“There are a number of common misconceptions and they are often surprisingly damaging to marketing effectiveness – sometimes catastrophically so. Too many marketers, and market researchers, fall for what I call ‘marketing’s attitude problem’. This is where problems about buying behaviour – that is, not enough sales – are recast as brand image problems. So if the problem is ‘how do we encourage more recycling of rubbish?’ it’s recast as ‘how do we get people to care about the environment?’ Many brand plans argue that the reason sales growth hasn’t been as robust as desired is that the brand image is ‘not strong’ – whatever that means – or needs to be ‘updated’, ‘modernised’. The idea is that if we can just get people to see us differently, then sales will go through the roof. In reality, what’s holding back sales is that people hardly think of the brand; it’s seldom noticed, and not fast enough, and it’s difficult to buy. The need for differentiation is a related myth, as is the idea that brands sell to distinctive groups of people, or that it’s beneficial or necessary to target a particular group – and therefore not speak to other buyers.”
“It turns out that, as marketers, we quickly start to lose the perspective of the market as we spend hundreds of days a year inside a company that is launching or managing a product.
We start to think the product is the centre of the world, not the customer that we are designing it for. We begin to assume the claims we make in the advertising are what the customer should care about. We start using dumb verbs like ‘convert’ and ‘educate’ to describe what we will do with our marketing rather than smarter ones like ‘listen’ and ‘serve’.
We go native, and the product cart starts to pull the customer horse. Even though there is a mountain of evidence and precedent that shows that the best way to make money is to find out what the customer is doing and wanting and then design products for them, we start making ‘innovative’ products in a vain attempt to change what they want and how they currently do things.”
“It’s like looking down different ends of a telescope. Clients, naturally, look down the end that magnifies the brand or the product. Until it takes up their whole world. But the consumer is looking down through the other end. Where the brand/product may be a tiny part, if it exists at all.”
Beach use of this misalignment, Ritson describes the first lesson a marketer should learn:
“A good marketer who is well trained will have been schooled in the discipline and will have started their training with extensive exposure to the concept of market orientation. It’s the bedrock theory of marketing and, paraphrasing somewhat, essentially points out that the first rule of marketing is that you are not the market. All your thoughts, feelings and immediate responses to things like advertising, price and packaging are not just incorrect – they are dangerous.
You help produce the product, ergo you are not the consumer of it. Learning to separate your own instinctive thoughts and feelings from the actual insights from real consumers is, literally, the first thing a trained marketer learns to do well.”
Later, Ritson shows how being more market-orientated leads to being more successful:
“We know from groundbreaking work by a host of American academics in the 1980s and 90s that the more market-oriented a manager and the company she works for is, the faster it will grow, the more profit it will make and the more successful its new innovations will be. It turns out knowing you’re not the customer bestows massive marketing advantages.”
Matt Willifer writing for APG:
COG has used neuroscience to identify the six – and only six – fundamental human motivations. That is the real emotional truths that get people to actually do something. If your brand can powerfully play to one of these then you’re in a good place.
- Security: care, trust, closeness, security, warmth
- Enjoyment: relaxation, fun, openness, pleasur
- Excitement: vitality, fun, curiosity, creativity, change
- Adventure: freedom, courage, rebellion, discovery, risk
- Autonomy: pride, success, power, superiority, recognition
- Discipline: precision, order, logic, reason
From an article posted by APG Sweden:
The 1880s was the beginning of systematic sales processes. A company that sold calculating machines, The National Cash Register Co., invented a four-step formula for selling – get attention, provoke interest, create desire, and then get action by closing the sale (“AIDA”). The need to make face-to-face selling more efficient resulted in “salesmanship in print”, a term that would make Lord & Thomas the biggest agency in the world. Advertising was seen as a substitute for face-to-face selling, and as a rational, information-based process, with no room for humour or eccentricity. What is noteworthy was that all this happened before the concept of “marketing” was seen as an activity distinct from sales (the first university marketing course was taught in 1902).
AIDA was the first of many “hierarchy of effects” models. Other models are Daniel Starch’s (1920) read, understood, remembered, and acted upon and Russell Colley’s (1961) awareness, comprehension, conviction, desire and action.
Derek Thompson writing for The Atlantic:
Enrico Fermi was an architect of the atomic bomb, a father of radioactivity research, and a Nobel Prize–winning scientist who contributed to breakthroughs in quantum mechanics and theoretical physics. But in the popular imagination, his name is most commonly associated with one simple, three-word question, originally meant as a throwaway joke to amuse a group of scientists discussing UFOs at the Los Alamos lab in 1950: Where is everybody?
