speaking in clicks

[November 6, 2009]

Over the course of a career, the average writer probably hears “People don’t read anymore” at least a couple million times. Like “White Men Can’t Jump” it’s the kind of statement that sounds axiomatic simply because it’s terse.

It’s no surprise, really, that this phrase is so popular. Saying something is “over” is the easiest way to set yourself up as an arbitor of taste. Here’s what Steve Jobs said just over a year ago, regarding the Amazon Kindle:

It doesn’t matter how good or bad the product is, the fact is that people don’t read anymore…Forty percent of the people in the U.S. read one book or less last year. The whole conception is flawed at the top because people don’t read anymore.

Now, I can’t help thinking this statement was less about the absense of readers and more about the absense of a valid business model for entering the e-reader market. But by May of this year the rumor mill suggested Apple had found the solution. Perhaps in the meantime Reading went from dead to “undead.” Otherwise, who exactly is the current iPhone Kindle app intended for?

Regardless, let’s look at the 40% figure cited by Jobs. Taken at face value, it leaves 60% of Americans, or about 183 million people, who read one book or more last year. Maybe some of these people also read a newspaper, magazine or blog post. Or are these being read by homunculi?

That’s a lot of reading…
But let’s stick with books, like those on The New York Times paperback, non-fiction bestseller list for October 30, 2009. At Number 2 is a book about economics. Number 3 is about Afghanistan. Number 6 and 8 are by Malcolm Gladwell and Number 16 and 20 are philosophical rambles about the Deity. That’s brainy stuff for people who “don’t read anymore.” So it seems no one has driven a stake into the heart of Reading just yet.

Of course, once a statistic is involved, peer pressure makes pop axioms catch on like wildfire. Today’s hipster would rather die than admit to reading a book. Makes you wonder how Stephanie Meyer pays her mortgage—yet, strangely, she sells 500-page books faster than you can spell “transmogrification.” I wonder how many of her readers belong to Oprah’s Book Club.

…by people who appreciate real writing.
In fact, it’s never been a question of whether people will read, but what they’ll read. If market research suggests “nobody” reads online, it can only mean “nobody” wants to read the clipped Marketingese demanded by many a Marketing Manager or the kind of Art Director who cares more about pixel widths than motivating consumers.

Simply let Copy creatives write the way their craft, talent and experience tell them to and people will gladly read online—with or without a rollover coupon offer, expert video or a bloodless virtual sales force to sweeten the pot.

[November 3, 2009]

What’s a creative brief supposed to accomplish?

I doubt I’ve ever heard the same answer twice. At one end of the spectrum, people see a creative brief as a recipe, a list of dos and don’ts based on a closed set of assumptions. At the other end, people see a creative brief as no more than a jumping-off point.

Where someone stands on this issue has very little to do with their title. What really determines their position is expediency. We all come to a project with our own bottom line requirements. So if arguing for a loose interpretation of the brief meets those requirements, so be it. If only a strict interpretation will do the trick, guess which approach we favor?

Sad to say, that’s human nature, but it’s also an indication of how poorly defined the thing we call a “creative brief” actually is. Philosophy aside, it’s time to realize that a true creative brief is not a piece of paper, but the thought process behind it—a process that must be agreed to from the beginning.

Differences out in the open…
Having seen so much time wasted on meaningless disputes about what is or is not “in the brief,” I think every agency should commit to a coherent definition of the structure, function and intent of a creative brief. Agencies should then weave that definition into the very fabric of each client relationship.

In the process of defining the creative brief for a project, real differences of opinion will arise between agency and client. That’s a good thing. In my experience, nothing drags a project to mediocrity faster than smoothing over differences just to “make nice.”

In fact, the next time someone tells you they “don’t want to open that can of worms right now,” ask them why they want to perpetuate bad practice. As I see it, the only way to work together effectively is to reach an open, honest consensus that takes everyone’s point of view into account.

…then reach for common ground.
Because that’s exactly what a creative brief is supposed to accomplish: A basis for mutual agreement. Why? Think back to the number of times in your own experience that a project has reached a crisis point mid-stream. You’ll find that’s when the lack of consensus finally came to light.

Clients who say “I don’t want to inhibit creativity,” only to quash anything that doesn’t meet their detailed expectations, aren’t doing the project any favors. By the same token, agency types who want to give every SMS barcode-coupon “the One Show treatment” —should let their intentions be known up front.

That way, both sides are more likely to avoid the scenario I’ve seen played out more times than I can count: The project that’s over budget, out of time—and has as much audience appeal as an exploding can of worms.

