A change is as good as a stomped-on cliche

Right.  That's it.  I'm off.

Well, OK, not really off; just transferring this blog over to a new address on the FC website.

The new location for rants, ramblings and general observations is www.freemanchristie.com.

Same stuff, different address.

See you there. 

Creativity, old ships and bossy little notices

Last Sunday I visited the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard.  What a great place - and not just from a communications point of view either.  I spent hours wandering around HMS Victory, thinking that no matter how bad things get in agency life, at least I'm not likely to end up on the orlop deck getting bits hacked off by a bloke with dirty hands in an unwashed coat, stiffened with dried blood.  I visited the Nelson Museum and learned that Nelson used to invite his officers round for supper to get them to understand his strategy (a lesson there, I think).  And I visited the Submarine Museum in Gosport too - which has to be one of the least slick and, as a consequence, best, most alive museums I've ever visited.  Go and see it - it's well worth the trip.

The notice you see above captivated me though.  It was just inside the Royal Navy Museum.  Most places - being staffed by people who aren't creative because they've never been told that EVERY job is creative - sling up the standard dull little notice "uneven floor".  Not the Historic Dockyard.  They found a way to use creativity to make a potentially dull notice interesting, educational and engaging.  It made my day - just to see some creative thinking in action, not being strangled by some pointy-headed pen-pusher and there, on display, for everyone to see.

Imagine if your bank started doing this... and using your statement to explain a bit about personal finance in a non-preachy, non-pompous way.  Imagine if the letter from the garage telling you your car is due a service was a bit more creative and offered you a choice of vehicles to test-drive while yours was on the ramp?  How about if the restaurant you visited used the bill to give you a neat cooking tip or a recipe or a wine to match with food?

There are SO many opportunities to take the dull, the everyday, the boring communications and make them interesting.

Go on - dare you.

A wristwatch with a tuning fork - and proper copy

To say I have a fondness for wristwatches is a little like saying Herod would have made a relatively poor babysitter. I've got a drawer full of them, ranging from an obscure, swan-neck escapement Zenith I picked up for beans on Fleabay to a Breitling that tells me the time in three different solar systems. But one of my favourites is the one you see above - a mint 1964 Series 214 Bulova Accutron Spaceview.

They're clever watches, Accutrons. Bulova replaced the oscillations of the balance wheel with those from a tiny tuning fork. That means they're more accurate than watches with balance wheels. My watch hums away at around 360Hz (incidentally, the lowest "A" in baroque pitch - modern "A" is 440Hz) and keeps excellent time.

The Accutron was the first watch to run a high-frequency movement, and really started the watchmaking world on the path that led to accuracy of quartz crystal watches.

So what's all this got to do with branding and advertising?

Well, apart from allowing me to be self-indulgent, Bulova produced some of the best watch ads ever. Proper, well thought-through long-copy ads that really sold. There are a whole range of them at this cracking website.

I mean - look at this trade ad, targeted at jewellers who were cynical and sceptical about the new, battery-powered watches - here

What a great ad - using hard, factual information to drive a selling proposition. Wonderful.

Here's another ad that's targeted at the best advocates of all, watch repairers.

But it wasn't just trade ads, the consumer ads were gems. Look at this one - it was a theme Rolex were to use again and again in their 1970s ads.

These are all ads based firmly in fact, with no bull and no waffle - just clear, informed selling copy. Ads like these are rare enough today - which is odd, given the technical advances so many products have made. One would think there was MORE to talk about rather than less.

But either way, it's rather pleasant to find I love the ads as much as the product.

Hyperbole

It's a nasty disease, hyperbole. Unfortunately, many agencies seem to suffer from it - and badly too.

Here's a little example I found earlier today:

With XXXX, you know you are getting the customised product that suits your requirements with the highest level of service.

Well, apart from the cliche-generator button having been hit a little too often, it's not believable. "The highest level of service"? Really? Sooooo, I can expect to call the MD and get him to personally courier over my widget in half an hour?

No?

It's hardly "the highest level of service" then, is it?

What you mean is that "we're competent, won't screw up your order too often and you can have it Wednesday." Yes?

OK. So why not say that? How about this instead:

"Just give us a call, tell us exactly what you want and we'll make sure your widget arrives in 24 hours - or sooner if we can."

Isn't that a little friendlier, more honest and easier to read?

But finding out from the client that they offer a 24 hour delivery (substantiating the claim) is beneath some writers. So, instead, they're lazy and go for hyperbole.

Why not spend a bit more time with the client, find out the details of what they do and tell people? It's a lot more powerful than hitting that bullshit button again, isn't it?

It's terminal

Apparently, according to BA's new advertising campaign, "Terminal 5 is working".

That's good. It's handy when things work. In fact, it's a bit more than that, isn't it? It's a downright prerequisite.

Imagine, there you are, hurtling down the runway, the co-pilot about to give the command "rotate", and a little light comes on in the passenger cabin. It says "Your 777 is working."

Is it just me, or does that message not fill you with reassurance?

