the PERFECT Branding Opportunity
Doesn't make sense? Then just read:
The esteemed Chinese Olympic Committee — you know, our "backward" counterparts from la frontiere Communiste, who couldn't possibly be interested in the Western science of sports-cheating — decided to deep-six the world's swimming records with, lo and behold, physics.
But what would drive them to do that, you might ax yerself, considering everyone in the pool benefits just the same as his or her opponent?
Simple — it doesn't matter who wins that meet, or to be candid, any meet at all. No, neither the flag above the podium nor the national anthem streamed through the crap P.A. afterward is any bit material.
Because no matter what, no matter who wins, to the Beijing Olympics belong the spoils. And I'm not the only one who thinks as such. So reports Howard Berkes of NPR in a recent article:
"It's physics and it's not sports, but it makes sense," says Christine Brennan, a veteran of 13 Olympics and an Olympics columnist for USA Today. "You make a deeper and a wider pool, and you ... give all of those waves and all of that splashing and all of that moving water a chance to move away from the swimmers and get out of their way, which makes them go faster. It's as simple as that."
WOW. More world records? More athletes walking away with more gold medals than previously recorded? Hmmmm, so that means "Beijing 2008" is displayed more times for the rest of Olympic history, across all media, than any marketing/communications budget could EVER afford.
Pretty sneaky, sis.
That means these accounts will populate the Sports Illustrateds of the world, the Almanacs, the history books, and naturally, the next 12 Summer Olympics programs for the remainder of the foreseeable future.
So I'm going with at least 48 years of free publicity (because, let's face it, it's printed historical matter), courtesy of the planet's largest nation, in an exponentially growing population.
All of the sudden, a lightning bolt flashes. This brand strategy — despite your political or athletic proclivities — is absolute BRILLIANCE.
"Let's get ourselves printed in record books throughout eternity by simply deepening and widening a swimming pool." The return on investment is immense.
Fifty years of positive branding? Just add water.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Nothing about branding here.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
So you think your brand is fly

Shopping in Food Emporium in Union Square yesterday, I came upon this, the world's largest fly, poised proudly on the logoed POS signage atop a shelf of nuts.
Yeah, it's New York City in summer, and there's no way a massive grocery retailer like this one can keep every pest from making its way inside. But just look at how perfectly this small pelican is placed on the Emporium's claim as "NYC's Food Authority." It made me laugh, not so much at the incredible size of this juicy bugger, but at the chain itself for its overt hubris in the presence of vermin.
And so, this juxtaposition of pride and pestilence got me thinking. When a brand tells the world how great it is, do we find ourselves rooting harder for it to fail? Do we laugh louder than we normally would at the proverbial fly in their ointment? Do we deny it "wiggle room" in sticky situations over which it truly has no control (i.e., summertime insects inside a huge supermarket)?
Of course we do. Case in point: we disdain self-absorbed celebrities and absolutely LOVE it when they're sent to maximum-security detention centers outside L.A. for their brainless traffic misdeeds.
"Ha-ha," the nation chuckles in unison. "That'll show her to think her #$%@ don't stink."
Well, it DOES stink. Everyone's does. So check your brand's head when you feel it's getting a bit big — it gets a lot harder to keep your balance. And remember, the laugh track is queued up and turned up, ready for the inevitable moment you walk out of the restroom with your fly open.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Might as well face it, you’re addicted to brand
Recently I watched an insightful documentary on the science of drug dependency, which focused primarily on the human brain and its chemical responses to narcotics.
Without delving into the whole discussion of neurotransmitters, dopamine, endorphins, stimulation, and myriad other physiological effects of drugs on nerve cells, it all boiled down (for me, anyway) to one succinct portion of the script:
The brain's GO response only needs a millisecond to render a CHASE mentality. For the drug-dependent, the slightly slower STOP response never gets a chance to activate. Once it’s initiated, this GO response — the “need” state that’s at the very heart of addiction — flies right under the OVERRIDE radar, making the STOP response way too slow to bring about its intended effect.
This process is reinforced by the repeated exposure to that stimulus, after which point the brain begins to exhibit conditioned behavior on top of its heightened physiologic, or neurochemical, stimulation.
In English: If it makes you feel good enough, the STOP chemicals in your brain can’t chase down the more athletic GO chemicals. Do the drug enough and whammo, you’re addicted.
