A day in the life of Harvey & Gilmot

Entries from August 2009

Sexy Executives, oh yeah.

August 29, 2009 · Leave a Comment

God Bless those who spend hours making fun of people they don’t know on the basis of unfortunate corporate profile photos.  God Bless sexyexecutives.

 

Carol Kroch - Head of Wealth and Financial Planning, Wilmington Trust Wealth

Carol Kroch - Head of Wealth and Financial Planning, Wilmington Trust Wealth

Categories: Diversion
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Public notices, the NZRU and authenticity

August 28, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Here’s where I test myself. I said the other day that I wanted to get better at just sharing thoughts on this blog, not taking so much time to think through the logic and trying to avoid that situation (that I fear awfully) of giving a point of view and then realising in short order that I had it completely wrong. So here goes.

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I saw this in today’s Herald. I wondered what possesses a man to take out a public notice to share his anger with the NZRU. And my guess is there are two motivations and they both go to a bigger issue that’s important for New Zealand right now.

Let’s just accept that rugby matters a little too much to many New Zealanders. I’m one of them. I accept that my emotional fragility is too easily exposed by rugby – by our World Cup collapses, the righteous resurgence of the mighty Hawkes Bay, and my continuing bewilderment that Shayne Philpott could ever have been picked for the All Blacks.

But as so many before have noted it matters to us so much because rugby has always preserved a great deal of what we admire about our country and its view of (and place in) the world – its egalitarianism, its sense of community, its applause for those that take part (and three cheers for the ref). I’ve always liked that rugby felt a generational step slower, so that as society-at-large moved on, rugby held back a step, onside behind the last man’s feet, preserving the values we admired for just a wee bit longer. We had a rugby fraternity that was driven by preservation, its primary motivation being to hold on to what mattered, to preserve the game for all, not to constantly push an agenda of change and it’s ugly locking-partner, development.

What we have now is a rugby fraternity driven by progression, the drive to lead, to advance, to be at the forefront of development in the game. Which is an understandable position to take if you assume that being the most progressive will make you the best team in the world, and that being the best team in the world is the goal that matters most. But all evidence suggests that neither of those things are true.

We used to be the proudest rugby nation in the world, the nation to whom the game mattered most and who gave the most to the game. I guess it’s a logical corollary that being the best team in the world should therefore be our measure, so all our energy as a rugby fraternity should go into being the best (measured by winning the World Cup). But being the proudest and being the best are patently not the same thing.

We were the arguably the proudest rugby nation in the world before the World Cup existed, simply because we loved the game, it mattered to our schools, our communities, our provinces and, a handful of times a year, to us all united, parochialism set aside, through the All Blacks. It was the active participation of everyone, aligned to a pride in the way that game was played, that made us the proudest rugby nation in the world.

But in our pursuit of being the best we’ve given away what made us the proudest and now, sadly, we’re neither.

The other frustration I detect in Bruce Lochore’s public notice is the distance at which the NZRU now operates. It’s become a Corporate, as seemingly befits the entity that runs what has become one of New Zealand’s most high-profile industries. But it does feel like the NZRU’s taking the corporate thing just a little too seriously, doesn’t it? It’s easy to make the criticism, but I just feel that the NZRU’s embrace of ‘strategic pillars’, ‘objectives aligned to the vision’ and the ‘genesis and launch of a new vision for rugby in New Zealand’ don’t feel natural. It feels like we, or they, are pretending to be something we’re not.

(As an amusing aside check out this page from the NZRU’s website outlining its strategy. Under the Vision heading it establishes that it’s working to build ‘Wining’ All Blacks. (Since I wrote this, and alerted the NZRU, they’ve corrected the mistake. I have to admit I wish I hadn’t told them.) You can read too much into these things but if you’re going to set about building a winning team, one of the first things to focus on is actually being able to spell ‘winning’.)