[October 30, 2009]

The familiar proverb about the relative communication power of pictures and words has apparently been attributed to an ancient sage, a modern printing press operator and even Napoleon. Whatever. I’ve never bought the thought behind it.

As I see it, “words” and “pictures” are too broad to be encompassed by a simple maxim. More to the point, I no longer see them as separate categories. Both call up images and both tell stories.

But let’s assume we take the proverb at face value. If a picture is worth 1000 words, my question is: Which words? And if we agree that images and words are equally open to interpretation, perhaps it’s the words you associate with an image that truly define it, if only for yourself.

To test my little theory, I took a single piece of stock art and hammered out three concept boards for contrasting product categories. Each one uses a phrase or two of existing copy, just to keep it in the right brand orbit:

Same picture, three different messages. Without a context the picture takes us only so far. That is, of course, until you start concocting your own narrative about it, out of your personal experience.

Now, I’d argue there’s another layer to this issue. Because clearly what’s coming through in these examples—or in any kind of advertising space—is not words and pictures, but an idea.

The only reason any ad gets through to its audience is because it has an underlying premise, a piece of our cultural heritage that rings true as universal. And that goes double for ads that hide out on Facebook in “app’s clothing.”

So am I tempted to revise the proverb to read “An idea is worth 1000 words and pictures?” No way. Behind both and everything we do is an infinite phenomenon we know as our humanity. Trying to reach someone? You can use 100,000 words or pictures, but you won’t get through unless you grasp the human equation.

That takes a lifetime, measured in actions, emotions, ideas, belief systems—and yes, even the words, pictures and gestures we use to get a handle on them.

[October 27, 2009]

Much as we like to think we’re in control, many factors influence our actions in ways we don’t always perceive. We’re deeply influenced by our culture, for example, including the “musts” and “shoulds” that govern social situations. We’re also tugged at by conditioned responses learned either in childhood or in response to any of life’s other traumatic experiences.

If you don’t believe me, give a colleague a piece of writing to evaluate. Then count the seconds before they reach for a red pen. The average probably hovers between 15–30 seconds. Now why should that be?

To me, it’s a classic case of conditioning, rooted in the first and only model most people have for evaluating someone else’s work: Their school experience. The homework paper covered with red squiggles that pops into your mind just now is the memory of a teacher’s corrections. It’s a “corrective” model of evaluation and, at least on paper, has a certain validity in the classroom.

When it comes to evaluating creative Copy, however, this corrective response is counterproductive. Advertising is a collaborative process, carried out by a team of equals. It’s a process based on assumptions set out in a creative brief you all honor.

So instead of reaching for the red pen, reach out—and discuss the assumptions behind the text. Instead of focusing on individual words, learn what your colleague was trying to achieve. Then determine whether, in your opinion, the Copy concept accurately conveys:

• The value the project itself delivers
• The end-benefit of the particular product or service
• The place that benefit occupies in the total brand universe

Next, see if you feel the tone and voice is consistent with the brand’s identity and your knowledge of the audience. Think some points are unclear, or the emphasis skewed? Make it known, but be sure to convey your concerns in actionable terms. Telling Copy creatives that “you’re not crazy about” their headlines gives them no insight into the solution you seek.

And remember: Your role is to articulate the problems you see, not solve them. That’s up to the Creative team. Instead of wasting time rewriting, recognize that writing itself is immaterial—compared to the overall structure of the communication.

That, I want to emphasize, is a Copy creative’s main function: to create the structure necessary to move consumers to action. Only when that structure is in place is it time to dither about word choices, and the 1000-and-one technical matters usually mistaken for “grammar.”

So to build a more productive, more efficient creative evaluation process, go against your conditioning and use a collaborative model. Because when it comes to evaluating Copy, it’s not about the “right words” or the “wrong words.” It’s about how well the Copy articulates the brand’s message to consumers, as it continues to unfold over time.

[October 23, 2009]

One of the most puzzling aspects of working in this industry is the way agencies typically relate—or fail to relate—to their clients. Get a gaggle of agency people into one room and you can easily hear hundreds of stories about client relationships “gone wild.”

From outright antagonism to turn-on-a-dime revisions and hairpin schedule changes, the stories are practically a clinical study of hypertension. I’ve never been on the client side, but I’m sure the horror stories told by our clients about agency types would themselves fill several gigabytes of Kindleware. Why? The answer lies in our confrontational corporate culture.

Me, Myself and Them.
Considering how interdependent we are, it’s surprising to think how often we go our separate, siloed ways in the course of a project. Of course, I’d be the last person to say there aren’t times when the much-vaunted laws of synergy are inoperative. Everyone involved needs time and space to craft an individual response to the challenges each assignment presents.