In the same way, being told that Terminal 5 is working doesn't really make me think all is well. I know there were some teething problems (if you can call sending baggage for Bristol to Bogota a teething problem), but I thought things were running pretty well down there now. Until that ad told me "Terminal 5 is working". Now I'm not so sure.

You see, it's a bit like coming home to your significant other and saying, "Hi darling, I didn't spend this afternoon in a suite at Claridge's with several bottles of champagne and my secretary. How was your day?" It raises rather more questions than it answers.

Anyone else remember the wonderful British Rail campaign in 1985? It had the tag line "we're getting there". Of course, no-one believed it because BR wasn't getting anywhere. But at least it had the virtue of humility, an admission that they had screwed up before and were trying.

"Terminal 5 is working" doesn't even have that - it's another example of a corporation believing the public are easily duped. They're not - far from it. It's a bit of a shame - the ad concept with its live time updates on baggage and people is a gem. It's a wonderfully simple, creative way of getting the REAL point over. The point that yes, we made a right arse of ourselves on Day 1, but now we're back in control and it's all OK.

A simple, powerful idea that's almost completely shot out of the air by the tagline. Shame.

An allegory...

Opens on a car showroom. Plate glass and polished metal abound. Sun gleams from the paintwork of this year’s new models as the doors sigh open to admit an expensively-suited man. He walks to the nearest desk, where a salesman stands up, shakes his hand and offers him a seat.

“I think I’d like to buy a car.” says the man.

“Well, you’re in the right place... we’ve got lots of cars,” says the salesman, “What sort of thing are you looking for?”

“I don’t really know,” the man replies, “but I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Not a problem, sir, we’re used to helping people who aren’t too sure. How much do you want to spend?”

“Ah - that’s the thing,” says the man, “We don’t have any money - you car salesmen are always so expensive.”

“You don’t have any money, but you want to buy a car?” the salesman asks, a little incredulous.

“Well, not really,” says the man. “I mean, we’ve got some money, but not very much. But I can’t tell you how much, can I?”

“Right. I see,” the salesman says, “you’re on a budget. That’s, um, fine. Just give me an idea of broadly how much you’d like to spend.”

The man says, “well, that’s the thing - we can’t tell you how much or you’ll just sell us the most expensive one we can afford, won’t you?”

The salesman draws himself up in his chair and straightens his tie. “Sir. We’ve been here for twenty years. We’ve sold more than ten thousand cars. Our customers come back time and again to do business with us. We’ve never had a complaint. No matter how much you have or don’t have, we can find a car that will suit you.”

The suited man thinks for a second and asks, ”OK, how much will it cost then?”

The salesman rolls his eyes a bit, coughs and starts again. “OK, we’ve got 150 cars we could sell you. They’re all quite nice. But we need to know what you’ve got to spend so I can show you which one’s best for you - I can’t just sell you any old car - that wouldn’t be right.”

The man looks puzzled for a bit, then says. “We need something that does lots of miles to the gallon, 0-60 in under 6 seconds, seats at least five, goes really fast and is easy for my wife to park!”

“Bit of a challenge, but I think we can do it. I’d recommend our new R567i Granleo. Absolutely beautiful bit of kit, Sir. Here’s one in Hoobie Blue.”

“Nah - don’t like blue.” says the man.

“Fine,” says the salesman, through only slightly gritted teeth, “we have it black, green and puce too. Any of those any good to you?”

“Hmm,” replies the man, “might be. How much is it?”

“The 567i Granleo, Sir? That’s £18,950 - £19,000 with leather.”

“HOW MUCH?!!!” exclaims the man, “That’s insane - we don’t have that sort of money! How are we supposed to afford that? Haven’t you got anything cheaper?”

The salesman picks up his coffee mug and peers despairingly into its depths.
“Yes, but that’s the only car that fits what you asked for, Sir”

“You car dealers are always so difficult,“ says the man, clearly exasperated as he picks up the phone on the salesman’s desk.

“I suppose it’ll do, but I’ll have to check with my wife that it’s OK. Can you leave me to call her now - thanks.” The man waves the salesman away.

The salesman picks up his coffee mug, walks to the espresso machine and makes himself a very large one. Then, reluctantly, walks back to his desk.

“My wife says it sounds OK, but can we get a horse in the back?” asks the man.
“What?” the salesman replies.

“...and I need it in green, with alcantra seats, a dog basket and a gun turret on the roof.”

“Oh yes, and by Wednesday.”

The salesman sites down heavily and puts his head in his hands.

“Right,” he says, wearily. “Let me see what we can do.”

An allegory continued...

A week later, the doors again hiss open and the man in the suit walks in. This time, he has his wife with him. The salesman sees them coming, checks in vain for any colleagues and realises - despairingly - that he’s alone.

“Morning, Sir.” the salesman says, mustering some enthusiasm from the depths of his soul.

“Morning,” says the man, “this is my wife. She’s the one who really makes the decisions round here.”

The salesman and the man’s wife shake hands, sitting down across the desk from each other.

