Why are they doing this?

Every once in a while, a company rolls out a product that, at least on the surface, would appear to cannibalize future sales of that product or sales of a related product line. If you're a market leader and you've established a pattern of repeat sales and customer loyalty, why come out with a product that lengthens the time between sales (longer-lasting XYZ; shoes with soles that never wear out)? Of course, there are good reasons to do this, but the cynic in me says most companies are more concerned about short-term sales and "shareholder value" and less concerned about long-term relationships.

Given the amount of bugs, viruses, bacterial and ear infections our family has succumbed to in the last seven weeks, I decided to go and buy a whole bunch of new over-the-counter products at the pharmacy today--both curative and preventative.

I bought "Early Defense" foaming hand sanitizer from Vicks, a brand that was seared into my brain at a very young age, when my mother used to rub me down with Vicks VapoRub (pronounced "Boppo-Roob" in the Spanish-speaking world). And there's no better way to guarantee rest when fighting off a cold than Vicks NyQuil. So, my question is this: If people are buying and using Vicks hand sanitizer, and it truly works, then won't those same people have far less need for VapoRub and NyQuil because they'll become sick less often? And if so, why do it?

Three possible answers: 1) The stuff doesn't really work (though I have to admit, the cucumber/mint scent would almost make it worthwhile even if there were no antibacterial properties). 2) The clear solution is so easy and cheap to make that the margins are off-the-charts. 3) Preventive products are clearly booming (just take a stroll down the cold medicine aisle and look at all the zinc lozenges, herbal supplements, Zicam-like "cold shortener" products there are) and Vicks (Proctor & Gamble) wants a piece of that market as a hedge.

Regardless, I've disinfected my hands with the fragrant foam eight times today.

Bad celebrity endorsements

OK, so it's not even a celebrity endorsement. The celebrities, in this case, happen to own the business.

In 11/29's Idaho Statesman, Fairmont Tamarack, a luxury resort community two hours from Boise, ran an ad highlighting investors Andre Agassi and Stefanie Graf. The tennis legends are quoted as saying, across the top of the ad in the largest font used in the ad, "We're creating a special home in Idaho....and one for you too." I didn't redact any language; the ellipsis is part of the quote.

This might fly in the Wall Street Journal, but it's downright insulting to any Idahoan (the assumed audience for Idaho's largest daily). To me, this reads like, "We're building a super-opulent payground for us to vacation and make some dough, but don't you worry--there'll be room for you as well. Assuming you can afford it, of course."

The ad violates a central tenet of effective marketing/communications: Take the focus off of yourself and instead focus on the consumer/customer/target audience. In this case, the target is but an afterthought ("....and one for you too.")

And it smacks of just the sort of patronizing, elitist, nouveau colonialist attitude so many developers take when building in this rapidly growing state. Thanks, Andre and Steffi, but I've already got a special home in Idaho. And no, I'm not just grousing because I can't afford your mountain getaways, "priced from the mid $700s to over $5 million." I'm grousing because if you can sell homes for $5 million, certainly you can spend the time and the money to create a decent ad.

Empowered Telesalespeople

I got a sales call this week from someone representing the Fred Meyer superstore chain. He was calling to sell our preschool in-store advertising. The ads would appear both in the aisles and on the carts themselves. He played up the fact that Fred Meyer has a lot of Hispanic shoppers, though I had to explain to him that though ours is a Spanish preschool, that doesn't necessarily mean we're targeting Hispanic parents and children (it's complicated--more on that some other time).

He didn't miss a beat, noting that we might want to target the same folks who are increasingly buying Fred Meyers organic food products. That made sense to me, given our target demographic. And given the store's relative proximity to our school, it sounded like something worth considering.

He then asked when would be a good time for the local rep to visit with me. At that point I explained that my preschool marketing budget for the year was basically shot and I didn't know if I could afford to do such a program.

At this point, most telemarketing reps would have said, "You can talk about that when you meet with Lou." After all, they probably get a bonus for each meeting they schedule. And the "scheduler" isn't usually authorized to talk about pricing.

I said, "I don't want to waste anyone's time. Could you tell me how much this is going to cost me?" And he said, "Sure," and then proceeded to quote me a price.

