had Malcolm Gladwell with us. Clearly, some tipping point had just been passed. It would take a finer eye, or at least more research, to determine how the crowd negotiated this sudden transition, this phase change. (The trouble with this research is that there is never more than a couple of days to collect data.) No doubt, several signaling systems were used. Or maybe this is a simple hydraulic system. Combine enough patrons with enough drinks, music, DJ exhortation, and this always happens around the 44 minute mark.

What was especially interesting for Martin and I was that the tipping point here marked a transition from social restraint to spectacle. Something, some things, in the bar worked as a licensing system. All these people had found a way to give one another permission to go nuts. It was a kind of social contract that begins, “I will if you will.” No doubt, there are lots of early gambits. People take leads and no one follows. But eventually one lead brings out a couple of imitators and this provokes still more “adoption” until the whole thing scales up and over the tipping point.

But none of this reckons with the flats. This is apparently a liminal zone, a place that says you may leave your usual “spectacle constraints” at home. There is an inclination to suppose that liminal places are ones in which no rules apply. This is wrong. In fact, the behavior of young people in Cleveland is as highly coded, social formed, cultural codified and socially formed after the tipping point as before it. People who get really blind, stumbling, who-am-I, where-am-I, drunk wake up friendless, unless they have the designated “Jim Belushi” role to play. And ever here there are still rules that constraint what remains a performance of drunkenness.

It is one of those little miracles that happen in American life, governed as it so often is not by a ceremonial order, but something more emergent. We are a culture where things emerge  out  of an apparent muddling and the most subtle of  signalling systems.  Usually, it’s the market place that supplies the field for this convergence not consensus.  Not in Cleveland.  Here it’s that alluvial plane called the flats. 

Reference

Gladwell, Malcolm. The Tipping Point.  Viking. 

Footnote:

* I knew an English family, educated and intelligent, who insisted that no one should ever tell Sarah, a daughter in her early 30s, any sort of joke. Why? Because once someone told Sarah a joke and she couldn’t stop laughing. 

(Filed from Dallas)

 

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Aug
25

Marketing movies

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Has this ever happened to you? 

You finally see a movie on TV that you shunned at the cinema.  And it’s not bad.  In fact, it’s pretty good.  And you ask yourself, "why didn’t I see this in first run?"  And the answer that returns to you is, "the ads on TV made it look kind of dubious."

This happened to me last night.  I was sitting in my hotel room, ransacking the limited selection there for something interesting.  And I came upon the Tom Hanks stuck in an airport movie.  Sure, it was a little stupid in places.  But it also had lots of good points–none of which were promised by the TV ad I saw on TV.

There is a necessary problem here.  Ads for TV always use footage from the movie itself.  (They get this for free.  Why would they go and shoot something more?)  The trouble is they cannot show the "punch lines" without giving away the ending.  And they cannot show the subtler moments, because out of context, these tend to be a little cryptic. 

What they are left with is not very interesting.  In the Tom Hanks in an airport movie, I was left thinking, "stuck in an airport!  C’est moi.  Why would I want to see this in a film?"  More exactly, I couldn’t imagine how a story about a man in an airport could engage or hold me.  All the ad footage had done was to confirm my suspicion that life lived in an airport would be pointless and dreary. 

The solution here is obvious: make real ads.  Don’t use your own footage.  Act like a real marketer instead of marketer-in-law, marketer on the cheap, marketer by proxy.  The qualities that make footage good for a movie make it almost necessarily bad for an ad. 

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Aug
24

Making movies

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Hollywood_1

The slump in Hollywood pictures continues. Ticket sales are off 11.5 percent from last year. 

There are many thoughts on what the trouble is. Waxman of the Times reviews them:

… a failure of studio marketing, the rising price of gas, the lure of alternate entertainment, even the prevalence of commercials and pesky cellphones inside once-sacrosanct theaters. But many movie executives and industry experts are beginning to conclude that something more fundamental is at work: Too many Hollywood movies these days, they say, just are not good enough.

There is another factor that does not seem to be getting much play: the fragmentation in consumer taste and preference. 

Hollywood continues to rely on the blockbuster to make its numbers…and occasionally, this miracle of consensus is forthcoming (e.g., The Wedding Crashers). But any marketer can tell you that markets are fragmenting. This must mean that blockbusters are harder and harder to manufacture. To be sure, Hollywood has always promoted “chick flicks” that could talk to men, and mature pictures that could bring in the young. But the differences of gender and age map only a relatively small part of the difference “out there.”