“Right.” says the wife, “About this car...”

“Ah yes,” our hero responds, “the car. It’s here - I’m just having it brought round for you. The mechanics have been working on it all week to get it ready. All we need to do now is sort out how you’d like to pay.”

“Pay?!” she says. “What do you mean, “pay”? We wanted to make sure it was right for us first, before we bought it. I mean, we’ve got three other cars we’re trying out at the moment before we make a decision.”

“Right. So we’ve spent a week working solidly to get your car prepared as you wanted, now you’re telling me you have three others to try out and you don’t want to pay for it anyway?”

“Yes, that’s right,” she says, nodding, with a smile, “you prepare the car the way we asked, then we drive it around to see if we like it. If we like it, we might buy it - but it really depends on how much we’ve got after finishing building the conservatory.”

The salesman stares at her, blankly. “OK, you want a test drive, yes?” he asks.

“Oh no,” says the man, “we want you to build the car to our specification, then we drive it around for a bit along with three other cars we’re trying out. Then, after three months, we might buy it.”

“...if we’ve got enough after the conservatory, darling.” the wife adds.

The salesman - who needs to pay the rent on his showroom, his staff’s salaries and the taxman his ever-expanding wedge, quietly walks to the doors and turns the sign round to read “Closed”. Then, he walks out of the showroom to find a nice, quiet, stress-free job in bomb-disposal.

The curse of Dickens

I was amazed to get a letter from my bank this week. 

Apparently, I'm in credit on my credit card.  Leaving aside the rather inverted idea of a card that gets you into debt being a 'credit' card, the letter was a bit grim.  It had that finger-wagging, milk-monitorish tone that bank admin staff sometimes adopt.  

It was a classic admin letter - written entirely from the bank's point of view, treating me as a bit thick (ok, I am, but I still don't like being called thick) and making no attempt to build any sort of relationship with me.  You'd have thought, by now, we'd have learned a bit more about customer communications.  Apparently not at HSBC.

The note was also a bit convoluted:

"You may be unaware the bank requests you do not place your account into credit; this is stated in our Terms."

I particularly liked the capitalisation of "Terms" - they must be ever so important if they need a capital letter.  I also liked the implication of "You may be unaware..." - it's always good to call your customers morons; goes down reeeeeally well. 

Of course, like every admin letter a bank ever sends, it was in the third person: "the bank requests".  In my opinion, the only person in the UK who is allowed to use the third person is the Queen.  And of course, "requests" sounds more pompous than "asks",  so the bank thinks it must be better.

Now, what was wrong with:

"We've noticed you've overpaid your credit card account.  Please call us and we'll transfer your money to your bank account - or you could even use it to start a cash or equity ISA with us..."

Simple.  Easy.  Understandable.  And even an attempt to sell the customer something.  Hell, why not?

But it got better...

"Therefore would you please contact us, supplying a UK sterling bank code and account number, so we may return these funds to you."

Why?  Why be so bloody pompous and Dickensian?  I'm sure that Paula Stevens from Card Operations doesn't speak like this.  I'll bet she's good fun, enjoys a laugh, uses the word "money" more often than "funds" and would never call a customer "unaware" (although I'll bet she thinks a lot of them are utter morons - and fair game, we probably are).  I'll bet if I met her she'd be good company.  So why does she write like this? 

  

It's not Paula's fault.  The blame lies firmly on the polished glass desktops of her bosses.  They think it's OK to invest no money or time at all in admin letters.  

"So what?  They're just admin letters, aren't they?"  

Well, no they're bloody well not.  

This is the first letter I've EVER had from HSBC that's been signed by a real person - thank you Paula.  But with it, all the branding work your agencies have done has been dropped in the shredder.  You tell me in your ads that you're all friendly and nice and modern.  You tell me that you care about me as a customer.  You tell me that you're different from all the other banks.  But you're telling me porkies - this letter shows you're just the same, stuffy old bank that you always were.

How much did HSBC spend on its brand last year?  It'll be in the millions in the UK alone.  And every time a letter like this goes out, it's wasted.  The dissonance between the brand communication and the customer services communication is massive.  It's the corporate equivalent of a warm handshake followed by a slap round the face.

It would be less damaging if Stephen Green, the bank's Chairman, sat in his office stuffing fifties from the ad budget into the fireplace, handfuls at a time.

Here's a suggestion - invest just 1% of your above the line budget to make sure the brand message is carried through into ALL your customer communications.  The impact would be massive.  

Why creatives get stroppy.

Some pretty impressive teddy-throwing goes on in agencies.  

A copywriter once started a memo to his Production Director (who had screwed up his project by printing it on bog-paper) with the words "Where I come from, we have a saying.  A dog doesn't shit on his own doorstep..."  An Account Director got asked outside for a fight by another writer (our money was on the writer - a hard Glaswegian who now runs his own agency in New York).  In another client meeting, the agency responded to the client's "I don't like it" with "I don't give a fuck whether you like it or not - does it work?"

