Introductory Test

Thank you for visiting this blogsite. I am an independent consultant and will be using these pages to reflect on topics related to business and marketing strategy, some topical and some learned over years of practice. Please visit when you can!

If you are interested in learning how to put these concepts into action for your business or nonprofit organization, I can be reached directly at ctrager (at) verizon.net. And, of course, referrals are always very welcome.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Transitioning the Brand Voice


Brand voice really matters, and changes to brand voice are tricky. Why?

First, let’s have a clear definition. Brand voice is the carefully considered (or established by happenstance, because this also occurs, albeit rarely) tone undertaken by an organization or entity in order to relate to its constituencies and demonstrate its unique and authentic qualities. It is, in essence, a readily identifiable signature. Once set, a brand voice informs word, design, media choices—and, most important, messages and behavior.

If this intimidates you, don’t let it. The antidote to fear is this: your brand voice should be “considered” and not “chosen,” because getting to an authentic brand voice involves more than just you, or you and your team. Great brand voices reflect the voices of external agents. Your customers. Your partners. And people you have yet to meet, but want to.

What happens when you have a brand voice and want a different brand voice? Well, here’s where consideration plays its all-important role.

Take the case of JC Penney. This venerable company startled its customers with an entirely new image in the beginning of 2011. In an effort to compete for 21st century patrons, “JCP” revamped its voice for something hipper and more modern. The emblems of the change included a bold, updated logo, discontinuation of certain clothing lines that the stores had carried for years, and hip new advertising. Bold, updated, hip—but apparently not sufficient to move the Penney needle. In October of this year the company apologized to its loyal customers (!) in this ad and announced that it was “transition[ing] to a more iconic and recognizable design … [to] … give our loyal customers a sure sign that we're still the store they know and love.” Indeed, JC Penney said, “Through recent consumer research, our customers overwhelmingly confirmed their preference for our classic J.C. Penney logo … The classic J.C. Penney logo is familiar, as it is the same logo displayed on most of our stores today, and reignites pride in J.C. Penney and symbolizes the company who has faithfully served communities across America for over 100 years." The clothing lines were also reinstated, and the traditional customers are expected back in droves.

It’s clear that JC Penney was after a fresher image and an expanded customer base, so we can guess that they focused some, or possibly all, of any concept testing they may have done on the desired target demographic. However, what they came up with, however elegant it may have been, was unrecognizable as JC Penney. This surely created some intrigue in the new target market. But equally important, the change was alienating to the loyal customer base. It was too fast, and it was not authentic.  And the customers, who spoke as they always do—with their feet—thereby established the authenticity of the JC Penney, not the JCP, brand.

Brand voice matters because it fosters a relationship. The venerable, 100+ year old JC Penney apparently discounted the importance of the familiar relationship, at least for a period of time. Understand: the change back is surely dictated by economics, but it too is a gamble. One hundred years is a long time to be in business. But people change, cultures change, expectations change. What is reliable today may not be reliable ten years from now.

We can’t predict the future, but we can think about options for transitioning a brand voice without this kind of drama, publicity and expense.

First, determine whether you have an established brand voice—because not every organization really does. If upon candid examination you believe that you’re starting with a relatively clean slate, you may wish to be bolder than what is below suggests.
 

Nevertheless, here are my best practices:

1.     Design the transition. Carefully craft a series of updates over time (2-5 years).  For most of us who don’t have millions to spend, this is very prudent in any case. And not incidentally, name changes should be considered very, very carefully. (See my prior post on this.)

2.     Start with something that just makes good sense. Logo changes also seem to generate a lot of controversy, but they create opportunity if they reflect something that makes obvious sense for the consumer. Here is an example:



      The old JCCs of Greater Boston logo was cumbersome and didn’t leverage the most highly recognizable part of the brand name: JCC. The newer logo is clean, fresh and legible, and signals interesting things to come. The legal name, Jewish Community Centers of Greater Boston, appears elsewhere in the organization’s communications and, where required, along with this logo. (Full disclosure: this was part of one of my own projects.)

3.     Alternatively, start with a targeted campaign rather than a wholesale change. Experiment with the new brand voice, possibly testing it against the traditional in split campaigns. Get data to help you move forward before fully committing.