To make matters more difficult, TV has got better at responding to difference. Hundreds of channels, and the opportunity to leap between them instanteously, this is what responsiveness looks like in the "channel" channel. (Skipping between films in the multi-plex is just wrong somehow.) Furthermore, the relative health of the indie film industry means that there are more and more films that can be precisely targeted (Bend it like Beckham) and one or two “sleepers” that come from narrow origins to go wide. 

Packaged good marketing has had the great luxury of offering multiple offerings in fragmenting channels. Hollywood is obliged to make a one size that fits all. This is not impossible, but it will take a reinvention of the filmmaker’s art and science. As I understand it, marketers in Hollywood now stand mostly for artistic compromise. They encourage market accommodation with scant regard for artistic costs. 

And this is interesting to contemplate: marketers as fully committed to the success of narrative as they are to the demographic reach of the product. What business school is prepared to take this on? Where is the MBA program capable of this breadth? Let’s be honest. Existing MBA program are currently doing a terrible job preparing their students to ride the Tsunami of a dynamic contemporary culture. What makes us think they could add to this new knowledge, the ability to engage in “product innovation” (aka script development) that spoke to many audiences with both artistic engagement and marketing acuity.   Because, and this is the marketer’s new lesson,  it can’t work as a marketing enterprise unless it works as an artistic one. 

In sum, as Hollywood struggles to respond to the challenges of contemporary culture, marketing partners must struggle, too. 

References

Waxman, Sharon. 2005. Summer Fading, Hollywood Sees Fizzle. New York Times. August 24, 2005. here.

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Aug
23

the real integrated marketing

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A nice observation in the NYT today:

[E] xpanding [student] expertise beyond computer programming is crucial to future job security as advances in the Internet and low-cost computers make it easier to shift some technology jobs to nations with well-educated engineers and lower wages, like India and China.

"If you have only technical knowledge, you are vulnerable," said Thomas W. Malone, a professor at the Sloan School of Management at Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the author of "The Future of Work" (Harvard Business School Press, 2004). "But if you can combine business or scientific knowledge with technical savvy, there are a lot of opportunities. And it’s a lot harder to move that kind of work offshore."

This suggests that the first world advantage will not come from being a knowledge worker and the isolated creation of intellectual capital.  It will come from the ability to see how technical knowledge integrates with a fuller  range of marketing intelligence. 

Western cultures have done very well by constructing knowledge silos and making management the cat walk that sees to their integration.  The development of which Malone speaks suggests that the wealth of nations may also come building into the individual a fuller appreciation of the ultimate uses and markets for which any particular act of innovation is destined. 

This is another way of saying that marketing, with a little application, might still be the hero of the piece, the wheel house on which the wealth of Western nations, er, turns. 

References

Lohr, Steve.  2005.  A Techie, Absolutely, and More.  New York Times.  August 23, 2005. here.

(filed from Philadelphia)

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Aug
22

DIY religion

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Pope

Yesterday, the Pope warned against "DIY" religion. The BBC represented it this way:

The Pope told the crowds there were dangers in people finding their own religious routes.

"If it is pushed too far, religion becomes almost a consumer product," he said.

 "People choose what they like, and some are even able to make a profit from it.

 "But religion constructed on a ‘do-it-yourself’ basis cannot ultimately help us," he said.

"Help people to discover the true star which points out the way to us: Jesus Christ."

I understand that in matters of religious belief and doctrine, the correct interpretation is whatever authorities say it is. There is no such thing as a sensible or strategic approach. Religious leaders are obliged to represent the will of God as this has been revealed to them. 

Still, the Catholic Church has from time to time done the strategic thing rather than the orthodox one. Keith Thomas documented one historical moment of this accommodation and the adjustments were extraordinary and thoroughgoing. 

Ironically, the Pope has put his finger not just on any feature of contemporary culture when he objects to “DIY religion.” No, he has managed, no doubt in his wisdom, to identify what is perhaps the single most important feature of contemporary religiosity. 