It’s the pretending bit that’s got me wound up. I just feel that the way the NZRU operates, as manifested by the decision to reduce the number of sides in the NPC is completely inauthentic. And it’s not being authentic that ties together all that has been so frustrating about New Zealand rugby over so many years. It’s what links front-rows painted on planes, to John Mitchell’s psycho-babble, to All Blacks being rested from provincial duty to constant tinkering with domestic competitions. It just not authentic. It’s contrived, it’s artificial and it’s motivated by a misplaced belief in the value of all things progressive. It also has a dreadful feel of play-acting about it, of an organisation trying desperately to give the appearance of being grown-up and sophisticated, revelling in working groups and streamlining initiatives and building more effective structures.

Because if there’s one thing that defines New Zealand it’s authenticity. When we do great things it comes from the confidence of doing what’s right and natural. When we reject nuclear powered vessels or refuse to send combat troops to Iraq we do it motivated by doing what’s right. It’s authentic and genuine. Flight of the Conchords and Whale Rider? Authentic and genuine. 42 Below and Icebreaker? Authentic and genuine. Valerie Vili and Rob Waddell? Authentic and genuine.

Easily the most ‘New Zealand’ thing I’ve seen in the last 12 months was Rob Fyfe’s reaction to the Air New Zealand crash in France. I nearly wrote ‘handling’ of the crash in France, but actually that’s my point. He didn’t handle it. He reacted to it, in the most authentic and genuine way. And I believe most New Zealanders admire him enormously for doing so.

It’s the lack of authenticity in rugby that causes the NZRU to remove teams from the NPC, and it’s what motivates people like Bruce Lochore to resort to Public Notices to try and get the attention of a distant, misguided NZRU.

And that’s the real issue here. It’s authenticity that matters.  It’s nothing more complicated than being honest and genuine, of being true to ourselves. And my romantic recollection is that rugby used to be close to the truest expression of who we are, and what rightly angers people like Bruce is that we can’t really say that anymore.

Categories: Diversion · Sport
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Art meets maths

August 27, 2009 · 1 Comment

Great images from Nikki Graziano. She’s an artist and a mathematician.  (I tried very hard to resist suggesting that must make her a marthematician.)

I like these a lot.  I realise it’s not a literal interpretation, but it says something interesting about the complexity of things that seem so simple and natural.

Really nice website, too.

Categories: Diversion
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This is why I find research frustrating.

August 25, 2009 · 1 Comment

I might as well just state my case upfront.  I find most of the marketing research I’m exposed to massively frustrating.  It’s not because I don’t value research or that I see it as a handbrake on the creative process. My issue is that in most cases what I see is research that tries too hard to deliver significant insight.

The logic is simple.  As a marketer you undertake research with the goal of uncovering something substantial – something that delivers competitive advantage and value. No researcher wants to complete a research project and report that they didn’t uncover anything particularly interesting.  So no researcher ever does.

Those commissioning the research are looking for ‘insight’. But what if the research doesn’t yield an insight? The simple solution is to find a mildly interesting learning from the research and draw a grand conclusion from it. Which is why the majority of research ‘insights’ are nothing more than churched-up observations.

Which is what got me interested in a story headlined – “No comfort in comfort foods during tough economic times”.

On the surface it looks interesting, but closer investigation suggests that the sweeping, generalised conclusions being reported bear very little resemblance to the substance of the research.

This research supposedly demonstrates that, contrary to popular belief, during times of upheaval we don’t gravitate to the old and familiar, but instead show increased propensity to experiment and try new things.  I thought this was interesting. It certainly runs counter to my own experience.

It was referred to as the ‘comfort food fallacy’ effect. I imagined the research might highlight that during a period of significant personal upheaval (such as a goodly proportion of the western world is currently experiencing) we might find ourselves dismissing Macaroni Cheese like mother used to make in favour of, say, Black Cod with Fennel Chowder and Smoked Oyster Panzanella.

As a marketer I would find that interesting. More importantly, I would find that useful, the kind of insight that might guide my decision making and lead me down a path of new product development and marketing focus.