4.     Leverage the medium most likely to appeal to your new demographic. I am really not one to encourage discontinuity in brand voice, but social media is a great platform for experimenting and provides instant feedback.

Be cautious—but not timid. A sense of balance, with sensitivity to the needs and expectations of all constituents, wins the day.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

The Age of Attention Deficit: Why Positioning Matters -- Notes from FutureM 2013, Day One



It is once again time for FutureM, the Massachusetts Innovation & Technology Exchange (MITX) conference that examines and celebrates the convergence of marketing and technology. I covered FutureM last year with musings about the future of marketing (digital) as so boldly stated by the various conference speakers. This year is actually quite different.

We have clearly passed the point where it’s useful to distinguish between “traditional” and “digital” marketing: as one speaker noted, we live in a mobile world; therefore, all marketing must somehow converge the two. And so it seems that this year we (appropriately) have more questions than answers. From where can we gather meaningful consumer data (the new buzzword: “big data”); if we do so, who should have access to it—and, perhaps most important, what should they do with it? Where will the next big ideas come from?

These are important concerns. To even begin to address them we need to back up to the fundamental question that has mystified, entertained, and stymied marketers forever. It is: what uncomplicated, authentic, rational value proposition will inspire the engagement that we seek? 

Because as Jim Speros, EVP of Fidelity Investments, explained to a packed house, this is an age of constant message bombardment. Although this idea is not especially new, the data on how extensive the bombardment actually is caught me off guard. When technology evolved so that mail could be targeted to specific households, we worried about “cutting through the clutter.” And there were only four “platforms” then: print, broadcast (TV/radio), outdoor, and mail! Now, of course, we have multiple devices, and more coming. Today I saw a talking shoe, and of course Google Glass.

But now, as then, the technology is only as good as the messages it carries. We have less time than ever to make our point to consumers before they must decide whether to move on, and we will have less than that in a year. The attention deficit is inadvertent. Consumers can’t help not having more than a few seconds to share with us. 

And so, of course, we start with the basics. You have to know what you’re on the planet to do; all the creativity flows from there. Are you a beverage company, or an organization that refreshes this world, inspires moments of happiness and optimism, creates value and makes a difference—like Coca Cola? Are you an entertainment conglomerate, or a creator of the most creative, innovative and profitable entertainment experiences and related products in the world, delivering a “seamless” experience of magic—like Disney? Are you a sports team—or have you noticed that modern-day sporting events are both game and experience?

Once you know, the possibilities are endless.

The knowing is called “positioning.” There is a classic positioning formula that has helped many get started (and has been tweaked many times for task forces of all shapes and sizes!). It is some version of this:

To [your potential consumers, defined], [your product or service] is [a category that provides context, like “children’s footwear company”] that [promises something that is compelling from a rational and/or emotional point of view; a promise] because [your proof points, the things that make this so].
If you try this, you may well find that at the end you have something that is interesting—to you. But you also may have the gut sense that it is not emotionally resonant, that nobody else will care. And you will be correct.

Try this instead:

We believe in [something that makes you get up in the morning, like “the health and wellbeing of children”]. Our company creates [what you do, like “high-quality footwear and related products”] in order to ensure that [describe the connection between what you create and what you believe, like “young feet are cared for as they grow”] so that [the outcome you want to see, like “children develop healthy allignment and participate in fun activities with proper support”]. 
The answer to the question, “Where will the next big ideas come from?” is … right here.

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Ask Ambiguous Questions, Get Unreliable Answers



I recently received an email from the Boston Symphony Orchestra, inviting me to participate in an online survey. I’ve been a subscriber for a number of years, but not a patron of the Spring Pops which was the focus. Clearly, the BSO is interested to know something about the crossover between classical music patrons and Pops patrons; for my part, I am always interested to know what survey sponsors want to know and how they ask. So I clicked through to answer the questions.

The surface opportunity of market research is the gathering of information. The research asks questions of the respondents, and they answer. But other opportunities accrue as well. Asking for input creates goodwill. Everyone appreciates being asked. Asking certain types of questions presents the opportunity to prompt consumers to think about what they need, want and value. And, of course, the process can stimulate demand—introduce ideas, products or services that perhaps the respondent has not yet considered, or may have the opportunity to engage with in the future.