It’s a pity then that he insists on using this particular language. To use "DYI" makes religious belief sound like a home improvement project, regrouting the bathroom, say, or building a new deck out back. (And the Pope would diminish still further by attributing a profit motive.) But it is wrong to think of the DYI aspect of our culture as self indulgent, giddily wrong headed or opportunistic. This is to miss the anthropological point, and to underestimate how formidable is DYI as a competitor for even faithful hearts and minds. 

How much better it would have been if the Pope has used a term like “chosen religiosity.” In our culture, the act of commitment (to marriage, to identity, to commitment of many kinds) almost always now begins with an act of choice. We are a culture that has moved from assignment to choice in virtually all the dimensions of personal belief. Certainly, there was a time when people were Democrats because, and so to honor the fact that, their parents were. But now this idea is unthinkable. People choose. It’s not doctrine that is obligatory. It’s choice that is. This is what it is to be a culture devoted to individualism. More simply, every one of us is more or less entirely DIY.

I understand that choice is precisely what the Reformation was for, and that the Protestant churches may be seen as so many deliberate variations on how much freedom of choice the individual may exercise. But there must be a way of making room for choice within approved options, say. Or, declaring some things open to choice (yes, “indifferent”) as long as the fundamentals are honored. The alternative is to insist that the Church knows better than the individual even when the individual is prepared, accustomed, and in many cases obliged to decide for themselves. 

References

Anon. 2005. Pope warns against ‘DIY’ religion.  BBC. here.

Thomas, Keith. 1971. Religion and the Decline of Magic. New York: Penguin. 

Aug
19

Story time 6: synaptic marketing

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Coke_1

In blogland, we talk a lot about the role of spontaneity and creativity in making the corporation more responsive and innovative.   

But there is another, simpler use of spontaneity and creativity: good old fashioned survival. 

Sometimes, the client needs an answer from you right now. You can’t say, “I’m not prepared, can I have a couple of hours?” They will say, “sure,” but you know and they know that you will never eat lunch in their corporate cafeteria again. You are over. Done for. Now there is no substitute for problem solving in real time.

Sometimes, management believes erroneously that you were tasked with something…and they want to hear about it right now. It’s no good whining “Hey, no one told me about this.” This will only make your immediate client look bad. You have to come up with an answer. Now. 

In the very worst case, you are asked to address a topic that you WERE charged with investigating, but somehow managed to forget. “Oh, that’s right,” shouts a voice in your head, “I remember now.”

Ok, time for the theatre of gravitas, the dumb show of competence. You must look solemnly at the table, appearing to collect thoughts you are in fact creating, and start talking. Sometimes things go well, and the words and the thoughts fall nicely into place. Sometimes, you find yourself performing a well known one-act play from the theatre of humiliation. In quick succession, you will break into flop sweat, sputter and lose altitude, and spin wildly out of control. You will deploy every rhetorical device at your disposal, fighting for time, hoping that something will come to you. But all these chutes will fail to deploy and it becomes clear eventually that time is, as they say, up. If someone in the room has a sense of humor (and of cruelty), they will say, “thank you, I think we all found that particularly illuminating.” You will laugh about it afterwards. 

Answers, good ones, can be assembled in real time and some people just have a gift for this sort of thing. Robert McNamara stood up once in prep school with a blank piece of paper to "read" the essay he was inventing as he spoke. Hargurchet Bhabra, a friend of mine in Toronto, and now deceased, once gave 8 perfect minutes at a dinner party on the topic of meat loaf. It sounded like he was reading an entry from an encyclopedia of the culinary arts. Dean Clark of the Harvard Business School prided himself with being bullet proof under scrutiny, and he could indeed produce flawless answers in real time. Perhaps the smoothest operator of the academic version of this con is, I think, Marjorie Garber. I once heard her give answers to about a dozen questions, each of them more exquisitely formed than the last. I remember thinking it was a too bad her prose did not have the clarity and precision of these impromptu performances. 

But this is Friday and therefore story time, so I am obliged to report some moment on intellectual improv of my own. Last Friday, we talked about a moment in which Sergio Zyman created an improv moment inside the headquarters of the Coca-Cola headquarters in Atlanta. And today, Mr. Zyman, then senior VP in charge of marketing, returns as the subject of the narrative.

Our story opens with Mr. Zyman sitting in this boardroom at the head of long imposing table. (One of the most gifted readers of This Blog Sits At has pointed out that story time gives the impression that my consulting puts me in exalted company. [I will use his name if he gives me clearance to do so.] In fact, I am only occasionally so situated. Just so that’s clear.) 

