When I first saw this article arguing that companies spend too much time thinking about brands, my initial thought was: Here we go again. Someone is attacking a useful marketing/PR concept instead of criticizing those that apply it incorrectly.
But Brian Millar's article is more thoughtful than that, though it might be summed up more succintly by invoking my boss's definition of brand: A brand is not what you think of your product, but what your customers think of it. Too wit:
Brands were...a by-product of having great products and communicating them well to people. ...When was the last time Apple did a pure brand ad? Fifteen years ago? Apple went from a challenger to a leader when it stopped focusing on its brand and made its products the heroes of its communications.
True enough, though I would argue that Apple is an example of a company that not only understands that its brand is dependent upon the quality of its products, but also how to apply that brand in new areas. (Something that Millar takes Coca-Cola to task for failing to do.) Think of how Steve Jobs revived Apple with the iMac and how that computer came to define the brand: The seamless intergration of software and hardware, easy to use, a simple yet elegant design. So what was Apple's next act? The iPod, which could be described exactly as I just described the iMac. Apple focuses on the product, but the product always represents the brand.
It's interesting that Millar compares the concept of brand to two-dimensional maps that allow us to navigate terrain while representing it poorly. And yet, maps are indispensible in helping us get where we need to go, and also helping us understand where we came from. If that's all a brand is, well, then that's pretty damn good.
Showing posts with label branding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label branding. Show all posts
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
What a cannibalistic serial killer can teach us about branding
In the film Silence of the Lambs, FBI agent Clarice Starling picks the psychotic brain of imprisoned murderer Hannibal Lecter to help find another serial killer still on the loose:
"Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, his man you seek?," Lecter says.
"He kills women."
"No. That is incidental."
I thought of this exchange, oddly enough, when I read this post over at Spin Sucks about personal branding, and how people and organizations can stay relevant in a world of rapid change. The writer, Steve Kaplan, points to the example of Blockbuster, struggling to regain its market position after having its business model vaporized by Netflix:
Blockbuster lost sight of what the marketplace was doing, partially because they were tied up in real estate with their stores and couldn’t fathom people not showing up at their doors. By the time they embraced the online purchasing frenzy, Netflix was annihilating them, with others soon to follow.
The Blockbuster brand image was that of an old brand behind the times, tarnished almost beyond repair. While they have somewhat clawed back, it came at a heavy price, and in no way are they back to where they were before the switch to online rentals. Perhaps if they would have made staying relevant a priority, they might have seen things coming a little sooner and been able to salvage more of their brand image.
The problem with Blockbuster, however, was not that it clung too long to an outdated business model; that, as Dr. Lecter would say, is incidental. The problem was that Blockbuster didn't understand exactly what its business was in the first place. Remember what we've said here about newspapers? Like the railroad companies that thought they were in the railroad business, but were really in the transportation business, newspapers believed they were in the newspaper business but are really in the business of journalism. The delivery method should be -- you guessed it-- incidental.
Blockbuster is an entertainment company. They may not produce it, but they deliver it, and their mistake was getting too invested in one particular method of delivery. Walt Disney understood that his company was an entertainment business, not a movie studio, which was why he so easily transitioned to television when his competitors were crusading against it.
Netflix, for all its well-documented troubles, seems to understand that it isn't a business that sends DVDs through the mail, or streams them online, but that delivers entertainment in whatever format its customers demand at that particular moment in time. The lesson for all our organizations is to understand our nature, what it is we really do -- and not that which is merely incidental.
"Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, his man you seek?," Lecter says.
"He kills women."
"No. That is incidental."
I thought of this exchange, oddly enough, when I read this post over at Spin Sucks about personal branding, and how people and organizations can stay relevant in a world of rapid change. The writer, Steve Kaplan, points to the example of Blockbuster, struggling to regain its market position after having its business model vaporized by Netflix:
Blockbuster lost sight of what the marketplace was doing, partially because they were tied up in real estate with their stores and couldn’t fathom people not showing up at their doors. By the time they embraced the online purchasing frenzy, Netflix was annihilating them, with others soon to follow.
The Blockbuster brand image was that of an old brand behind the times, tarnished almost beyond repair. While they have somewhat clawed back, it came at a heavy price, and in no way are they back to where they were before the switch to online rentals. Perhaps if they would have made staying relevant a priority, they might have seen things coming a little sooner and been able to salvage more of their brand image.
The problem with Blockbuster, however, was not that it clung too long to an outdated business model; that, as Dr. Lecter would say, is incidental. The problem was that Blockbuster didn't understand exactly what its business was in the first place. Remember what we've said here about newspapers? Like the railroad companies that thought they were in the railroad business, but were really in the transportation business, newspapers believed they were in the newspaper business but are really in the business of journalism. The delivery method should be -- you guessed it-- incidental.