Why get so up-tight?  It's only a job, right?

No, not really.  It may not be fashionable to care about what you do, but good creatives do.  That's why they're creatives and not corporate lawyers, accountants or civil servants.  It's also why they get stroppy.  They really do give a toss about your brief for a bingo hall flyer or a new range of mild steel widgets.  If they didn't, they wouldn't spit the dummy.

A good creative should have pulled your product apart, found out what makes it work and what makes it appeal, then developed a way to communicate it.  They invest time, effort and sometimes even a bit of love in what they do.  If they're like our team here, they'll have thought about your stuff riding home from the studio, in the pub, over supper, out walking.  They'll have sketched stuff on the backs of envelopes and napkins.  It's not a job you can turn off when you lock the door and go home.  They'll have fought for their ideas over the studio meeting table and developed them further.

They give a damn, they really do.  That's why they throw strops.  And I hope they always do.

Sales & Marketing Director? The ultimate hospital pass?

Are you a sales and marketing director?  What did you do in a past life to deserve it?  Did your ancestors go around defiling cursed ancient Egyptian tombs or something? Seriously - whatever they're paying you isn't enough. 

This isn't creepery on our part - far from it.  It's simply that being the S&M Director (never a more appropriate combination of initials) is an almost impossible job.  Why?  Because although both elements of the job have a common goal (and in a perfect world should work together), in reality it ends up as either a constant feud between sales and marketing or a clear win for one side that ends up damaging the business.

The problem is that sales and marketing - although having a common fundamental aim - have different ways of going about it.

The two should work in harmony.  Marketing should set 'em up and sale should knock 'em down - but it so seldom happens that way.  The marketers think the salesforce are target-focused neanderthals who don't give a tuppenny toss about the brand.  The salesforce think the marketers are effete, namby-pamby dreamers who couldn't survive three minutes in the commercial world. 

I'm exaggerating to make a point, but that's it, isn't it?

The difficulty comes in the way the two parts of the organisation operate.  Sales is about NOW - it's about developing and closing prospects in the short term.  Targets are monthly, perhaps even daily.  That sort of target mentality doesn't give a damn about a brand development that'll pay off in a year, it wants to know about NOW.  Marketing takes (at least it should...) the longer view.  Where's the market moving?  What are the trends?  How do we anticipate and capitalise on them?  'Now' is no use to the marketer - she's interested in the future.  

At the most basic level, that means the salesforce resent every penny spent on the brand - they'd spend it on reducing the price of the product or service so it was simpler and quicker to sell.  The marketers pull their hair out as they see the salesforce devaluing the brand by discounting.   Stalemate. 

In our perfect world, the S&M Director manages to keep the contemptuous and feuding camps apart, using the tensions to his advantage.  But it doesn't happen that way.  One 'side' usually wins and rules.  I've worked in businesses where the Salesforce are the gods - and in others where the Marketers sit on Olympus and pass down their wisdom.  Neither worked well... 

You can see it so clearly in many industries - but let's look at the motorcycle industry.  Open any bike magazine and you can see pages and pages of ads.  Not one demonstrates an understanding of the brand - they're all 'sales NOW' ads.  Even Harley Davidson - a brand so powerful that its devotees will tattoo it into their skin - is leading on a price and finance offer.  Sales has won.  It always has in Bikeland.  Look back to copies of the motorcycle press from the 1940s and it's just the same - leading on price and platitude.  OK in the short term, but looking at the figures shows an industry with some serious long term problems. 

It's perhaps because the industry is dominated by concessionaires and importers who have always had a powerful sales focus.  And because they're concessionaires, trying to turn a profit, investing in the brand has seldom been their priority.  The saddest thing is that manufacturers seem to be happy to allow the brand to evolve at their hands rather than control its progress and development.

The thing is, you only have your brand.  Now, a technological advantage is eroded in months.  A price advantage is destroyed in hours.  Very, very few products are unique anymore and points of difference are tiny.  So what's left?  Brand.  That's it.  That's all that differentiates you from everyone else.  Harley understand it - big time.  The Japanese manufacturers?  Not yet - but they'll need to.

So if you're an S&M Director, you have our very, very best wishes.  Lion taming's an easier career.

What do you want?

"...the purpose of this document is to specify the marketing requirements for our new campaign..."

That's what the brief on my desk says.  It's pretty typical of most of the briefs on most agency desks in the UK, I guess.  It's what clients do.  They ring us or e-mail and ask for a website, a brochure, a PR piece.  But it's going too far.  Clients should be lazier when they brief.

What do I mean?

Those clients don't really want a brochure.  They want their sales figures to go up.  They don't really want a website, they want people to find them on the web and order things.  They don't really want a press release, they want to change someone's mind somewhere.  So what if a brochure won't do the job and a press release is a better idea?  It takes a brave agency to say "NO - no brochure for you Mr Client, here's a brand extension instead."  And it takes a very flexible client to listen.