But that’s not what the research revealed at all. What the research actually tested was this:

‘In a prediction study, participants were told about a person who was described either as being in a very stable life situation or in the midst of many changes. Participants were then asked to predict whether this person would choose either a highly familiar or unfamiliar version of a similar snack (a very popular and well-liked American potato chip in familiar flavors or an unknown British potato “crisp” in exotic flavors like Camembert and Plum). Participants predicted that the stable person would choose the exotic unfamiliar crisp and the person in a state of change would choose the familiar chip. They explained their predictions by saying that the stable person would have more time and energy to try new things and the person experiencing change would be more interested in choosing a known or “sure thing” option. However, in a separate choice study, participants were asked to rate the level of change and upheaval in their own lives and then, in a later task, given the opportunity to choose either the familiar American chip or the unfamiliar British crisp. Opposite to the predictions, participants who were experiencing more change were less likely to choose the old familiar favorite and more likely to choose the new and unfamiliar option.’

The important point seems to be that they’re still eating chips.  To choose a camembert-flavoured chip over a potato chip does not suggest to me an overwhelming interest in experimentation and trying new things.  It certainly doesn’t suggest anything like a move away from comfort food or the extrapolated conclusion that during these challenging times there exists an unexpected societal embrace of significant behavioural change.  It doesn’t make a fallacy of the belief that people like comfort food in uncomfortable times.  These people are still eating chips and chips are still comfort food whether plain, plum or placenta flavoured.

(As a sideline, I was also amused that participants explained their prediction that the stable person would choose the exotic and unfamiliar crisp by noting that ‘the stable person would have more time and energy to try new things’.  Now, chips may be many things (tasty, moreish and devilishly bad for you being three) but they’re not really time-consuming or physically draining, are they?  I have never turned down an opportunity to sample a new chip on the basis that I simply couldn’t find a window in my diary or summon the physical reserves to attack a handful.)

The research went on.

“Wood’s study went beyond comfort foods and looked at “familiar anything.” When individuals in her study were in more upheaval, they were more likely to download an unfamiliar song or jog in a new park”.

They’re not exactly dramatic changes in behaviour, are they? Not really significant leaps into the unfamiliar. The same people are still listening to music and they’re still jogging.  The upheaval in their lives hasn’t caused them to swap their interest in music for weekend fox-hunting, or exchange their regular jog for evening crunk classes.

Again, my problem isn’t actually with the research.  It’s with the headlines used to summarise the research, the insight supposedly uncovered, and the conclusion therefore drawn.

“No comfort in comfort foods during tough economic times, study finds”

“Common connection between comfort food and crisis debunked”

“Comfort foods are not too comforting in poor economy”

Those conclusions are massive, completely unrealistic leaps from the evidence at hand. “Common connection between comfort food and crisis debunked” is the headline, but it’s not the reality.  They were still eating chips. Nothing was debunked.

My frustration is that you can just see how this unfolds.  Somewhere a marketing director is briefing her team. The product development team are being told to develop a product that reflects the average person’s desire to be much more experimental in times of hardship or stress (which was, of course, the insight from the research).  Then a brand manager will be told to develop a launch programme for this product, remembering that the research told us to focus on the fact that people don’t want comfort food during difficult times, but instead want to experiment.  Then an agency will get a brief to develop a campaign focused on the proven desire of people to embrace new things as a direct reaction to challenging times.

All of which is a massive leap from what the research actually highlighted, doomed to failure, likely to cost the business a lot of money, will probably get the agency fired, and all, absurdly, the direct result of someone choosing a camembert flavoured chip when in the presence of a researcher searching desperately for an insight.

And that’s why I find research frustrating.

Categories: Advertising · Marketing · Research
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Please can we kill the media-neutral idea?

August 20, 2009 · 3 Comments

There are a number of words I hate.

‘Special’ is one.  As in ‘it was such a special time’. Or the even more kidney-punchingly awful ‘he’s a very special person’.  (It always puts me in mind of the ‘Special Olympics’. Not, as I imagine it, a gathering of inspiring individuals who achieve remarkable athletic feats despite considerable physical handicap, but instead a series of events in which insipid, conspicuously-lovely people, compete to see who can lend the most compassionate ear, or arrange the most fetching bunch of flowers from a selection they’ve picked themselves, or (and this is the 100m of the Special Olympics) the event in which people take an elderly person they’re not even related to for an outing to the park on a sunny afternoon. Now that’s special.)