The trouble begins, however, with the us-them mentality that arises, whenever deadlines are short, money is tight and the chronically understaffed work docket is ready to burst. It’s the kind of pressure that easily warps your vision, until you see everyone in your path as an obstacle.

The sad reality is, the toxic nature of our business makes it all too easy to forget that “they”—client or agency folk—have five senses, a brain, a heart and a sense of humor. As I see it, failure to acknowledge this is the root cause of so much occupational heartburn.

Epaulettes? Really?
I also see one source of that toxicity in the pseudo-military culture affected by American business. Somehow, despite the upheavals of the ’60s, “Women’s Lib,” and a so-called management revolution, the dominant voice is still Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry.

Now, the trouble with Dirty Harry is he thinks there’s a straight-from-the-hip solution to every problem. “Client Harry” doesn’t get why the agency can’t “Just Do It” and deliver a fleshed-out multimedia campaign in a month. “Agency Harry” doesn’t get why clients can’t “Just Do It” and deliver same-day comments. It’s a table-thumping, phone-slamming approach to collaboration that misses the point altogether.

“Winning” is for Losers.
Tell me if you’ve heard this one: Collaboration isn’t about winning or losing. Yet, in a corporate culture that puts so much emphasis on who gets credit, “being right” quickly becomes the only thing that matters. Once unleashed, it matters more than engaging consumers, building the brand—even more than actually turning a profit.

How do we remake this unhealthy us-them culture? Part of the answer lies in reworking the standard creative process model. I’ll share my ideas about that in a later post. At a more fundamental level, however, if you want to stop telling horror stories, you’ll have to start by acknowledging that “They” are people like you.

[October 20, 2009] 

Whenever agency folk gather round the conference table to review creative concepts, they enter the room in full view. Coffee cups slosh, florescent lights flicker and chairs squeak—as everyone settles in for the big presentation.

One person, however, enters silently and unseen, sits sullenly in the corner, yet manages to cast a shadow over the entire room. His name is “The Man in the Street.” Over the course of the creative presentation, he wields his subtle sway and, only minutes into the meeting, someone inevitably becomes his staunch, self-righteous advocate.

“I don’t see,” the snide and often outraged rant begins, “how you expect The Man in the Street to understandthat.”

I find this phenomenon very interesting. For one thing, you’ll notice that people who utter this phrase never identify themselves as “The Man in the Street.” He’s always someone else, isn’t he? The same is true for his alcoholic brother, “Joe Six Pack” or his obsessive-compulsive cousins, the “Soccer Moms.”

So here we are, espousers of MTV egalitarianism, who have carefully checked each concept for evidence of diversity. Here we are—using a thoughtless stereotype as our measuring stick for a creative concept.

“They” won’t get it.
In fact, it’s a stereotype so universally known and subscribed to, that this fictional character’s advocate can claim to know exactly how he’ll react—without the faintest burden of proof. “The Man in the Street just won’t get it,” we often hear, “you’ll get zero results that way.”

Now, I’ll go out on a limb and assume that the creative concepts you evaluate are based on a creative brief. I’ll also assume that this creative brief contains an audience profile, distilled from countless hours of carefully nuanced market research. Yet typically, even when this audience profile indicates that our target is “Highly Educated, High Income,” you can barely count to 10 before someone invokes The Man in the Street.

Just say no to Joe.
I say it’s time we put aside all this rubbish about “average” people and be honest. Let’s acknowledge that this fictional man is not in the room—and that when we advocate for his concerns we’re really expressing our own reservations, our own outrage and lack of comprehension.

Instead of relying on thinly-disguised scare tactics, let’s articulate our concerns in terms of detailed, actionable comments. Let’s give the Creative team room to find a creative solution—not a solution based on the politics of fear. By refusing to invoke outmoded boogey men (who are sometimes women) to support our evaluations, we’ll do much more than improve our creative process.

We’ll stop the shameful practice of placing our jeans-worthy selves on a pedestal of enlightenment and grace, while reviling our audience as a gang of obsessive, beer-swilling idiots, who need step-by-step instructions to open an envelope and “See inside for details.”

[October 16, 2009]

The National Wildlife Federation site I reviewed in my previous post delivers a coherent message in a relatively engaging package. Yet its tidy, modular construction lacks the drama associated with the forces of nature. Undoubtedly, that’s intentional. The site’s goal is to make the concept of wildlife accessible, more like a Disney character than an eons-old survivor of tooth, claw and infestation.