Perhaps it's because the creative 'industry' (that term always makes me snigger) carves itself up into camps.  There are 'design agencies', and 'PR agencies' and 'advertising agencies'.  That makes clients think about outcomes, not objectives - makes them fix on the brochure rather than what the brochure should achieve.

But what if clients did what one of our hospitality clients has done this morning?  What if they came to us and just dumped a big, steaming problem on our desks?  This morning, our client said 'we want more people to visit our pubs on a certain night in the week - how could we get them to do it?'

No-one started talking about brochures or postcards or any other sort of outcome.  We all started talking about the problem, why it was, what caused it, what influenced it and how we could solve it.  Then, once we understood the problem, we started talking about the messages we'd need to use to solve it.  And it was only then that we began thinking about the outcomes. 

They got a solution that mixed PR, sales promotion and a bit of advertising.  They wouldn't have got that mix if they'd specified the outcome rather than telling us their objective.

Try it next time you brief your agency.

Search engine obfuscation

Maybe it's some of the people who 'write' for the web.  Maybe it's short deadlines or bad briefs.  Maybe it's just plain old lack of thinking (the bane of 'creatives' everywhere).  Whatever it is, I'm starting to hate - with a vengeance - writing that's been search engine 'optimised'.  You'd like an example?  Here you go...

Affordable Web Site Design for Anytown Businesses
If you're based in Anytown (or any of the towns and villages surrounding Anytown) and looking for help with your web site design, then We Can't Write for Toffee  Studios can help - we're ideally located to provide Web Site Design in Anytown. Additionally, as a small web design agency, we're not only able to deliver high-quality web site design solutions, but affordable ones too. We aim to make all of our web site designs high quality but low cost. We truly believe you won't find better value for money from any other web site design agency offering Web Site Design in Anytown.

I really wish I'd made that up to make a point.  But it is real - I copied it three minutes ago from a live webpage for a design agency.

Now, is it just me or is that a little clunky?  Or clunky is it?  A little?  For people who like clunky, those clunky people?  Clunky people (underlined - issalink!!) like this sort of thing, especially if they enjoy a little bit of clunkiness.

Even forgiving the cliches packed like First Great Western commuters, that's appalling writing BEFORE it was 'optimised'.  Now it's been optimised it's a mess of repetition, garbage and drool.

Write like this in print and - if you're lucky - your Creative Director will sack you.  You really deserve to be eviscerated with a spoon, but sadly, namby-pamby employement law forbids it. So why write like it on the web?  More repetition than a Janet and John book but rather less likely to sell.

It's perfectly feasible to write copy for the web that's as compelling as good print copy.  It's just bloody rare at the moment.  At the moment it's not very common.  Rare in fact, as a somewhat undercooked rare thing with a rare helping of rarebit - or something like rarebit in a village called Rare-on-Sea...

[the author is spending some time with a bottle of something French and red to recover] 

How do you do it?

Agency new business is an odd thing.  The best new business simply seems to come from chatting to existing clients and people in your black book.  

"Oh yeah - Steve over at Lehmann Brothers was looking for an agency - give him a call.  Another glass of Sangiovese?  Don't mind if I do."

But how about the clients you'd kill to work with but don't know?  What do you do?

Should you call them?

I used to be a client, back in the miserable days before I ran my own agency.  I worked for a City investment and pensions company.  We got a LOT of calls from agencies.  An average day would see the phone ring at least four times.

"Hello, my name's Martha Moggins from Blue Dingo's Arse.  We're an agency that produces really great work for our clients and blah, blah blah blah..."

I never met one of them.  We had an agency - and a very good one too thanks to Kirsti and Peter who looked after us.  We weren't going to change agencies.  But the quality of calls wasn't great - lots of telling me stuff and not asking questions.  

So now the receiver is on the other ear, and I'm in charge of new biz for Freeman Christie, should I be calling you?

What do you think?  Useful to know what's out there in Agencyland or a pain in the bum?

"I don't like it."

Imagine the scene...

Opens on a smart, glass-walled City lawyer's office.  Two people sit facing each other over a meeting table.  They are lawyer and client.

Lawyer: "Now, Mr Client.  Here's the contract for the transaction.  We've spent the last week working on it and it's pretty much perfect.  You'll get the company, the buildings and the staff. They get £3.5m over five years, that's what we agreed."

Client: "Thanks - that's great Mr Lawyer.  Where do I sign?"

Now.  Imagine another scene...

Opens on a smart, glass-walled design agency's office.  Two people sit facing each other over a meeting table.  They are designer and client.

Designer: "Now, Mr Client.  Here are the designs and copy for this year's annual report.  We've spent the last week on it and it's pretty much perfect. You'll get..."

Client (interrupting): "I don't like green."

Designer: "Sorry?"

Client:  "I don't like green.  And we need a bigger picture of the product.  And the copy isn't 'salesy' enough. And... AAARRGGHHH!!!"

SFX: Agency bludgeoning client to death with a cafetiere.