It turned out it was too rich for my blood and I told him that. And he then asked if he could call back next year and I didn't hesitate to say yes. I was impressed with the extent to which this salesperson/scheduler was empowered to deal directly with the prospect. They didn't waste my time and I didn't waste theirs. And even though they didn't close the deal, I remain impressed with their professionalism and will certainly be receptive to their message next time.

Do you think we're stupid?

Maybe it was the fatigue from Sen. Larry Craig's condescending and wildly implausible shuffling that caused me to take particular offense to similar equivocation arriving in my mailbox today.

Countrywide, which as anyone who's seen or read the news in the last several weeks knows, is one of the largest lenders in the country and is at the epicenter of the sub-prime loan debacle. They also hold the mortage on our preschool.

I receive a letter from their branch manager approximately once a month, which is a bit odd given that I'm not shopping for a home once a month, or even once a year.

But today's letter caught my attention: "Dear Brian, Right now it is hard to avoid news about the mortgage industry. Almost everywhere you turn there are stories about the difficulties some mortgage companies are facing in the current economic environment."

"Some mortgage companies?" Gee, would Countrywide happen to be one of them? Cuz I'm seeing your name in the news on a regular basis.

Why not directly address the fact that your company is going through some turmoil? You can assure me that everything is going to be OK and I'll likely believe it, but at least admit what everyone already knows. The problem now is that if they can't be honest with me in times of trouble, why should I believe they're going to be honest with me the next time I need a loan?

"For no mere mortal can resist...."

...the appeal of a viral YouTube video. This instant classic has been viewed over 5 million times, but if you haven't seen "Thriller" as performed by convincts in the yard of a penitentiary in Cebu, Philippines, you owe it to yourself to check it out. And if you don't fall in love with this song (and the choreography) all over again, you oughta check your pulse.

From my mobile office

I'm in between meetings and rather than go back to the office for a brief spell, I decided I'd be more efficient dropping into a coffee shop with wireless access.

I was the only one in the joint when I arrived. I maintained a reasonable distance from the counter as I looked up at the menu and read the dizzying array of gourmet coffee offerings. A loud, teenage barista practically screamed across the cafe, "Do you know what you want?" I responded with an abrupt "No", trying not to reveal just how annoyed I was.

As I learned moments later, this teen was new to the job and still in training. And she deserves patience and understanding.

Still, it's hard to believe someone could be so maladroit at reading customers. Everything about my body language suggested I was not ready to order--my distance from the counter, my intense concentration on the menu board, my lack of eye contact. And yet she forced the issue and miffed me in the process.

As I prepare to head out on a sales call, I'm reminded of the importance of listening intently to your customers--to their spoken language and body language. Customers and prospects give off all kinds of signs--some are even deliberate and take the place of language. And a salesperson who doesn't know how to pick up on verbal and non-verbal cues will not earn that person's confidence and may not get the deal because of it. The best salespeople are masters of human behavior and are entirely focused on reading and understanding everything that a prospect is thinking and feeling.

Where there's crisis, there's opportunity

Chinese toymakers are obviously in a bind. With Mattel recalling some 19 million toys this week, following a Fisher Price recall of 1.5 million toys, the Chinese toy manufacturing industry's short-term future is not exactly bullish.

Sure, Chinese-made items have long carried the stigma of looking or feeling "cheap," but the toys are now regarded as dangerous--with lead-paint hazards topping the list of concerns.

Quality toymakers with high safety standards will undoubtedly thrive in the wake of the massive recalls. And one company was seemingly smart enough to proactively answer the the media's question, "Where can parents turn for safe toys?"

An AP story by Lisa Eddy features a photo of Supervisor Katrin Buettner of the Haba Company in Bad Rodach, Germany. My first thought was that the company provided the pic to the AP, though an AP photographer is credited. Nevertheless, you can be certain that someone in the company's PR department or a hired PR firm arranged for and staged the photo. And it's the perfect image. The line supervisor is inspecting a kid's roller car. She looks very serious(this is one instance where stereotypes--like the German reputation for exacting precision--can work in your favor) and she looks like she coud even be a Mom herself. The brightly colored toys, while simple in design, look sturdy, hand-crafted, and disproving of the old bromide, "They just don't make 'em like they used to."