I now add to this list ‘media-neutral’.  Not a word, I acknowledge, but a concept I hate. I can’t bear the phrase and its spectacular overuse (I also hate its intellectual, been-to-university cousin, ‘media-agnostic’).  I really dislike the convenience of it, in that it describes an idea that can be applied equally well (or badly) across all media.  You might as well call ideas media-ambivalent and be done with it.

I propose it be replaced, first as a phrase, but more importantly as a concept.

We don’t need media-neutral ideas. We need ideas that are brilliant because of their application through individual media, not independently of those media. Our goal should be media that makes the idea better, and ideas that make the media better. That’s the exact opposite of neutral.

Neutrality’s not a positive concept. It’s the absence of an opinion, sitting on the fence and having a dollar each way.  That’s no state for an idea to be in.

I want enthusiasm, commitment, a stake in the ground and a flag run up a pole. I want an idea that wants to be something and a media that helps it do it.

The idea of media-neutrality just reinforces the artificial and unhealthy separation of idea and application.  We’ve grappled with this for years and need to acknowledge, again, that the two must be inextricably linked.  An idea only has value when it’s brought to life through media, and it’s got that much more value when the media is central to the idea.  It’s the convenient, artificial distinction between the two that annoys me so much about media-neutrality.

Ideas aren’t media-neutral in the same way that clothes aren’t people-neutral. Ideas become brilliant when brought to life in the right way through the right media on the right occasion.  Clothes become brilliant when worn in the right way by the right people on the right occasion.  But clothes don’t get designed neutrally.  They get designed with people and occasions central to the design process because that’s how they will get worn, just as ideas should be developed with media central to the creative process because that’s how they get consumed.  The idea just can’t be neutral.

So I propose a change.

Let’s move on from the negative start-point.  Neutrality takes what is potentially a great idea and drags it down with ambivalence. How much better to talk about an idea that’s media-positive? Or better yet, an idea that’s media-exuberant? Doesn’t that do a better job of describing an idea that is going to be made brilliant by its smart application through media? And not just any media, but very specific media that sit at the heart of the idea itself.

I want never again to describe an idea as media-neutral. In fact I want never again to see an idea that is media-neutral.  I want to see ideas that are great because of the opportunity that their media presents.  I want excitement and possibility to characterise the marriage of media and idea. I want ideas that are media-exuberant.

Categories: Advertising · Marketing · Media
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A few Twitter issues

August 20, 2009 · 2 Comments

There are a number Twitter-centric issues that have been vexing me.

I’m really struggling with using it. At an emotional level I feel like there’s something good and vibrant and connected and ultimately useful about Twitter, but I just can’t get comfortable using it. So I kind of blunder my way along, my enthusiasm ebbing and flowing.

I thought for a while that the issue was with the need for concision. Brevity is not, as many have observed, my strong suit. But I’m not sure it’s that, because while it might take me a while to get to a point, I like the point.

I’m starting to think the issue is more about the need for it to be off the cuff. A tweet feels like it should be a bit throwaway. What I struggle with is just throwing an idea out there without having thought it through. I’m probably one of the few people who feels the need to draft a tweet.

(This is a real problem for me with blogging, too. I really want to post more often, but I don’t really feel comfortable just throwing something out knowing that I might not agree with myself in a few days. So, and I beg your indulgence here, I’m going to force myself to spend the next week just writing stuff down and posting it. If it doesn’t make sense later, I’ll claim that my cat got on the keyboard, padded back and forth, and by remarkable coincidence churned out a couple of posts that resembled something I might write, only I didn’t write them, the cat did.)

Anyway, back to Twitter.

I had a meeting with a client the other day who was talking about wanting to get a brand ‘involved with Twitter, but I need to be confident we’re going to get a return’. I asked what kind of return he was after and he said ‘financial’ (accompanied by a withering look that asked “what other kind is there?”). Which led to an interesting discussion about conversations.