I have seriously though about introducing a £50 fine for each time a client says "I don't like it."  I don't actually CARE whether clients like or dislike the work we do (although it's personally flattering when they do - which is very dangerous indeed).  

What I care about is whether or not our work sells for our clients.  I care whether or not it's appropriate to the target market.  I care whether or not it gets their message over clearly, simply and effectively.  But I don't give a stuff whether they like it or not. 

Why?  

Not because I'm an arrogant, stroppy 'creative', (not always, anyway) but because I give a damn about my clients' work and its effectiveness.  We spend all our time thinking about our clients' markets, reading what they read, understanding how they think and interact with websites, printed material and visual media.  I'd like to think that, after (blimey!) nearly twenty years doing it we're quite good at it.  

We don't have a codified set of principles to fall back on in the same way lawyers can.  I can't tell my mythical client that green is perfectly appropriate for thirty-three year old Lexus buyers in Penge.  Perhaps that's a mistake - but I think not.  After all, human nature and communication is too complex to codify.  But people who write copy and design for a living should be able to cast a net around this complexity and understand how to communicate it clearly, powerfully and effectively.

And clients should be happy to let them - whether they like it or not.

"Deliver/Designer" - brand new service from Freeman Christie

Ahhh, the things we do for clients. George was posted on Friday, we're expecting her to arrive in Yemen some time in mid-April. Good luck George, we'll miss you.

Decent marketing - still out there

With the Pareto Principle applying to the Freeman Christie postbox (80% trash), it's a delight to get a piece of DM like this from Yellow Pages.

From a design point of view there are better looking DM packs, but this one's functional and sound.  It's the copy that's the best bit...

The writer sounds as though he's read his Claude Hopkins, Drayton Bird (lunch be upon him) and David Ogilvy.  It's an absolute bloody joy.

There's a key, single, simple proposition.  "Get a Yellow Pages entry and we'll bring business to your door."

The proposition is quantified. "We'll get you five new leads a week." and it's backed up with data.

The opening acknowledges that small business owners are strapped for time, and it recognises that sales are the key worry area for all of them.

It's clear what I'm supposed to do - it would be hard to miss that massive yellow response device.  And they've even completed it for you.  

Gorgeous.

It's unusual to see a DM piece this good nowadays. Most agencies have forgotten the function of direct mail is to SELL.  Yes, done well, it enhances the brand too, but the primary function of DM is to sell something.  That means anyone writing DM needs to have read the masters (Drayton, Claude and David) and be able to think their way into the mind of the prospect.

I still love writing DM.  It was my first job in advertising and it's informed everything I've done since.  It's a bit like learning Latin - not glamorous, hard work and slog but excellent discipline and a good foundation.  If you're used to people having 12 seconds to evaluate your mailpack (8 are spent opening the envelope and unfolding the contents), you start cutting all the puff from your writing.  You need to get to the benefits quickly, and sell them in a way that shows you understand the prospect and what makes him buy - thoroughly.

Years ago, I worked in direct mail for Nationwide Building Society.  The week before I started, I spent Saturday morning sitting on the wall outside my local branch, watching people go in and come out.  I saw the shopping bags they carried, the clothes they wore, the other shops they visited.  And I learned more in that morning about my customers than I learned in pages of research and focus groups.  It's only by meeting and talking to your clients and customers that you can understand what drives them.  And that's the only way you can communicate with them.

Try it - go and meet some of your customers and find out what really makes them buy.

Why giving an agency a budget could save your marketing

It’s an age old problem, and one that’s encountered all too frequently. An agency battles through the credentials and creative pitch, finally wins it and asks the simplest of questions. “What’s the budget?”.
It should be a simple question, but so often is answered with a “we don’t know” or a “what do you think it will cost”.

There are usually two reasons for this. The first is that the client doesn’t actually have any idea what the job SHOULD cost. This is worrying because it's always useful if a client has been able to do some research.  It makes a lot of sense to get some foundation and understanding of what a job will end up costing.  It tends to prevent heated debates along the lines of “we never knew it would cost so much!” Not a great start to a potentially long relationship…

The second reason boils down to a question of trust. The client feels that if they let on how much they have to spend the agency will always match it or try for something a bit bigger. Why tell them how much you have to spend if they can do it for cheaper. This sort of “drive them down” mentality has several flaws, and is often the reason for projects going sideways. For a start, any decent agency will always work to the client’s budget, whatever it is. That’s the point of a budget. The problem, especially with larger, more complex projects, is that the variables are so considerable that without a clear idea of the clients monetary restraints the agency can rarely produce a good solution. We’ve had projects that could have cost the client thousands and managed to come up with an equally effective solution for a few hundred pounds – the important thing was the client told us what the problem was, and how much they had to throw at it. It’s the agencies job to take these variables and come up with a solution that works.

If you imagine going shopping for someone else, with a “very tight budget” but now idea how much that actually was. What items would you buy? What if you buy something you think will be cheap, only to find out it’s several times what you thought it would be. Wouldn’t you just buy everything on the cheap as the expense of quality? A good creative agency takes your shopping list and goes out to find the best combination of items to fit your budget – a difficult task if it has no idea what you want to spend.