There were eight people sitting at the table. At the far end of the table sat four guys who were so perfectly dressed and so damn handsome that it looked like they were hold a convention of high school quarterbacks. Closer to the Zyman end of the table sat four more people, including me, all of us rather less presentable, not quite ragamuffins but not quite quarterbacks. 

Our foursome was lead by Nick Hahn, and we had come to tell Zyman about project we had undertaken and wished to follow through. Things were going slowly. It was clear that the quarterbacks were restive, perhaps jealous of our access. Mr. Zyman was himself skeptical. It was time to call on our powers of spontaneity and win for ourselves and the project a little momentum. 

And the improv came as a gift. Mr. Zyman had opened with remarks about recent developments in marketing. I think he was complaining about the phenomenon of “virtual consumption.” This is where consumers declare that the love the advertising but then fail to go out and buy the product. Conversation meandered forward. It was about time to wrap the pleasantries up. 

Then it happened. Our fourth make a comment. Our third picked it up. Nick supplied the “set.” And happily, it was left to me to spike it home. (Sometimes, you get lucky.) As the thought moved through our foursome, it seemed both to speed up andto  clarify. In fact, it seemed to pass with synaptic speed between us, as if one idea were rushing from head to head in an effort to discover itself. Best of all, it was a brilliant piece of sycophancy. It began where we were and ended up where Mr. Zyman was.  

There was a stunned silence. One of the quarterbacks was actually staring at us with his mouth open. We were blinking with astonishment. After a pause, Mr. Zyman looked down the table and said to the quarterbacks, “well, I hope at least you are taking notes.” 

It wasn’t fair. I haven’t ever seen an idea move this fast. That the quarterbacks were not moving at this pace was surely not their fault. It was as if Mr. Zyman had two choices: to express a little astonishment of his own, or to make someone pay. He chose the latter because his management style is (or at least was) a matter of setting bar high and seeing how could rise to the occasion. In remarks on last Friday’s post, several people took him to task for a judgmental managerial style. I see the point begin made. It is consistent with my first instincts. 

But I have come to respect a style that is a little less forgiving. After all, we don’t “do business” to become one another friends. Mr. Zyman has what is sometimes called a fiduciary responsibility.

 Ok, I must leave the rest to you. I am now back in CT, having been on the road for two weeks.  I leave on Sunday for another of couple of weeks away.  I just can’t finish this post. I promise to come back to it.  Yeah, right, sure I will. 

Categories : Creativity Watch
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Aug
18

Looking for that Northwest(ern) passage

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Men_and_clock

I spend the day at Northwestern, giving a paper to the Marketing department. I was talking about reading trends. I have worked up a new model for doing this, borrowing heavily from Complexity theory and the work of Stuart Kauffman at the Santa Fe Institute.   

I blew by one opening slide called “trends trending upward.” The point of this slide is to note in passing, and much too summarily, that the dynamism of consumer taste and preference appears to be growing.  

Here’s the slide as I presented it.  

1. trend sensitivity is up: Russian glasses

2. more trends at work: end of big slow breakers

3. producing stations more numerous (NY, LA, London, Paris to Atlanta & Iceland)

4. end of mass society: fragmentation of taste

5. trends penetrating new sectors: paint at the hardware store

6. trends peak faster

7. so far the corporation plays catch up

8. what happens when corporations become fully engaged?

Most of these are pretty transparent. The “Russian glasses” notion come from the experience of a friend of mine who examined the possibility of selling prescription glasses in the 2nd and 3rd world, only to discover that Russian visitors are really quite well informed about that fashions in glasses. We used to be able to take advantage of a “back water” effect.  That’s gone.

Point two was about the old days when we had plenty of time to spot new trends and to watch them roll through the marketplace. Now it is closer to a perfect storm, with several trends colliding with sometimes unpredictable results.

Point three noted the problem of how many centers can now participate in cultural innovation. At one time it was enough to keep an eye on NY, LA, London and Paris because innovators else would find themselves shut out by the gatekeepers. Now we know that innovators can happen even in Iceland.  This means we must monitor more widely and the changes that we will miss something (and suffer the blind side hit) have gone up.  

Point four is clear enough, as is point five.   A good way to make point five, I find, is to note that trends have penetrating even that bastion of function and pragmatism, the hardware store.  Our great grandfathers would be astonished to find that paint colors in hardware stores now change routinely.