So, if I'm a parent who's sworn off Chinese-made toys because I'd rather not have my preschoolers ingesting lead paint, now I know where to turn. And anyone who's making toys oustide of China and insisting on higher standards should be capitalizing on China's troubles by getting journalists to cover their superior (and safer) products. After all, consumers don't just want to be alerted to the dangers; they want solutions. And the media's MO is typically to terrify people and later reassure them. Ride the reassurance wave whenever you can catch it.

"Poor people are hot."

You'd expect such crass commentary from Paris Hilton, who's hot factor has gone south since her sophomoric antics put her in pinstripes.

But we have the editors of "Fast Company" magazine to thank for this gem. The calendar entry on p.40 of the September edition leads with "Poor people are hot," and then explains that the Base of the Pyramid Conference in Ann Arbor will focus on alleviating poverty while also engaging in business development.

One of my first jobs out of college was working at Scholastic Inc.--more specifically "Instructor" magazine. And though I so badly wanted to be assigned a feature story, I was asked to put together pages like FC's "Next" section, where upcoming events are compiled and then given a catchy blurb. We can safely assume that some wet-behind-the-ears journalist in training researched and wrote these pieces, trying to be clever and perhaps slightly ironic.

But where was the intern's editor? Surely, someone should have been redlining that page and perhaps asking in the margin, "Too cheeky?" or, "Likely to offend millions of people?"

People living in poverty are not "hot." And working to improve the lives of people living in poverty isn't a trendy pasttime. Trivializing the "war on poverty" and those who wage it isn't just a boorish breach of political correctness; such coarseness drives one of the world's most pressing problems further from our consciousness by stripping it of the seriousness it warrants.

Building a Brand One Homicide at at Time

Outspoken New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin seems to have let his words get away from him again.

In commenting on the city's rather chilling murder statistics, he noted that the 117 murders this year are "not good for us, but it also keeps the New Orleans brand out there." And the award for invoking marketing terminology in the cause of astonishing insensitivity on the part of a public servant goes to....

Now if I were his press secretary, here are some talking points I might have provided:
1) This is wholly unacceptable for our city and as mayor, I'm doing everything I can to combat and curtail the violence, which in many cases has been aggravated by the aftermath of Katrina. (Acknowledge the gravity of the problem and point out, perhaps even in more specific terms, that you're taking action to address the problem. Also remind people that your city has still not recovered from an epic natural disaster that shocked and saddened the world.)
2) As we've continued to rebuild this great city and made it once again one of America's top tourist destinations, we understand that this news intensifies our challenge. (Reaffirm the city's "brand" by referring to it as a favorite destination. Recognize that violent crime has a direct impact on tourism).
3) We've come a long way and accomplished much in a very short period of time. The people of this city are brave, resilient, hard-working, and optimistic. It's true that we still face significant challenges but we have turned a corner, we've restored the glory of our great city, and we're very much open for business. And the ever-growing number of visitors to New Orleans is a testament to the incredible rebuilding work we've done. (We don't want your pity, we want your business).

If Nagin was attempting to evoke pity that would somehow translate into more federal assistance, it's a losing strategy that only undermines "the brand." Sure, people shouldn't forget about New Orleans. But don't say, "Remember, we need help because our murder rates are off the charts." This is sort of like a company saying, "Our product recall should serve as a reminder that we need people to buy our products."

When potential customers fear commitment

It’s a lesson I learned as both a teacher and then a parent: create a safe environment for kids to experiment and try new things and they’ll likely surprise you in pleasant ways. It would seem that principle also applies to consumers, who, when trying (buying) something for the first time, generally like to limit their downside risk. That’s why “satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back” offers are so commonplace and so alluring. It’s why many successful retailers (Costco, Nordstrom’s) have a “no questions asked” return policy.

I discovered the power of limited-risk purchases firsthand this summer, almost accidentally. My wife and I are a little more than a year into our Spanish immersion preschool venture. Frankly, it’s been a hard road—significant capital investment, zoning ordinances and regulatory compliance, first-year enrollment that fell short of the break-even point. I came to truly understand why so many businesses fail due to lack of capitalization.

But it appears we turned the corner just in the last six weeks and I’m fairly convinced it’s because we gave potential clients the opportunity to experience our “product” (which we happen to think is exceptional) at little risk to them. Our summer “camps,” which we offered largely because we needed revenue—any revenue—were themed weeks covering subjects we thought would be appealing to kids and parents alike (art with recycled materials, Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, Latin American cooking). Truth be told, these camps are really no different than a typical week at our preschool during the year, but “camp” is the preferred terminology for the season. Perhaps it’s because “camp” doesn’t imply commitment. It’s temporary and fleeting.