It’s hard for the client too – too many times they get bitten on cost by a less than reputable agency, or an agency tries their luck depending on what they feel the client has to spend. But that problem’s easily fixed by choosing the right one. There are equally plenty of agencies out there who work their socks off just to make sure the client gets what they want, and are happy to lose a bit along the way to make sure they get it right. The best way of establishing this is to chat with the agencies current clients. Ignore the testimonials on the site – they’re not going to put anything bad on their, instead ask for a few contacts who would be happy to be called/emailed. Most good agencies will have close enough relationships with their clients that this wont be a problem.

Why is a good idea of budget so important? Well, it has a massive impact on how effective your agency can be for you. Whether a new online strategy, marketing collateral or a comprehensive brand exercise, the tools and methods your agency use will all be dictated by budget. As someone infinitely wiser than me once said, there’s more than one way to skin a cat. It’s the same for problem solving – multiple channels can be used, each judged on it’s own merits, and each one suitable under different budgetary constraints.

An extreme example would be TV advertising – it’s a great awareness and brand enhancing tool, but obviously requires considerable funds in the kitty. How is an agency ever going to make the right choices for you if you don’t give them the foundations to do it?

Giving an agency clear guidance on how much money you actually have to spend isn’t just important, it’s absolutely vital for your marketing and communications to be a success. It’s as important as getting the brief right – without it, you’re never going to get maximum ROI. Bizarre really, that so many companies think they can save money by misleading their agency, and even more bizarre is when the same companies wonder why they didn’t quite get what they were hoping for at the end of the project.

Think about the poor, over-messaged prospect

People are - as always - short of time.  I suspect people always have been.  I can see Socrates, in the agora at Athens, checking his diary and thinking he just had too many things to do.  That means you need to make stuff relevant - and fast.

It doesn't matter whether you're writing for big budget TV ads or charity direct mail.  The stuff we produce in the 'communications industry'* has the life-expectancy of a gnat.  In the same way, the people who see our stuff have the same attention span.  The average direct mail pack gets 12 seconds before it's binned or read - and eight of those 12 seconds are spent unfolding and opening the pack contents.  That means we need to get their attention pretty briskly.

So how do most practitioners do it?  Whacky bloody headlines.  Egg, this morning, sent me a mailing with the envelope line "Look inside.  It's worth it.  We're not just saying it's worth it because we can.  It really is.  Truly."

Now, 'worth it' to me at 7am means either coffee, a bacon sandwich or free money.  They were offering none of those.  In fact, they wanted to sell me an interest-free credit card.  No interest for 14 months.  A good, powerful offer.  So why use an envelope headline that has all the attraction of a plate of lightly salted slugs?

Two minutes with Google, and you can see that Virgin has a 15 month interest-free card, but there are plenty of 12 month, 9, 8, and 6 month offers the writer could have compared with. Get the art director to bash up a comparative bar chart for the envelope and stick on the headline "Where would you rather transfer your balance?"

It's not madly creative, but it IS simple, clear and gets straight through to the consumer.

It raises another point too - the notion that your consumer is capable of sapient thought.  That means it's THEIR decision if something's 'great', 'high-quality' or 'worth it' - not yours.

More next week...

*it's not a bloody industry - industries have foundries, sweat, workshops and make stuff; we sit at laptops, pontificate and have lunch.  And I like it that way.

What's all the heifer stuff about?

What do you call a blog? 

"Freeman Christie Blog"?  Dulllllll.  

"Creative Thinking"?  Pass the bucket.  

After all of three minutes thinking, we went for an anagram.  Miscreant Heifer - anagram of Freeman Christie.  There were a few more good 'uns, but we all liked the Heifer best.  Sort of fits with our No Bull idea and it's bit maverick (sorry).

Here were the other front runners:

• Ace Firemen Shirt
  
• A Mischief Renter
  
• A Trice Fishermen
  
• Ace, Fresh, Mintier! (oooh - how potentially corporate!)
  
• Trims Her Fiancee
  
• Mini Hectare Serf 
  
• If Hermits Careen (should really be the title of a novel)
  
• Creamier Hen Fits
  
• Increase The Firm
  
• Finish Me Terrace!
  
• Create Firm Shine!
  
• Niftier Cashmere
  
• Chestier Fireman
  
• Fireman Heretics
  

Got to say, I was really tempted by the rather Mrs Miggins-ish "Finish me terrace!"  But "Miscreant Heifer" it is.

We've been doing some thinking about museums.

Striking, isn't it?

But, er, what is it?  And why is it there*?

We want to start doing some information design work with museums and galleries.  It seems that there's vast amounts of potential for writing and designing material that communicates clearly.  After all, the whole idea of museums is to give people an engaging way of learning. And if you want to help people learn, you need information design. 

But I suspect this is one of those dangerous areas to go tripping through:

Should museums be more about artefects or interpretation? 