The operative phrase here is “if it makes you feel good enough.” We see all the time what happens when something feels so good to someone that he or she will GO and act irrationally before they have a chance to think and perhaps STOP themselves. Many times it makes no sense, as in the case of the wealthy Houston ex-model who shoplifted her way out of the social scene because she couldn’t “put the brakes on.” She was rich, but she couldn’t help but steal sweaters she could easily afford. It just felt too damned good.
This is where the word “compulsive” comes from, literally, “driven by an irresistible inner force to do something.” Compulsive gambling, shopping, shoplifting, lying, fornicating, skydiving, streaking, eating — you name it. There are some really bizarre addictions out there too, but I’d rather keep this place professional.
Anyway, all of those dependencies have something important in common, both with each other and with the idea of brand. None of those objects or actions are considered "drugs" per se, because the chemicals they abuse are the ones inside all our brains. We don't need to score a bag of cocaine. Rather we're getting high off the “repeated, hedonic response that elicits a GO reaction” by the brain. And that, friends, is an addiction.
I think we’d all agree that garnering this “need” response in our consumers is the ultimate fulfillment of our jobs. But if that’s the truth, I guess it makes me feel sinister — and that it’s no real surprise that people are instinctively resistant to marketing, showing a kind of a deep-seated fear that they’re being remote-controlled by corporate messengers.
As Kevin Roberts, Worldwide CEO of Saatchi & Saatchi, was quoted last year in a BBC Magazine article titled Bonfire of the Brands:
“For great brands to survive, they must create loyalty beyond reason. The secret is the use of mystery, sensuality and intimacy... the power to create long term emotional connections with consumers."
“Loyalty beyond reason,” eh? That first sentence could be pulled straight out of the drug addiction documentary.
Something else explored in this movie is the idea of a “rebound,” or the process of neural activity dropping below its baseline (normal chemical levels) before returning to its original levels, a.k.a., “jonesing.” The drug is the cause of the elation and the depression, but by the time users find this pain unbearable, it's too late. They need more and more to stave off the inevitable pain of the rebound. They're addicted.
In the above-mentioned BBC Magazine article, the author writes:
“I now realise that it's these damn brands that are the source of the pain. For every new status symbol I acquire, for every new extension to my identity that I buy, I lose a piece of myself to the brands. I placed my trust, even some love with these companies, and what have I had in return for my loyalty and my faith? Absolutely nothing. How could they, they're just brands.”
Sounds familiar. You could replace the word “brands” with “blow” or “meth” or “horse” or whatever you want. It’s all the same brain.
As marketers, it’s that very consumer “need” response we’re pursuing — and I guess, to be fair, it seems that finding, purifying, and strengthening this “drug” to give to our audiences has, in effect, become our own addiction.
Without delving into the whole discussion of neurotransmitters, dopamine, endorphins, stimulation, and myriad other physiological effects of drugs on nerve cells, it all boiled down (for me, anyway) to one succinct portion of the script:
The brain's GO response only needs a millisecond to render a CHASE mentality. For the drug-dependent, the slightly slower STOP response never gets a chance to activate. Once it’s initiated, this GO response — the “need” state that’s at the very heart of addiction — flies right under the OVERRIDE radar, making the STOP response way too slow to bring about its intended effect.
This process is reinforced by the repeated exposure to that stimulus, after which point the brain begins to exhibit conditioned behavior on top of its heightened physiologic, or neurochemical, stimulation.
In English: If it makes you feel good enough, the STOP chemicals in your brain can’t chase down the more athletic GO chemicals. Do the drug enough and whammo, you’re addicted.
The operative phrase here is “if it makes you feel good enough.” We see all the time what happens when something feels so good to someone that he or she will GO and act irrationally before they have a chance to think and perhaps STOP themselves. Many times it makes no sense, as in the case of the wealthy Houston ex-model who shoplifted her way out of the social scene because she couldn’t “put the brakes on.” She was rich, but she couldn’t help but steal sweaters she could easily afford. It just felt too damned good.
This is where the word “compulsive” comes from, literally, “driven by an irresistible inner force to do something.” Compulsive gambling, shopping, shoplifting, lying, fornicating, skydiving, streaking, eating — you name it. There are some really bizarre addictions out there too, but I’d rather keep this place professional.