Point six says simply that trends move more quickly. And this is just about the only reason I think to feel good about the amount of money we pay our cultural icons.  Their moment upon the stage of celebrity can be very brief indeed.

Points seven and eight suggests that as it stands the corporate world is usually playing a game of catch up, often hanging onto trends by their fingernails.  This won’t last long. In the next decade we will see corporations solve the trend watch as they have solved every other problem.  And once this happens, our dynamism will be redoubled. Once corporations are full participants in the trend game, we will set off in a cultural adventure that will be pretty darn astonishing.

This is another way of saying that as people like me create models to track and predict change, the corporation will get better at creating this change.  And then the model building will have to begin again. 

References

McCracken, Grant.  In Press: 2006.  Flock and Flow: tracking consumer taste and preference in a dynamic marketplace.  Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Owens

In the WSJ today, Max Boot gives us a writing lesson.

Step 1: choose a question that people find compelling

Mr. Boot’s question: "Why is Terrell Owens such a jerk?"  (For those just returned from the exploration of deep space, Terrell Owens is a wide- receiver for the Philadelphia Eagles. He is famous for being uncooperative with coaches, hostile to fellow players, and one of the greatest football players ever to walk this earth. His training camp has been the great preoccupation of ESPN for some time now.)

Step 2: Ask, in this case, whether Owens’ bad behavior in training camp is an idiosyncratic matter or a reflection of something more structural.

If it’s “idiosyncractic,” search for another topic. But if it’s “structural,” go to step 3.

Mr. Boot decides it’s structural on the grounds that other wide receivers (Randy Moss and Keyshawn Johnson) sometimes act as Mr. Owens does.

 Step 3:  Ask yourself whether there is anything about the position of wide receiver that might provoke Terrell Owens’s bad behavior. Mr. Boot obliges us:

Wide receivers are far removed — literally — from the rest of the team: They line up close to the sidelines. While the other players battle in the trenches, the wide-outs do their own thing, dashing around the field accompanied only by a defensive back or two. They aren’t part of the action unless they get thrown the ball, so many of them spend an inordinate amount of time lobbying their own coaches and quarterbacks to get the pigskin into their paws. In short, they have a built-in incentive to be loudmouths. And whereas other players know they’ll be ruthlessly punished by the opposing team for acting up, wide-outs can usually stay safe by running out of bounds or flopping to the turf prior to a hit.

Step 4: Ask an anthropologist if there is anything he would add. He obliges us with two additional explanations.

1) Wide receivers are often the best athletes on the field. They routinely accomplish something that is almost unthinkably difficult. They travel 50 yards at Olympic-class speeds, leap in the air to NBA-class heights, and while falling backwards, first touch and then, while hyper-extended and dragging two defensive backs, catch something that isn’t much larger than a hamster, traveling about 60 miles an hour, thrown by a lesser athlete who just happens to be running for his life at the point of origin and moment of launch.

2) Wide receivers are routinely subjected to blind side hits when hyper extended. This means the best athlete on the field is exposed to collisions when most exposed and least prepared. The best athlete, mind you: most exposed to injury when least prepared for injury. I can’t help thinking that this would make me grumpy too. (Happily, anthropology is fairly low contact.)

Step 5:  Wait  for the congratulations to roll in

Here’s some now: Well done, Mr. Box. This is an important contribution to public discourse and a fresh and intelligent take on the single biggest story to emerge from training camp.  It penetrates all that who-does-this-guy-think-he-is, sometimes racist scorn that has descended on Mr. Owens.  In a second, ESPN condemnation burns away and for one very brief second we can imagine what it’s like to be Terrell Owens. I say, well done, Mr. Boot. If you weren’t writing for the Wall Street Journal, you’d make a damn fine blogger.

References

Boot, Max. 2005. In Bad Company: Why Terrell Owens Isn’t the Only Wide Receiver Who’s Not a Team Player.  Wall Street Journal. August 17, 2005.

Categories : Media Watch
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Aug
16

Living in the light of Hollywood

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Hollywood

I was in Santa Monica last week doing ethnographic work for a client. In the course of an interview, one of my respondents said, “it’s all about attitude.”

He was commenting on suits. I was wearing one. He was not. He was telling me Californians don’t need suits to make an impression. They wear attitude.

