Campaign Marketing 2016: Donald Trump's Big Bet

Already the postmortems are out there, and marketers are busily analyzing and spinning along with the best of them. There is already a host of articles about how the president-elect successfully built on his brand as a key factor in the election win. Certainly he did. On the other hand, we cannot forget that there were two winners in this election. One, Mr. Trump, captured the Electoral College. The other, Secretary Clinton, captured the popular vote. What happened? This is a constitutional question and not in the purview of marketing. However, we certainly can ask: what went wrong?

The demographics and psychographics first.

In a nutshell, both parties lost sight of (or perhaps felt helpless to respond to) substantive demographic changes in their bases. Sociologists and political scientists have pretty convincingly explained that the Democrat Party, once the party of the so-called “working class,” has become the party of a new, mostly liberal professional class. They argue that as this new class has emerged the Democrats have neglected their roots. At the same time the Republican Party, the party of the so-called “elite,” has more or less retained that constituency while the “working class” has drifted, if not fled, in their direction. It’s hard to believe that these changes were not adequately attended to—but they were not.

The parties, and the Democrats especially, also missed a swell of attitudinal shifts. The newly ensconced professional class has grown up with women in its midst and assumed that an exceptionally qualified leader who happened to be a woman would be acceptable to all. This class has also enjoyed relative prosperity; the Democrats assumed that an extension of their experience would have wide appeal—even as their presumptive candidate was forced to fight an unexpectedly strong challenge from a self-identified Socialist, Bernie Sanders. On the other side more moderate Republicans, and even the most conservative of the bunch, looked on in disbelief as they were forced to fight a candidate with no actual political experience.

Both of these challengers were written off, but one of them is now president-elect. On the face of it, the two have a lot in common. Although Sanders has spent most of his life in the political sphere, he was able to position himself as an outsider and champion of social and economic equality. Trump was clearly an outsider and was able to further position himself as a successful businessperson —a deal-maker and a “winner”—who could be counted upon to bring his talents to bear on the issues of concern to the country’s most disenfranchised voters.

This is not to imply that a Sanders-Trump match-up would have had a different outcome. Although the polls suggested it, there is no way to know if they were accurate. After all, as it turns out, the polls also missed cues and incorrectly predicted the election winner.

Now, the post-election brand conversation has been primarily a Clinton-Trump one, but that feels easy. “Make America Great Again” is an active challenge; it implies promise; it evokes nostalgia. “She’ll Fight For You,” Stronger Together” and “I’m With Her” are slogans and only that. Two of the three are puzzlingly self-referential. Ironically, given the strength of Secretary Clinton’s qualifications, they don’t inspire a sense of fortitude; of leadership; of vision. They don’t hold out for “Hope” as Barack Obama’s did. If brand promises alone carried elections, we could have predicted a Trump win 16 months ago.

But what about “Make America Great Again” and Bernie Sanders’s campaign slogan “A Future to Believe in”? The Sanders brand voice has two of the essential elements we find in Trump’s: it challenges; it implies promise. It then takes a different turn: it hails a new path that doesn’t evoke nostalgia.

Like Trump, Sanders spoke to a constituency looking for something better, more interesting, more compelling, than the present. This constituency was sufficiently large and strong to prolong the Democrat nomination process far beyond what anyone would have thought. The Clinton campaign then vowed to incorporate some of the Sanders ideals and principles into the platform, but they failed to consider the appeal of his message.

And here’s where the genius of the Republican campaign comes in. Donald Trump identified a substantial, neglected and angry constituency. This was, he knew, a voting bloc that would be attracted to a candidate promising to restore a worldview—their worldview. He knew that they had confidence in a past they could believe in. This is not just a nostalgia play; it is a message for people who identify with the literal and the concrete. Trump made a bet that this constituency would overlook his lack of political experience and acumen to get that. Aside from the branding considerations, he also bet that the bloc would be large enough, with sufficient geographic representation, to get him the win.

His victory reinforces a key principle of effective marketing: customer first. When we make assumptions about consumers’ wants and needs, when we don’t hear what they are saying, we may make the correct guesses and succeed. But on the other hand, we may be wrong.

Which leads us to the essential question, the most critical one where a brand is concerned: will the candidate make good on his promises? Because none of this will matter to his constituency unless he does.