Emotion at the core…
Greenpeace takes a different approach, plunging visitors right into the issues with its dynamic home page marquee. Coupled with a distribution strategy enabling users to subscribe to “GreenpeaceVideo” on YouTube, this visually striking content expands the reach of the site, giving the user experience more dimension.

Many of the interior pages, however, have all the visual appeal of a typical high school year book. Despite well-conceived content, I suspect only the most devoted will spend more than a few minutes on the site at a time.

…articulated & supported…
By contrast, Susan G. Komen for the Cure, and Live Strong (the Lance Armstrong Foundation site) create a motivating user experience by merging their strategic, design and content choices into a distinct “personality profile.”

Like the American Diabetes Association, Susan G. Komen for the Cure enables users to choose their path through the site. It does so, however in the context of an umbrella theme, “Join the Global Breast Cancer Movement.” By establishing a broader context for the site’s content, it creates a sense of arrival, reassuring people that they’ve come to the right place.

Supporting that sense are carefully integrated profiles of cancer sufferers, survivors and healthcare professionals. Yet the site’s attention to architecture and message still leaves plenty of room for the detailed information craved by “active seekers.” The site also owes its impact to Copy that respects its audience’s intelligence, as it offers a voice of reason in the eye of an emotional storm.

…by integrating key elements.
Another fine example of tight integration between message, architecture, design and copy is Live Strong. Here, life-affirming color, artfully cropped photography and an invitingly colloquial tone create an immediate sense of belonging. On key pages, the inventive marquee gathers diverse imagery into a unified graphic style. Underlying these images is “Live Strong,” the call to action to which all site content relates.

This two-word phrase summarizes a philosophy addressing both a cancer sufferer’s will to survive and an individual’s route to cancer prevention. No empty show of bravura, this philosophy is defined by the discrete steps it encourages users to take.

Like Susan B. Komen for the Cure, Live Strong is among the most motivating cause marketing sites I’ve seen—precisely because it’s also among the most human. By banishing marketing speak and coy set pieces “From the President’s Desk,” both sites address real concerns of real people in real time—not to score points in Google Analytics, but to make a priceless human connection.

[October 13, 2009]

As I continued to explore cause marketing Web sites, I discovered that the messaging, design and content issues I discussed in my previous post recurred in varying degrees on other sites. Even those showing greater sensitivity to design and user experience were only as effective as their messaging strategies allowed them to be.

Comparatively speaking, the American Diabetes Association site addresses many of the concerns I’ve raised so far, at least schematically. Its marquee area starkly establishes a central theme of health care reform and draws visitors into the cause with bold action statements: “Sign Our Petition,” “Get the Facts about Health Care Reform,” and “Share Your Health Care Story.”

Equally important, the home page menu helps visitors find an appropriate path through the site, whether they are active seekers, people with diabetes, caretakers or healthcare professionals. So, with minimal use of “real estate” the site outlines a significant percentage of its message very efficiently. With its uncluttered look, clear navigation and featured content, I suspect visitors find the home page easy to grasp.

“Gettable,” but Forgettable.
Clarity, however, is not enough. Another crucial factor is emotional impact, and in this respect the site is very ineffective. Internal links inviting users to participate in events, volunteer their time or register their support, have a bland, off-the-shelf visual style. Many of the images are indistinguishable from those found in marketing brochures for summer camps.

Equally generic is the writing style, an outgrowth of the standardized calls to action common to many a non-profit organization. Together, these predictable visual and verbal elements rob the site of a key component: A unique, branded voice.

Conversation, Community, Communication…
By contrast, the National Wildlife Federation site reflects a more coherent messaging strategy. It leads with a marquee area subtly set off from what follows, allowing visitors to pause and absorb the statement, “Inspiring Americans to protect wildlife for our children’s future.” Rather than demanding our participation this marquee respectfully invites us in.

Next, non-verbal cues convey calm wonder at, and positive affirmation of, our prospects for achieving the Federation’s stated goals. Along with a consistent, uncluttered design palette, the site also features a judicious use of video—adding dimension to its message and offering many users a more accessible way to absorb its central points.

What’s more, this site’s conversational tone creates a feeling of community and shared responsibility—unburdened by finger pointing. As a result, a site every bit as encyclopedic as diabetes.org makes its points in a much more easily digestible way.

That’s no accident. In fact, this site is a clear reflection of a well-conceived, overarching message to its audience: “Wildlife preservation is not only morally correct, it’s also achievable, practical and enjoyable.”

My survey of selected cause marketing sites continues in my next post, where I’ll explore sites that carry this principle a step further.