Anyway, all of those dependencies have something important in common, both with each other and with the idea of brand. None of those objects or actions are considered "drugs" per se, because the chemicals they abuse are the ones inside all our brains. We don't need to score a bag of cocaine. Rather we're getting high off the “repeated, hedonic response that elicits a GO reaction” by the brain. And that, friends, is an addiction.
I think we’d all agree that garnering this “need” response in our consumers is the ultimate fulfillment of our jobs. But if that’s the truth, I guess it makes me feel sinister — and that it’s no real surprise that people are instinctively resistant to marketing, showing a kind of a deep-seated fear that they’re being remote-controlled by corporate messengers.
As Kevin Roberts, Worldwide CEO of Saatchi & Saatchi, was quoted last year in a BBC Magazine article titled Bonfire of the Brands:
“For great brands to survive, they must create loyalty beyond reason. The secret is the use of mystery, sensuality and intimacy... the power to create long term emotional connections with consumers."
“Loyalty beyond reason,” eh? That first sentence could be pulled straight out of the drug addiction documentary.
Something else explored in this movie is the idea of a “rebound,” or the process of neural activity dropping below its baseline (normal chemical levels) before returning to its original levels, a.k.a., “jonesing.” The drug is the cause of the elation and the depression, but by the time users find this pain unbearable, it's too late. They need more and more to stave off the inevitable pain of the rebound. They're addicted.
In the above-mentioned BBC Magazine article, the author writes:
“I now realise that it's these damn brands that are the source of the pain. For every new status symbol I acquire, for every new extension to my identity that I buy, I lose a piece of myself to the brands. I placed my trust, even some love with these companies, and what have I had in return for my loyalty and my faith? Absolutely nothing. How could they, they're just brands.”
Sounds familiar. You could replace the word “brands” with “blow” or “meth” or “horse” or whatever you want. It’s all the same brain.
As marketers, it’s that very consumer “need” response we’re pursuing — and I guess, to be fair, it seems that finding, purifying, and strengthening this “drug” to give to our audiences has, in effect, become our own addiction.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Inspi(red), Reve(red), Bo(red), Beleague(red),
and finally, Reti(red)?
I hope this isn’t the case, but it’s my guess that Bono’s new initiative, (RED) — the multi-megabrand co-op which, as the site says, was “Designed to Help Eliminate AIDS in Africa” — was devised with rose-colored lenses obscuring the fickle nature of brands, their audiences, and their life-cycles; and on the next level, overlooking the potential injury to the charitable efforts themselves.
Simply put, brands can get irritating. Brands screw up. Some get good-lucky, others, un-. Once in a while, a brand becomes bigger than life. But all brands age. And most die.
Now, because this brand has so much riding on it, I have to wonder if it’s wise to make a marque out of (read: trivialize, or worse yet, commercialize) a massive philanthropic promise.
Of course (RED) raises awareness for the scourge that is AIDS in Africa. And it’s nice to see global conglomerates kneel to the threat of bad P.R. if they don’t participate, sending what may someday become billions of dollars in relief. At that, I applaud Bono for throwing his weight around to make this all happen. (By the way, don’t you find it sad that it takes a rock-n-roll star, not governments [or hell, average citizens] to make this a reality?)
But I maintain that a multi-brand like (RED) walks on thin ice as a brand every single day. Let’s review the risks:
The above neglects the mention of what’s inevitable for all brands everywhere: fatigue. (RED) is guaranteed to ride the highs and lows that befall every marque that ever existed, and that means that the work of the Global Fund (the world’s largest fundraiser for AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis programs) on the African continent is susceptible to rising and falling along with it, at least on a superficial level, which seems a real shame.
Most certainly, if one life is saved, then it’s all worth it. (And there will be thousands saved because of this effort, I'll bet.) That's not to be argued.
But this is a discussion about brand. I just find myself wondering if wrapping this whole thing in rockstar corporate glossy glam won’t force unintended long-term effects on a daring concept that's trying to solve some of the planet's most elusive health problems.
Was there another, perhaps more surreptitious, way to roll out (RED), รก la Newman's Own, that might have invited discovery on the part of the consumer? I've always believed that, in the vast majority of cases, hype level has an inverse relationship with brand lifespan, and that helping people uncover an experience (in this case, a cause) without a treasure map engenders audience ownership and, usually, loyalty.