 

Is Your Value Proposition Aligned with Your Customers' Values?

There are many stories of organizations utterly committed to a particular value proposition, confident in their knowledge of their constituents and highly disciplined in how and what they communicate about themselves. So what makes these organizations engage branding consultants?

In most cases, the answer is simple: lack of results. Something doesn’t resonate, doesn’t bring the leads, inquiries, closes. This problem is most often understood as the consequence of lack of awareness. “If they knew about us, they would be interested,” our clients say. Or, “If they understood that they had a problem, they would see us as the solution.”

These assertions may be accurate; in fact, they generally are accurate. Few organizations have sufficient resources to generate all of the awareness they need. And those on the cutting edge of an industry certainly experience the challenge of generating demand for something that hasn’t existed prior.

Branding solves the first problem, lack of awareness, on a tangent. Great branding doesn’t create awareness. It stands out and differentiates, however much or little the organization has to spend on awareness-generating activity.

By the same token, great branding can speak to something the target market already knows, and turn an assumption or belief on its ear to generate a new insight and lead to a new action.

What makes this all occur?

One simple thing: the ability to learn from the customer himself. Time and again, customer research has revealed to us unexpected deviance from closely held beliefs. The single-sex school learns that its constituents truly value this aspect of their education—or not. The technology company whose core product is envisioned to support online collaboration hears from its users that they want better print drivers. The consumer goods manufacturer discovers that its “secret ingredient” is most compelling when that ingredient’s identity is front and center—because there is fundamental dissatisfaction with competitive products in the category.

Market research can be simple or complex. Much depends on the circumstances. But first and foremost: market insight is essential. It doesn’t come from sales alone; it doesn’t come from anecdotes alone. Market insight comes from eagerness to engage and willingness to see beyond one’s own assumptions. With market insight in hand, the organization can make informed decisions about how it wants to present itself—how to wrap its own value proposition around its constituents’ values.

   

Is It Good Enough to Play to Your Strengths?

Earlier this week we saw the final episode of “Ellen’s Design Challenge,” the new HGTV show in which six talented furniture designers compete in a series of design and construction elimination contests. I am not endorsing the show, which in its first season had its moments but could use some refining; however, it was interesting and fun to see the designers and carpenters work together and create some extremely impressive pieces.

As someone working in a creative field, however, I do feel compelled to comment on the ending of the show. If you didn’t see it, in the final episode the judges had narrowed the field to two designers, and chose the winner. However, a week later—prior to the show being aired, and thanks to an “anonymous tip”—it was discovered that the winner’s final entry looked similar to a piece designed by someone else not on the show. With a terse statement that the winner had “not met the requirements” of the challenge, the network disqualified him and awarded the $100,000 prize to the runner-up.

I don’t know if the winner had ever seen this other piece. I do know, however, that creative people take cues from a lot of sources, and I find that very defensible. Picasso himself once suggested that “good artists borrow, great artists steal.” I’m not remotely suggesting that the winner stole someone else’s ideas; rather, that this is a complex topic and one that deserves more consideration than it seems to have received. I assume this is why the network has been so interestingly close-mouthed about what occurred, while viewers everywhere have been taking the show to task for the decision and for their treatment of the original winner.

Anyway, in their deliberations the judges spoke at length about the differences between the designers—he, a seasoned pro with a very particular style and a very niche market for it; she, a somewhat younger designer whose work was considered more eclectic. They talked approvingly about her willingness to push herself in many directions. They talked admiringly about his proficiency and strong sense of himself and his work.

And then one of the judges characterized the seasoned designer as someone prone to “retreating to what’s comfortable.”

There is a video of this conversation online, but the potentially most interesting comment was edited out. Which is this: another judge said, in defense of the seasoned designer, something to the effect of, “There’s nothing wrong with knowing whom you are, knowing your strengths, and going with them.”

We are living in a world where expectations of knowledge workers, and marketers are no exception, are changing. Certain proficiencies are foregone conclusions; certain proclivities are valued over others. As a more “seasoned” type, I watch this with some amusement and some sadness.

Is going to what one knows, trusts and has found success with really “retreating?” What does this mean? Consultants, for example, are hired for expertise, which is developed over time. Most of us have a set of core beliefs, processes and practices upon which we rely. That is the value that we bring to our clients.