The role of Twitter for that client is really a kind of elaborate chat-up line. They have a brand people recognise, but that isn’t particularly approachable. Which makes buying from it difficult. So we talked about the courtship process, and how Twitter could represent the first tentative contact, a noncommittal testing of the waters, before, hopefully, a courtship that might take someone from Twitter through a website, a promotion, into store and finally a purchase. So we agreed that if Twitter offers a return it’s about getting to first base. It’s brand hand-holding.

Which then got me thinking about my own Twitter reticence. And my conclusion is that I’m thinking about it far too hard. Maybe a tweet is best seen as an opening conversational gambit, thrown out there for anyone to pick up. If it’s interesting they will. If it’s not, they won’t. In ten minutes it’s gone, and the conversation’s moved on in a more interesting direction. There’s not much value in the tweet, just like there’s not much value in the start of a conversation. But there’s potentially massive value in the body of a conversation and it’s conclusion.

The first words I said to my now wife were “I’m sorry, I seem to be sitting in your chair”. (I really was sitting in it. It wasn’t some kind of David Copperfield illusion where I just seemed to be sitting in it while actually standing atop an elaborately curtained plinth 30 feet away.)

The start to our conversation was utterly inconsequential, just like the vast majority of tweets. But it started a conversation that proved to be enormously important. So I need to stop thinking about Twitter as being about tweets. The value of Twitter is the conversations that grow from them.

Categories: Advertising · Marketing · Media
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The most depressingly, maybe inspiringly, true thing I’ve heard in a while

August 19, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Trey Parker and Matt Stone animate small portion of a lecture from Alan Watts.

Categories: Diversion
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I want these.

August 18, 2009 · Leave a Comment

music-cage-by-nendo_03

Wireless ‘birdcage’ speakers, designed by the Japanese company Nendo. I’ve no idea what they sound like, but they look fantastic. They plug into a wall socket and are either ceiling or stand mounted.

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music-cage-by-nendo_02

Categories: Music
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Cheap is the enemy of craft

August 17, 2009 · Leave a Comment

I’ve been thinking more about yesterday’s post regarding our appetite for cheap.

Cheap is the natural enemy of craft. Our flight to cheap has diminished our respect for things that are well-made, considered and handcrafted. Craft has become synonymous with indulgence.

Nowhere is this more true than the advertising industry. The devaluing of craft in our business has been horrifying.

Like pretty much everything else the expectation is that advertising should be cheap – the process of developing it and the process of producing it.  The application of craft is considered a shameful and wasteful indulgence.  Try asking a client to pay for something to be done really well.  I’ll bet you good money that the response will be that if you think it can be done better then you go right ahead…. but I’m not paying for it.  And it’s bloody hard to argue when the client’s dealing with exactly the same thing. Their customers won’t pay more for quality either, because they’ve been trained not to.

This is what happens in a world in which everything can be done cheaper.  Make it in China. Source it from India. Add some palm oil. Use one coat of paint. Fuse it don’t stitch it. Don’t have an account manager.  Use an existing typeface. Find a stock shot.

It’s the only point at which I have genuine sympathy for some of the scam work I see. On the one hand it really frustrates me that we resort to fictional clients to demonstrate what it is that we’re capable of, but on the other hand I see it as often the only way we get to do something properly. It’s the advertising equivalent of tinkering in sheds. It’s where the concours quality work is done.  Scam is becoming the last bastion of craft in our industry.

What we’re witnessing is the destruction of craft, because as a society we’ve come to regard craft as an extravagance.  It’s an unnecessary indulgence because something better than OK is better than it needs to be.

And so I say enough. In five years time I want to be able to look at a house less-full.  Once a year I’m going to have something made.  Something with a real person’s signature all over it.  I think a picture frame to start, made from scratch by a person who’s had training.  I’m going to take their advice on how it should be done and I’m going to pay what they say it’s worth.

I’m going to strike a blow for craft and for advertising.

Categories: Advertising · Marketing
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No explanation required

August 17, 2009 · Leave a Comment

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I bet you cannot look at this and not smile.

Categories: Advertising
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