Fermi wasn’t the first person to ask a variant of this question about alien intelligence. But he owns it. The query is known around the world as the Fermi paradox. It’s typically summarized like this: If the universe is unfathomably large, the probability of intelligent alien life seems almost certain. But since the universe is also 14 billion years old, it would seem to afford plenty of time for these beings to make themselves known to humanity. So, well, where is everybody?
“After a century or so of formal study, we still do not know how advertising works! This isn’t the admission of defeat it sounds; advertising is a craft, not a science, and asking how advertising works isn’t like asking how a bicycle works – it’s more like asking “How does literature work?“! Nevertheless, it’s very important to have a good grasp of the general theories that have been advanced and developed over the years, because they must all be part of our ‘mental furniture‘ when we’re defining the role for advertising.
‘Classic’ theories of how advertising works are mainly of the single-model kind; that is, ‘The way advertising works is this way’. These include AIDA (which states that Awareness is necessary and leads to Interest which is necessary before and leads to Desire which is necessary before and to Action); USP (Unique Selling Proposition, which depends on finding a motivating point-of-difference within the product); and Brand Image (which asserts that image is more important in selling a brand than any specific product feature, and that advertising works by ‘adding value‘ to the gestalt).
However, as early as the 1930s it was acknowledged that advertising could work in more than one way, and frameworks began to be constructed. The most enduring from that time is James Webb Young’s ‘Five Ways’ (1963), which says that advertising works:
- By familiarising
- By reminding
- By spreading news
- By overcoming inertias
- By adding a value not in the product
It is very easy to underestimate the value of these observations, and it wasn’t until the 1970s that most of the theory was developed which underpins our thinking today.”
There’s two important points made in this excerpt:
- Advertising is as much an art as it is a science.
- Advertising can work in multiple ways.
Fifty five years after James Web Young defined his ‘Five Ways’ and 21 years after Clemmow wrote this passage, I fear we still have not learnt these lessons.
There is a fragment of wisdom that is often attributed to the Ancient Greek poet Archilochus:
“The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.”
Writing in his essay on Leo Tolstoy, The Hedgehog and the Fox, Isaiah Berlin (pictured) expands Archilochus’ passage into a broad concept of two types of thinkers:
“There exists a great chasm between those, on one side, who relate everything to a single central vision, one system, less or more coherent or articulate, in terms of which they understand, think and feel – a single, universal, organising principle in terms of which alone all that they are and say has significance – and, on the other side, those who pursue many ends, often unrelated and even contradictory, connected, if at all, only in some de facto way, for some psychological or physiological cause, related to no moral or aesthetic principle.”
“Unless you are a fan of Tolstoy—or of flowery prose—you’ll have no particular reason to read Berlin’s essay. But the basic idea is that writers and thinkers can be divided into two broad categories:
- Hedgehogs are type A personalities who believe in Big Ideas—in governing principles about the world that behave as though they were physical laws and undergird virtually every interaction in society. Think Karl Marx and class struggle, or Sigmund Freud and the unconscious. Or Malcolm Gladwell and the “tipping point.”
- Foxes, on the other hand, are scrappy creatures who believe in a plethora of little ideas and in taking a multitude of approaches toward a problem. They tend to be more tolerant of nuance, uncertainty, complexity, and dissenting opinion. If hedgehogs are hunters, always looking out for the big kill, then foxes are gatherers.
Hedgehogs believe in a single, neat, unified approach. Foxes believe in many, messy, disparate approaches.
For the purposes of this paper, we should probably define global as being the approach that starts out with the intention of standardising as much as possible across as wide a geographical area as possible. And international approach would be less ambitious, but would still seek to take a common perspective across markets. A multi-national approach is one where the main thing in common is company ownership, with perhaps just a sharing of insights and information on a co-operative basis.
For the philosopher of technology Luciano Floridi, there have been four recent revolutions in human consciousness. First, Copernicus and Galileo demonstrated that the Earth was not the unique, unmoving center of our universe. Like the other planets, it orbited the sun; and these planets in turn were orbited by their satellites, indifferent to human claims of exceptionalism. Second, Darwin showed us humanity not as the fixed pinnacle of a hierarchical creation, but as one among countless lifeforms produced by blind selection. Third, Freud suggested that we are far from transparent even to ourselves – that our self-knowledge is at best tenuous and provisional.
Each of these revolutions is in a sense a demotion: a revision downwards of our place in the order of things. We are neither the lords of creation nor even masters of our own minds. What’s next to lose? The fourth revolution, Floridi suggests, is one in which we must surrender our claim to be the universe’s sole site of analysis and insight. Our creations approach or exceed our capabilities in areas long believed to be uniquely human: deduction, recall, reasoning, pattern recognition, the processing of language, the modelling and prediction of the world.