[On the other hand, there are a bunch of “truisms” in marketing that are exhausted and no longer useful. Deferring time and again to certain media (does every single thing one does require a print piece in the age of the Web?), phrases (“with the click of a mouse” being my favorite), or characteristics of populations of any kind signals a lack of real-world context.]

One of my most esteemed colleagues recently opted out of the job market, saying that he wasn’t comfortable in the social media world, didn’t really believe in it, and felt that nobody would take him seriously as a marketer without that skill set. He knows who he is, knows what he can do, and even knows its value. But he no longer has confidence that others will value it equally. This is worse than retreat. It is defeat.

Everyone, and certainly every worker in a creative field, assembles a toolbox of references. Some are consciously developed, and some are derived from observation consciously and unconsciously. In any case, the toolbox represents the assets that allow us to engage, discover, diagnose, and contribute our ideas.

Creative people understand, of course, that tools must be carefully maintained. They need to be adjusted, burnished, polished and sharpened. And, they need to be complemented and enhanced with new tools and references that make practice all the more rewarding, and the results of the work richer and more relevant over time.

If the designer in question had no original ideas, no unique vision, no contribution of a particular sensibility and expertise, then I would agree with the characterization of “retreat.” But, win or lose, everyone agreed that he had all of those things. And I would argue that it is precisely the existence of his references that make his work so special.

It’s not a question of retreat. It’s one of having built a strong foundation on which to grow.

We're All the Customer Experience

This post is adapted from a Facebook reflection that I wrote on December 21, 2014.

Gentle lessons in humility occur at the most surprising moments!

A few days before Christmas I braved the crowds in Target to get something relatively inconsequential (please don't ask me why I did this), but in doing so I passed through the aisles (and aisles. and aisles.) of Christmas decorations, wrapping paper, cards, etc. I happened to notice an employee attempting to organize the gift bags, and I also noted that the paper plate and napkin display was a shambles. Something about this (my penchant for order? my distaste for chaos? my sympathy for a young person doing her best against what would turn out to be significant odds?) inspired me to offer to help. So with her somewhat disbelieving assent, I put down my things and organized the plates and napkins. 

It took ONE HOUR. As I was doing it I found an opened battery package with the batteries missing (of course), a bag of Starbucks coffee, something made of glass, and all manner of related and unrelated items. I watched a woman roll her cart right over a package of plates that had fallen on the floor. And I watched a woman pick out a package of napkins from one of my displays, look at it, and toss it back on the shelf.

Her husband looked at me and said, "You're trying to clean this up and we're just messing it up again." So I just smiled, as the Target employee kept on doing. But here's what I was thinking: 

1. This is an interesting way to get qualified for a job. I got offered one on the spot!

Customer experience is something we read about and talk about. Designing robust and meaningful customer experiences is part of my job. Yet here was something I hadn’t considered.

2. Behind every customer experience is a chain that starts (or ends) with a product that is on the shelf. But every day and night, people like the Target employee I helped have the experience of how we treat that product AND our regard, or disregard, for their time and effort in stocking and displaying it. 

So, in fact, customer experience should not the job of the provider alone. We all have the ability, or responsibility, to contribute to a good one. Do you cheer at a sporting event? You are part of the experience. Do you dance at a wedding? You’re adding to the general sense of joy and celebration. Do you put the napkins back? You’re making it possible for someone else to find and enjoy them. And for a store employee to do something more productive.

In general, I am good about this ... but I'm sure that I can do better. And I hope that, if you have never considered this before, you will do the same.

Case Study: Winning Friends and Influencing Customers and Prospects

Hello, I'm back!

This week the Boston Globe ran a piece on a local restaurant that had been essentially charged with defrauding the public because the prices on its website had not been updated to match the prices actually being charged for takeout food. The complaint, over $4, was made by a very established consultant, Ben Edelman,who is known for his advocacy in "cleaning up" the Internet (actually, to put a fine point on it, the Web).

The article is long and not the point, but here it is if you care to read it.