Also, I can’t help thinking that the only people who REALLY care about this are Bono, all the wonderful humanitarians who devote their lives to working for the Global Fund, and the sufferers themselves. In recent years, Corporate America has shown its true colors (pun not hugely intended), which makes me want to consider if this won't someday be seen as another "just-add-water" corporate responsibility program for the Fortune 500.
The above may seem cynical, but because such a noble cause like (RED)'s has been “so heavily branded,” one reserves the right to treat it like any other brand.
And therein lies the problem.
I hope this isn’t the case, but it’s my guess that Bono’s new initiative, (RED) — the multi-megabrand co-op which, as the site says, was “Designed to Help Eliminate AIDS in Africa” — was devised with rose-colored lenses obscuring the fickle nature of brands, their audiences, and their life-cycles; and on the next level, overlooking the potential injury to the charitable efforts themselves.
Simply put, brands can get irritating. Brands screw up. Some get good-lucky, others, un-. Once in a while, a brand becomes bigger than life. But all brands age. And most die.
Now, because this brand has so much riding on it, I have to wonder if it’s wise to make a marque out of (read: trivialize, or worse yet, commercialize) a massive philanthropic promise.
Of course (RED) raises awareness for the scourge that is AIDS in Africa. And it’s nice to see global conglomerates kneel to the threat of bad P.R. if they don’t participate, sending what may someday become billions of dollars in relief. At that, I applaud Bono for throwing his weight around to make this all happen. (By the way, don’t you find it sad that it takes a rock-n-roll star, not governments [or hell, average citizens] to make this a reality?)
But I maintain that a multi-brand like (RED) walks on thin ice as a brand every single day. Let’s review the risks:
- Say for argument’s sake that Motorola gets swept up in some giant corporate accounting scandal, or that Apple is exposed for running sweatshops in China. What happens to (RED) then? What happens to one of the other brands, say, Emporio Armani, in the court of public opinion through their association?
- Inversely, what negative equity does GAP inherit if (RED) handles itself with incompetence — or some slimeball somewhere on the money trail from NYC to Ghana is found siphoning cash?
- I know that not every product donating proceeds will be colored red. Nonetheless, remember all the disgusting copycats of the Livestrong bracelet when it launched? How many imitations with ill intent are going to pop up and ruin (RED)’s credibility?
- Shareholders at power-brand Nike — owner of (RED) participant Converse — decide for some reason they no longer wish to be affiliated. Does this whole thing backfire on them, on (RED), on the other participating brands?
- After a few years, it’s found that (RED)’s efforts haven’t worked. Will consumers feel cheated? Will we ever trust another big-name charity again?
The above neglects the mention of what’s inevitable for all brands everywhere: fatigue. (RED) is guaranteed to ride the highs and lows that befall every marque that ever existed, and that means that the work of the Global Fund (the world’s largest fundraiser for AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis programs) on the African continent is susceptible to rising and falling along with it, at least on a superficial level, which seems a real shame.
Most certainly, if one life is saved, then it’s all worth it. (And there will be thousands saved because of this effort, I'll bet.) That's not to be argued.
But this is a discussion about brand. I just find myself wondering if wrapping this whole thing in rockstar corporate glossy glam won’t force unintended long-term effects on a daring concept that's trying to solve some of the planet's most elusive health problems.
Was there another, perhaps more surreptitious, way to roll out (RED), รก la Newman's Own, that might have invited discovery on the part of the consumer? I've always believed that, in the vast majority of cases, hype level has an inverse relationship with brand lifespan, and that helping people uncover an experience (in this case, a cause) without a treasure map engenders audience ownership and, usually, loyalty.
Also, I can’t help thinking that the only people who REALLY care about this are Bono, all the wonderful humanitarians who devote their lives to working for the Global Fund, and the sufferers themselves. In recent years, Corporate America has shown its true colors (pun not hugely intended), which makes me want to consider if this won't someday be seen as another "just-add-water" corporate responsibility program for the Fortune 500.
The above may seem cynical, but because such a noble cause like (RED)'s has been “so heavily branded,” one reserves the right to treat it like any other brand.
And therein lies the problem.
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