CA has a symbolic economy very different from CT. (Break out the Pulitzers! Anthropologist reports breakthrough finding: CT and CA not the same!)

One of the important differences is that there is a very well marked elite in this system. At the top of the hierarchy sits anyone who is “recognizable.” This category sorts very finely, from the extraordinarily famous (Brad Pitt) to a face you remember from TV (“wasn’t he on that X-Files episode, the one where…”). In this world, merely having a face that has been seen before puts you in a special club and the first category…even if it leaves you a long, long way from Brad Pitt.

The second category is made up of people who might well be a very big sneeze in the larger scheme of things. They could be producers, power brokers, star makers, even. This group needs to let you know that they may not be recognizable, but that doesn’t mean they are obscure. Yes, sometimes membership is declared by an “S” class Mercedes but the rest of the time it is attitude that sends the message that this is someone to be reckoned with.

The third category is made up of people who are not players in the game. They are ordinary people with no status card to play. The good news? We, the witless bystander, don’t know that. The trick here is to summon enough attitude to create a shadow of a doubt.  We should look upon them and say, “wow, this guy must really be something.  He carries himself like Napoleon.”

The fourth category is people who cannot sell the lie. These are people working in restaurants or Starbucks.  There is no shadow of a doubt. This person is not famous and they are not powerful. Some of these people cultivate the anti-attitude. They cultivate pure self possession. They carry themselves with that air that says, “I don’t need your admiration, I have my own.”  Now, some part of us knows that these people would trade this self possession for even a little stardom without a second thought.  But we are nevertheless impressed. To be this close to the Hollywood game and to summon a counterweight celebrity, a self constructed stardom, this is not easy.  Some part of us is impressed by the sheer acting talent on display and we are likely to mutter, “this kid should be in pictures.”

The fifth category is people who want you to know that they despise the star system and the hierarchy it creates.  How do they do this?  You guessed it.  Attitude!  They use attitude to say that they don’t care about Hollywood or stardom, that they are glad that they are not famous, glad, get it, glad! Now attitude sends a new message altogether: f*ck you, buddy.  I’m a Goth and in that world, I’m a God.” 

Hmm, let’s review. It is all about attitude. 

Aug
15

Shared sacrifice

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Bob Herbert of the Times tells the tragic story of Bobby Rosendahl, a 24-year-old Army corporal from Tacoma, Washington.  Corporal Rosendahl was injured on March 12 in Iraq.  He has lost one leg to amputation and is struggling to keep the other, not least, his mother says, because he is a passionate golfer.  Corporal Rosendahl has now had 36 surgeries.

Herbert makes this important point

Families forced to absorb the blow of a loved one getting wounded frequently watch other pillars of their lives topple like dominoes. What is unusual with regard to this war is the absence of a sense of shared sacrifice. While families like Ms. Olson’s are losing almost everything, most of us are making no sacrifice at all.

One way to share in the sacrifice is to support Fisher House Foundation.  Fisher House donates "comfort homes," built on the grounds of major military and VA medical centers. These homes enable family members to be close to a loved one at the most stressful times – during the hospitalization for an unexpected illnes, disease, or injury.

There is at least one Fisher House™ at every major military medical center to assist families in need and to ensure that they are provided with the comforts of home in a supportive environment.

Annually, the Fisher House™ program serves more than 8,500 families, and have made available more than 1,500,000 days of lodging to family members since the program originated in 1990.

[I]t is estimated that families have saved nearly $60 million by staying at a Fisher House™ since the program began.

To learn more about Fisher House: here

To give online: here

References

Herbert, Rob.  2005.  Lives Blown Apart.  New York Times. August 15, 2005. here.

Categories : Continuities
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Sergio_1This chapter of story time recalls an event that took place at the headquarters of the Coca-Cola Company about 10 years ago. 
____________________________________________

We are gathered here today to hear Sergio Zyman, Senior Vice President of the Coca-Cola Company. He’s come to evaluate our project. By all appearances, he’s made up his mind.

“Well, thank you for this, but, really, it’s lazy marketing, isn’t it?”

We’re arrayed in a very large horseshoe, about 50 of us. Mr. Zyman sits at the opening of the horseshoe, smiling, gracious, handsome and pitiless.

“I mean, it’s not very good, is it?”