[October 9, 2009]

Spreading the word about a cause involves a delicate balance between making an emotional connection, raising awareness and raising funds. Add to that the wealth of clinical data, news, celebrity endorsements, testimonials or lifestyle advice these causes may want to convey—and the difficulty of creating an effective Web presence increases exponentially.

To illustrate, let’s look at representative Web sites, selected unscientifically, but not quite at random. Of course, nothing I say here about design or messaging is any reflection on the invaluable work these organizations do. They deserve our respect and admiration for their dedication to helping others. My goal is simply to suggest ways they might engage their audiences more effectively.

Data & Distraction.
As I see it, The American Lung Association site shows the problems cause marketers face very clearly. While the headline “Improving Life One Breath at a Time” offers visitors some orientation, the densely packed array of top navigation, article lead-ins, sidebar links and a scrolling roster of “breaking news” gives the eye nowhere to rest.

No doubt this density results from a desire to offer visitors as many points of engagement as possible. “Whatever your concern,” the site seems to say, “we have something for you.” My concern is that the definition of “you” is not clear.

Even within a targeted audience, site visitors are not all the same. In this case, they may include people with lung disease, their caregivers or local health officials. The site, however, offers each visitor the same experience.

What’s needed is a clear indication of the most relevant user path for each type of visitor. Regrouping site topics under larger collective titles, expressed in action statements, is one way to accomplish this.

Messaging & Structure.
Inevitably, however, the solution goes beyond cosmetic changes. In my opinion, it’s a question of focus. I suspect that the current state of the site reflects a lack of clarity in the Association’s messaging strategy. It needs to clarify its core message to each type of visitor, then map out a step-by-step progression through each message.

Those progressions would then form the “spine” of a revised content outline and information architecture for the site. I’m sure some of that thinking has already been done. What’s missing, perhaps, is a process of consolidation.

Key to success in this area is recognizing that perfection is unattainable. As anyone with a narrative must realize, part of the way your listener internalizes your message is by reading between the lines—then unconsciously adding what cultural context and common sense tells them is implied.

You can’t say “it all,” and you shouldn’t try—if you really want your audience to understand.

I’ll have more to say about cause marketing sites in my next post, where I’ll explore ways a specialized use of the marquee area can help—or hinder—the user experience.

[October 2, 2009]

These days you can’t throw a stick without finding someone who thinks our attention span is at an all-time low. While I’m willing to assume this statement is based on scientific data, I suspect that most people who believe it are simply responding to current fashion trends.

After all, how much sexier is it to say “I just don’t have time for that,” than to shut off your iPhone and focus? In our collective heart-of-hearts, most people would rather be known as a diva—someone too busy and bothered and “into it” to sit still and give something their full attention.

But whether we’re talking about scientific fact or cultural artifact, it’s clear your user’s attention span is one thing you must take into account. What’s not clear is how to deal with this insight. How you define the solution depends on how you define “clarity” itself.

On one level, clarity is about directness. Most people would agree that the headline:

Get This Now, it’s Good!

…is very direct. It’s brief, it has a call-to-action and it uses everyday language. But is it enough to grab—and hold—a diva’s attention?

Well, maybe, if the graphic environment it sits in is astonishingly fresh. Of course, that would depend on what “This” and “it’s” refer to. My model headline makes a clear statement, but about what? Is “This” a sports car, a dustmop, a plasma TV or box of adult diapers?

The other problem is with the word “Good,” which, second to “Bad,” is the most relative value of all. In this context, it’s simply an empty claim—and no one will stop downloading Beyoncé to read that. So, I guess I should make my headline more specific:

“This Amazing Carpet Cleaner Removes Tough Blood Stains Fast
(Try it Absolutely Free for 30 Days)!”

Now users will know what I’m talking about—but I’ve painted myself into a corner. While I’ve articulated a key product benefit, I’ve limited its appeal to people who slaughter chickens in the living room.

Defining “clarity” is even harder when we move from words intended to sell a product, to Copy intended to promote a brand. That’s because brands typically have a longer lifecycle than your average Limited Time Offer. When we read “Coca-Cola: Open Happiness,” we tap into something that goes a lot deeper than a bulleted list of product benefits.

In fact, what gives a brand staying power is its ability to have a memorable impact on our lives. Coke is Coke because millions of Americans associate it with good times, family values and wholesome fun.

That didn’t happen over night and certainly not in “5 seconds.” It happened over years, the end result of consistent, long-range planning. Yet, Coke’s value message is so clear, even the busiest divas know it by heart.