I am not remotely trying to suggest that market research is nefarious! Gathering insights and data is vitally important, and incredibly useful. But this leads me to the struggle I had with the questions on this survey.

Basically, the BSO wanted to know what I think of the Boston Pops. I think that the Boston Pops are a fun tradition. I listen to the Fourth of July Esplanade Concert on the radio. I have been to benefit concerts at the Pops. But I have never gone out of my way to attend a concert, because I prefer other kinds of music and pursue those.

So how do I answer the question? If I say that the Pops is “fun” but “not for me,” then am I saying that I’m not fun? If I say that the Pops is “enjoyable” (which it clearly must be, because it’s popular enough to suggest that it’s not tortuous) but “old fashioned” … well, what should an interpreter of this data think? That is, if I don’t attend Pops concerts then on what basis have I decided that the Pops is “fun” and “enjoyable”? I’ll admit it: I got pretty confused. I felt like I wasn’t doing a good job answering the questions. Was I thinking too much?

I have been in most interesting conversations about this very topic relative to the Net Promoter System (NPS). NPS is an index designed by Bain & Company to help organizations understand customer loyalty and compare themselves against others with “efficient growth engines.” Not to get off topic, you can learn more about NPS here

The key NPS question is “How likely is it [that] you would recommend us to a friend?” At the time, the internal version (to measure employee loyalty) was “How likely is it [that] you would recommend this company as a place to work?” In theory, the question was used to measure engagement in the organization, the thought being that happy and productive employees are assets in creating customer loyalty.

Not at all, but not necessarily for the reasons you would think. The feedback was shockingly and disappointingly negative … until one read the comments. They included, “I don’t want to work with my friends.” and “My friends work in other types of businesses.” One can understand this logic, literal-minded as it may be.

So what did the score mean? The creators of NPS may have anticipated and designed around this issue, but the executives of the company in question didn’t know about that. And they didn’t like their score … so they pretty much disregarded it.

As it turns out, a different question has been developed for what is now being called eNPS. It’s “How likely would you be to recommend this company’s products or services to a friend or colleague?”

Isn’t that so much better? What we really want to know, after all, is whether the employee is sufficiently engaged and enthusiastic to be an ambassador—and that’s what this question asks. (Of course, if the friend or colleague isn’t in the market for the products or services, you’re out of luck with the literal-minded!)

When we survey, we need to think hard about the mindset of those we are soliciting. We need to be clear and straightforward, and not clutter people’s minds with possibilities that have no bearing on what we want to know.

No, I will not be attending the Pops … even though I answered that the concerts might be fun (or even enjoyable). But I appreciate the voucher for $25, to be used toward a ticket for a BSO concert in Symphony Hall. That, hands down, has my loyalty.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Quick Thought: Are You Taking Every Opportunity?



I live in the Massachusetts Fifth Congressional District, and therefore have been deluged with mail from the candidates seeking the US House seat vacated by now-US Senator Ed Markey. Of course, I read the literature carefully (that’s my job, right?). I have formed impressions of three of the candidates and am leaning toward one. My decision thus far is based not only on the positions of the candidates, but also on how effectively they are articulating them. I can’t help it—I’m a marketer.

Last evening the telephone rang. I didn’t recognize the number that came up in Caller ID, and against my better judgment I picked up the phone.

“May I speak with Carol Trager, please?”

“Speaking.”

“This is [name] calling from the Committee to [something, not directly the name of a candidate]. We’d like to know if you will be voting for [candidate] in the upcoming election.”

“I am still undecided.”

“OK, thank you.” And the caller hung up the phone.

So many missed opportunities here:

1. To remind me that there is an election coming up.

2. To find out if I intend to vote at all, and make sure I have a way to get to the polls and/or an absentee ballot.

3. To engage me and find out what issues are important to me.

4. To use that information to match my positions to those of the candidate (and mark me for future calls).

5. To offer to answer any questions I have about the election, thereby engaging me (see 2).

6. To explain to me why the candidate is good for me, my district, my state, my country.

7. And, in so doing, to move me from “undecided” to “likely.” At least!

Perhaps it was not the intent of this caller to do any of the above—but if not, why not?

This experience is not likely to move me in any way … but under other circumstances it might have. So ask yourself: Do I take every opportunity to help people understand what I do, and how what I do relates to their lives, their needs?

And if not, why not?