As seems to happen more and more, this blew up and became one of the trending topics of the day in Boston (and apparently elsewhere, as we shall see). One of the more interesting articles about it suggests that "The irony here, of course, is that Edelman’s work is all about protecting online consumers — the little guy — from big businesses. He’s taken Google to task for continuing to track users who have disabled the search behemoth’s browser toolbar; he’s fought against spyware; he’s battled Facebook’s efforts to reveal user data to advertisers. In some ways, his e-mail battle with Duan is of a piece with his other work: 'Your restaurant overcharged all customers who viewed the website and placed a telephone order — the standard way to order takeout,' he wrote at one point. Replace 'restaurant' with another type of business — or, heck, even an online food-delivery service like Foodler or Seamless — and this exchange could be straight out of his professional e-mail archives. He’s the consumer; he’s, in a sense, the little guy. But because of cultural attitudes about his credentials, on top of the meticulously detailed ways he pointed out Duan and Sichuan Garden’s wrongdoing because of what was ultimately a small sum, Edelman comes off as anything but."

Edelman, who also happens to be a Harvard professor, has apologized.

In the meantime the restaurant has, by management's report, received messages of support from as far away as Australia. They have also issued a statement. Notice how the writer extends thanks for all the support, and how he writes that he has been trying to respond personally to everyone (nice). Notice how he has declined all the offers of website and legal support, because the restaurant can afford these things if needed (very nice). Notice how the writer apologizes to Harvard for their having been inadvertently dragged into the fray (extremely thoughtful). And notice how he exhorts the public to continue to support not just him, but all small businesses trying to serve customers and make a living (extremely gracious).

There is much to be learned here (for example, NEVER assume that your emails are private), but one of the things that stands out, and may not be addressed elsewhere, is that the small business owner empowered himself by presenting not a victim, not a company that takes advantage (at least to this point), but a truly classy establishment that cares about its customers, acknowledges mistakes, and wants and expects to do the right thing. A likely outcome, of course, is that the restaurant will attract plenty of new customers.

And that is a fine beginning on the way to winning friends and influencing customers and prospects.

Dark Days for Corporate Partnership

Trending today is an altered image of the ad promoting the “official team makeup looks” created by CoverGirl, the National Football League’s “official beauty partner.”

Poor CoverGirl. No doubt ecstatic over its creatively fashioned opportunity to reach female football fans, and female partners of male football fans, the company has been all over social media, exhorting us to rock our favorite team colors. As we might be, if we weren’t spending this week contemplating the culture of violence against women and children (and, one might argue, against opposing players) that the NFL has tolerated by its lack of serious action against clearly criminal behavior.

Here’s the altered photo:

 

How deeply embarrassing.

CoverGirl has responded to the controversy with the following statement: “As a brand that has always supported women and stood for female empowerment, COVERGIRL believes domestic violence is completely unacceptable. We developed our NFL program to celebrate the more than 80 million female football fans. In light of recent events, we have encouraged the NFL to take swift action on their path forward to address the issue of domestic violence.”

But was that enough?

Well, CoverGirl got more than 2,000 “likes” on Facebook within 24 hours. But they also got tremendous blowback, in the form of hundreds of angry comments about this rather mild-mannered statement. What does “encouraged” mean, anyway?

But, more to the point, what role does a corporate partner have to play in this situation?

We could obviously argue that the “right” thing to do is to immediately withdraw from the partnership. The Radisson Hotel chain suspended its sponsorship of the Minnesota Vikings upon learning that Adrian Peterson will continue to play despite serious (and undisputed) allegations of child abuse. But notice: other sponsors have not been so quick to act. Many or most are expected to express their “concern,” but they will likely let the situation play out—on the field, and in the courts. Most of these other sponsors, of course, cater directly to men. They are big sponsorships, and they represent millions of dollars in investment, plus the opportunity cost of lack of exposure to football fans over the course of the season if and when ads are pulled.

These are moments when it makes me sad to be a marketer.

But there are other possible responses. For example, what if the ads were changed? What if the sponsors used their big media dollars to sponsor anti-violence ads that aired during the NFL games? The message would have tremendous reach. And would you care if the ad said, “Brought to you by [nonprofit] and [major corporation]”? I would guess that most of us would respect the companies that had the guts to do it. Even for a single week.

The world is full of compromises. Let’s use this moment to make those compromises work for the welfare of everyone.