Are they about the objects in the cases or the interpretation through context?  I mean, go to the V&A (good cafe as well - run by Benugo, so you'll get a decent sandwich) and look...

Lots of gorgeous objects - but why are they there?  What do they do?  Who made them?  Why?

The things in the cases are beautiful in their own right, but with the right information visitors can appreciate them much more fully.  With the historical, cultural and societal framework they came from, there's a lot more potential to learn and understand - and appreciate them - as more than just beautiful objects.

So which is more important?  Neither.  Both.  It's all about context - a C16 silver candlestick will have enough intrinsic beauty to captivate visitors, but they'd learn a lot more if they knew about how C16 candles were made, who made them, what sort of people had expensive silver candlesticks... you get the idea.  More esoteric exhibits (take a look at Bletchley Park) get most of their meaning from interpretation and context.

So, if anyone at Bletchley fancies some free work on an interpretation leaflet, do get in touch...

* It's a dress made from (I think) parachute silk - hence the cords running from the case to hold it up.  It's item No. 4 on the V&A website here

Why your marketing doesn't need fixing

Marketing communications are the least of most companies’ problems. They hire agencies and pay their fees to research and write their sales material. Most marketing communication is, by and large, OK. The problem comes once the customer has bought and falls into the communications slough of ‘Customer Services’.

Sales and marketing material is usually written by agencies. But who writes the customer service communications? The scripts (may your god help you) for the call centre operators to parrot? Who designs the account statements? It’s Sherillee, that middle manager in Customer Services, isn’t it? Go on – admit it. Your marketing budget runs to six figures – yet the job of retaining that customer you fought so, so hard for is delegated to Sherillee.

Sherillee’s a top administrator; she cares a lot about customer retention. But she knows less than the square root of nothing about communications. Worse than that, if you’re a plc, you’ve probably passed her letter through three or four senior managers, a couple of product managers and finally, the compliance department. What started out as a badly written, somewhat convoluted letter is now a dense mass of sub-clauses, riders, disclaimers and faux-Dickensian English.

Your customer will not read beyond line two and if she does, she’ll think you’re useless.

Why should that bother you? So what if Mrs Buggins from Leamington doesn’t read the letter that Sherillee has so carefully crafted? Because Mrs Buggins is going to get a whole lot of other stuff, from other companies, that want to sell her something. Creative agencies will have spent hours trying to poach her from you with neat, well-written, propositional direct mail offers. They’ll have invested time, money and effort in taking her away from you – and you’re relying on Sherillee’s misbegotten, malcrafted standard letters, statements and scripts to keep her.

OK, I’m over-personalising to make a point, but most businesses – even plcs – spend a fraction of the time they should on their customer service communications. And this applies just as much if it’s ISAs you’re selling, insurance or pony nuts – Mrs Buggins wants to be treated like she matters.

Of course, my mythical Sherillee isn’t that dreadful. She can sling a few words together and make a (usually) literate sentence. Problem is, that’s not enough anymore – people don’t have time to wade through dense prose to find the meaning buried in paragraph three.

When they’re not writing faux-Dickens (“…we trust this is of assistance to you.”) corporate scribblers seem to have dug deep for their words in the bullshit heap. This note from BT turned up in yesterday’s post. “At BT, we’re committed to giving you a high quality service so that you can concentrate on meeting the ever increasing needs of your customers, which is why we have introduced BT Business Plan.” Sorry chaps, I know you’re actually concerned with whacking your share price as high as it can go. You won’t give a minute more to spend on my clients, so don’t try to kid me you will. The writer of this flowery, irrelevant, poorly thought-through tosh was selling snake oil. And if BT is committed to giving me a high quality service, how come all their operators are always ‘busy on other calls’ when I ring?

This raises another point. Don’t lie to your customers. They know when you’re lying because they’re not stupid and they’ve already bought from you. You need to be honest when you communicate, or at the very least you need to manage expectations. It would make a world of difference if BT said, “When you ring us, you may have to wait a little while before an operator can pick up your call.” But no, they’re too busy drafting customer letters with more puff than magic dragon soup.

The Sherillee Syndrome doesn’t just apply to customer letters. In most businesses, the communications aspects of customer retention hardly get thought about. How many times have you had to fill in an app form where you’ve had to write the same information three times? Or used a website where, once you’re a customer, you can’t find out anything useful? Or tried to call the customer telephone number where you’re kept in eternal ‘on-hold’ hell?

It’s so simple for customers to walk away nowadays. They’re used to finding deals; they know its part of the process. They know they get a better price if they’re promiscuous. They’ve got the whole web to look around. They’ve got your competitors bashing on their door asking for a chance. So you need to keep them. That means investing as much time (although not necessarily money) in communicating clearly to your customers. It means making their lives easier – not harder – when they’ve bought from you. For most businesses that’s not newsletters and fancy stuff, it’s just getting the basics right.

Spend some time and money on sorting out your client letters, your application forms and your call centre scripts.

After all, are you really happy leaving your customers to be looked after by Sherillee?