This is wrong and its irritating. The project team has spend 12 weeks trying hard to get it right. Our best efforts have been judged and found wanting.

“But I don’t want to talk to you about the project.”

Mr. Zyman pauses for effect.

“No, I’m here to talk to you about the Catholic Church.”

If the opening remark was painful, this one is bewildering. We are deep inside the well-fortified Atlanta headquarters of the Coca-Cola Company. We are assembled, surely, to talk about soft drinks. But Mr. Zyman wants to talk about…the Catholic church. For some reason, everyone looks at Mr. Zyman’s half dozen assistants.

These men and women are, at the moment, not just looking at their boss, they are scanning him.  Was there a memo?  When did we talk about this? Did I miss something? They are x-raying the boss for any little sign. Mr. Zyman gives no hint.

“So, you’re the Catholic church, what’s your problem?”

The question is not rhetorical.  Mr. Zyman wants an answer. No one says a thing. We’re calculating the odds. With over 50 people in the room, what are the chances any one of us will have to answer it? Every one appears to have hit upon the same strategy. Avoid contact. Keep your head down. Maybe he fix on someone else.

Wrong again. Mr. Zyman is asking everyone. He’s starting at the top of the horseshoe and he’s going to go around. He’s going to begin with one of his assistants.

Poor man. Perfect in his conservative blue suit, distinguished grey hair, and five hundred dollar shoes, he ought to be the picture of composure. Not today. Today he’s at the limit of his competence. This is a man who can no doubt recite profit and loss statements for the last four quarters for any of the hundreds of countries in which Coca-Cola does business. He can give you figures for “volume versus profit” for each decade in the post war period. What he cannot do is talk about the Catholic church. More to the point, what he cannot do is turn on a dime.

Mr. ExpensiveShoes stares at his boss. He stares at his own handsome leather folder. He looks again at his boss and quickly back to the folder. His eyes are losing that racing quality. They are beginning ever so slightly to glaze. He clutches at his folder. He opens his mouth…and nothing comes out.

“Well, let’s go round the room. So you’re the Catholic church, what’s your problem.”

If anxiety were a colour, the air above our heads is now fuchsia. It is clear that every single one of us is going to have to answer Mr. Zyman’s bewildering question. There is, in fact, no place to hide. We all set to thinking and the next person in the horseshoe struggles to rise to the occasion.

“My problem is that, that, I’m running out of priests.”

“That is not your problem. Next.”

“The problem is that I’m running out of believers.”

“Better. Why?”

“um…birth control?”

“Please. Next!”

“I did away with incense and Latin and mystery.”

“Interesting. We’ll come back to that. Next.”

I can see my turn coming. It is about 20 people away and moving towards me like an Exocet. The anxiety is so high I keep blanking. I have to reconstruct. If the answer was “I did away with incense and Latin and mystery,” what was the question? Finally it comes to me. (I am a game show contestant: “Alex, I believe it’s, “What is the problem with the Catholic church?”) But the anxiety’s so high I lose it again. Fortunately, it’s still someone else’s turn.

“The Pope is turning back the clock.”

“Yikes, that’s not it.”

Some people probably got it right away. Predictably, it took me several minutes. Mr. Zyman is not asking us to contemplate the problems of the Catholic church. He’s asking us to contemplate the problems of the Coca-Cola company. Plainly, this is, for Mr. Zyman, a technical exercise. He means no irreverence in suggesting a profane institution like Coca-Cola bears a resemblance to the Catholic Church. He’s after something else.

Using metaphor is a good idea for two reasons. Normally, a discussion of this kind inside Coca-Cola would be loaded with politics. The question, “So you’re the Coca-Cola Company, what’s your problem?” invites disparate opinions and some deeply felt hostilities.

More important, the metaphor is transformational. It helps us think. Both Coca-Cola and the Catholic church are (each in their way) ancient international enterprises. Both are losing market share (and faithful) in first world countries. Both must compete with a range of new competitors who did not exist 20 years ago. In Coca-Cola’s case, this is Snapple, Gatorade, bottled water, and an explosion of developments in the tea and coffee categories. For the Catholic church, this is Protestant fundamentalism on one side and New Age spirituality on the other. (I know no one wants to hear this, but, at a deep cultural level, the two are not unrelated.)