Prospective parents who were curious about our school but might have had fears about how their child would fare in a Spanish speaking environment or wondered whether this was truly an enriching early childhood experience rather than a gimmick, now had the opportunity to take us for a test drive, for the relatively small cost of just $119. People could sign up for just one week. The potential downside was limited. If it didn’t work out, they wouldn’t have to come back and their kids would have experienced something new and different.

Many new people tried our summer camps. Kids went home and couldn’t stop talking about the school. Parents loved what they saw and loved the enthusiasm from their children. And many decided to enroll their children for the school year. As I write this, we’re looking to expand our program to offer afternoon preschool and our waiting list grows each week. We always knew that if we could just get people in the door, we would succeed. We discovered that our low-risk camps were the perfect vehicle for introducing the school to a wider audience.

How can you make your business safe to try? A free consultation (don’t say “initial”—that implies future obligation)? What about making your product or service available at a charity silent auction, where someone might get something at a price well below market rate? Or giving away your expertise on your own blog? Perhaps a free seminar, free product samples, or a free, downloadable report (like a top ten list, which people can’t resist). How else could people try before they buy?

I can't get enough baby gibbon

I gotta hand it to the folks at Zoo Boise. They hyped the heck out of the birth of their new baby gibbon (that's a primate for those who haven't been exposed to the gibbon media bonanza here in Boise) and it seems to be working.

We're talking two front-page stories in the Idaho Statesman, numerous TV news spots, and coverage throughout the Northwest. About a monkey. It seemed silly, trivial, and altogether un-newsworthy. Nevertheless, as the father of two four-year old girls, I'm a fairly regular visitor to the zoo and thus I admit to paying some attention to the media coverage, though almost reluctantly (this is news???).

It's not a bad story, actually: an endangered species, two gibbons who zookeepers felt were unlikely to get it on, and a surprise pregnancy. And a mother who unceremoniously dropped her on the ground shortly after birth. The baby monkey, the stories reported, will be sequestered from public view or display for a number of months.

So what's the big deal? Well, I didn't think there was any. Until I went to the zoo on Saturday with my daughters. As we passed the gibbon exhibition, I explained to the girls that a baby had been born but that we wouldn't be able to see her for a while. They didn't quite get it so I explained to them all about her fragile state and how she needed human caregivers and that needed to strengthen her immune system, etc.

Later, I'm sitting on a bench watching my girls go up and down the slide outside the rainforest exhibit when suddenly, a sight to behold. Without even thinking, I exclaim, "Oh my God!" as if I've just spotted Julia Roberts. Sure enough, it was the baby gibbon, clinging to one of her human handlers, completely out in the open but just behind the off-limits chains. My girls heard me and all three of us ran over to see. It was a remarkable moment--the tiny, diapered primate was beautiful. We couldn't take our eyes off of her. I kept asking the handler questions just so she wouldn't walk away and we could continue to marvel at this astonishing creature. And for the rest of the day, I couldn't stop talking about the fact that we got to see the baby gibbon.

Why am I telling this story here? It's a PR homerun. Zoo Boise has created buzz. They've created suspense. They've told a story that has many great dramatic elements: will the baby survive, will the mother bond with the baby, will the baby eventually grow up and leave Boise so that she might reproduce elsewhere in the interest of saving the species. Even cynical, old me looked to the little monkey as if she were a celebrity--and now that I've caught a glimpse of her, I feel so privileged that I'm telling everyone I know. My prediction: just like people recently flocked to buy the iPhone when it came out (after months of ubiquitous and tantalizing publicity), people will flock to baby gibbon (who should have a name by then) when she goes on public display.

Back in the game

I'm back from a brief respite. OK, it's been almost two years since my last post. What can I say--business has been good.

Actually, that's a pretty lousy excuse. Because even when I'm busy, I'm still stumbling upon all sorts of clever insights and observations and miserable marketing missteps.

Let's just say I'm once again committed. And I hope the hordes that comprised my loyal following (like those who peddle penny stocks and phony college degrees and previously commented on my blog) will return for more.