Both institutions are so deeply rooted in their own conventions and traditions that rapid change is difficult. Both institutions find themselves in worlds of new and extraordinary dynamism. There was a time in which both Coke and Rome controlled their environment because, to a large extent, they were the environment. They called the shots. For both institutions those days are gone.

Mr. Zyman’s strategy is beginning to work. As people use the metaphor, they begin to see the Coca-Cola company anew (to say nothing of the Catholic church). Before long, the room quickens to the pace. Anxiety is replaced by the thrill of the chase. Before long, Mr. Zyman is working us like a roomful of better-than-average Princetonians.

But there were some people who never saw what we were talking about. Well educated, talented, hardworking, the best and the brightest of a Yale MBA class, they still can not quite “get it.” Oh, they get the formulae: Coca-Cola = Catholic church. But they can’t do the exercise. They can’t play it out. More than one of the assistants resorts to saying “pass” when his turn comes. And one of them actually says, “I agree with what the person before me said.”

This is not pretty to watch. Executives who can’t get the metaphor do at least have a very clear idea of what is happening to their careers. These disastrous performances are making them look flat footed, unimaginative knuckleheads. In the high altitude world of Mr. Zyman’s Coca-Cola, this is fast becoming a culling exercise: a new way to separate the sheep from the goats. 

There was a time at Coca-Cola that Mr. ExpensiveShoes could be another kind of person. Indeed there was a time when Coca-Cola was very like the military (or, for that matter, the Catholic church). The individual who wished to rise with in it had a clear path cut out for them. Learn the rule book, abide by the rule book, administer the rule book and put in your time. These days, an additional set of skills are called for.


Categories : Creativity Watch
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Aug
11

Puzzle2: I [heart] hip hop

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Dr_dre_1Hip hop has dominated contemporary music with astonishing power and thoroughness.  It has captured and refashioned taste in music, film, clothing to say nothing of patterns of speech and non verbal communication.

But ours is a dynamic culture and we know better than to suppose that any cultural phenomenon has installed itself in our hearts forever.  Hip hop reigns triumphant, but this is what culture always does: persuades us that the present terms of reference are the only terms of reference.  A decade later we shake our heads, and wonder to ourselves "what was I thinking?"

A couple of days ago, I was in a mall in Connecticut and I saw a 10 year old girl, the very picture of suburban privilege, whistle past in an "I [heart] hip hop" t-shirt.  There is an ad on TV that is "targeted" at kids in Junior High that uses a hip hop voice over. 

For many trends, this is the kiss of death.  Any cultural development that claims a certain street cred, a certain outlaw menace, cannot survive this kind of company.  Ten year old girls are supposed to recoil from hip hop, not proclaim their affection for it.  The classic diffusion model says that  early adopters drop things the moment these things are embraced by late adopters.  In this case, the meanings of the brand are erased by some of the consumers who adopt it.  This is the tragic condition of many brands.  Expansion is the beginning of the end.

The experts are divided.  The Times has been arguing in the last several weeks that hip hop may have peaked.   (Yeah, I know, I can’t quite believe I am using the Times  as a cultural indicator, either.  I really should get out more.)    But I just had lunch with a highly placed executive at a Santa Monica label and she said she’s not worried.  Her label has made a prince’s ransom from hip hop and she believes it will continue to do so for the forseeable future. 

And who knows she may be right.  We know that the fragmentation of the marketplace has actually (and ironically) been very good for some brands in the mainstream.  As plenitude  creates lots of little brands, the very large ones have taken on a certain anthemic significance.  As everyone pursues many minor enthusiams, they are sometimes inclined to keep a large brand in their preference portfolio, the better to stay in touch with a larger community.  This could be very good for hip hop. 

It is also true that the hip hop community in general and Dr. Dre (as pictured)  in particular, have been ecumenical in their approach to things (and late adopters).  Unlike the alternative music of the 1990s, hip hop has been open to diverse audiences and unexpected musical partners.   Naturally, there must be limits to this patience and the new segments may have tested these limits.  In general, though, if it’s ok with Dr. Dre, it’s ok with the rest of us.

Alright then.

Please do not open the booklet or pick up your pencil until told to do so.

You may begin.

1.  Hip hop as a mass phenomenon and the magnetic north of contemporary culture

a. has already peaked
b. is good for another year
c. is good for another three years
d. is good for another five years
e. is here for the duration

2.  Please explain.

Categories : Uncategorized
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