Blockbuster is an entertainment company. They may not produce it, but they deliver it, and their mistake was getting too invested in one particular method of delivery. Walt Disney understood that his company was an entertainment business, not a movie studio, which was why he so easily transitioned to television when his competitors were crusading against it.
Netflix, for all its well-documented troubles, seems to understand that it isn't a business that sends DVDs through the mail, or streams them online, but that delivers entertainment in whatever format its customers demand at that particular moment in time. The lesson for all our organizations is to understand our nature, what it is we really do -- and not that which is merely incidental.
Monday, March 12, 2012
What's in a name?
You may have noticed that safe, stodgy retailer J.C. Penney is now dead. Rising in its place is hip retailer JCP, which is so cool that it produces commercials featuring Ellen DeGeneres.
Or, at least they changed the name. I learned via the RepMan (one of my favorite PR bloggers) that this change was born of the habit of CEO Ron Johnson and other company insiders of referring to the company as JCP in emails. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the company rebranded itself based on the equivalent of an inside joke.
I can't help but recall Radio Shack deciding that everyone should start calling it "The Shack," in a bid to revitalize its antiquated image. It's like your dad deciding he's going to start shopping at Abercrombie & Fitch in order to seem young and hip, but the attempt only draws attention to just how old he really is. (Hell, I'm almost 39, so it's like me deciding to shop at Abercrombie & Fitch to seem young and hip.)
Allow me to say it again: You. Do. Not. Own. Your. Brand. Your customers do. It's not what you say it is, but what they say it is, and no amount of changes to your name or your logo or any of your other branding will make a damn bit of difference unless your product or service changes along with it.
What Radio Shack and J.C. Penney -- excuse me, The Shack and JCP -- demonstrate is that people often ascribe far too much power to things like taglines and logos and even brand names, when those things are merely reflections of an organization's reputation, not the basis of it.
On the other hand, organizations also can underestimate the resonance of their own brand campaigns, and abandon them too quickly. This happens because people inside the organization, steeped as they are in it every day, grow tired of a logo, or a slogan, or a commercial much more quickly than the public at large, or even than the most devoted customers. Those people don't live and breathe the brand on a daily basis. Witness what happened when Gap trying to redesign its logo. Aside from the criticism of the mediocre result, the bungled effort demonstrated that people were still invested in what was perceived as a tired brand.
Ultimately, it is behavior that drives reputation, not graphic design. But changing a logo is a hell of a lot easier than changing behavior, sad to say.
Or, at least they changed the name. I learned via the RepMan (one of my favorite PR bloggers) that this change was born of the habit of CEO Ron Johnson and other company insiders of referring to the company as JCP in emails. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the company rebranded itself based on the equivalent of an inside joke.
I can't help but recall Radio Shack deciding that everyone should start calling it "The Shack," in a bid to revitalize its antiquated image. It's like your dad deciding he's going to start shopping at Abercrombie & Fitch in order to seem young and hip, but the attempt only draws attention to just how old he really is. (Hell, I'm almost 39, so it's like me deciding to shop at Abercrombie & Fitch to seem young and hip.)
Allow me to say it again: You. Do. Not. Own. Your. Brand. Your customers do. It's not what you say it is, but what they say it is, and no amount of changes to your name or your logo or any of your other branding will make a damn bit of difference unless your product or service changes along with it.
What Radio Shack and J.C. Penney -- excuse me, The Shack and JCP -- demonstrate is that people often ascribe far too much power to things like taglines and logos and even brand names, when those things are merely reflections of an organization's reputation, not the basis of it.
On the other hand, organizations also can underestimate the resonance of their own brand campaigns, and abandon them too quickly. This happens because people inside the organization, steeped as they are in it every day, grow tired of a logo, or a slogan, or a commercial much more quickly than the public at large, or even than the most devoted customers. Those people don't live and breathe the brand on a daily basis. Witness what happened when Gap trying to redesign its logo. Aside from the criticism of the mediocre result, the bungled effort demonstrated that people were still invested in what was perceived as a tired brand.
Ultimately, it is behavior that drives reputation, not graphic design. But changing a logo is a hell of a lot easier than changing behavior, sad to say.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Ch-Ch-Changes
Since I took some shots at Drake University's D+ marketing campaign, I figure it was only fair to let everyone see what Robert Morris University's new brand campaign looks like. The official website is www.rmu.edu/changealife. You can also read about it at our agency's blog, here, and read coverage in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, here.
Thoughts?
Thoughts?
Friday, September 3, 2010
I give D+ a C
Drake University has raised some eyebrows with the logo for its new Drake Advantage campaign -- D+, which, for an academic institution, carries a bit of a bad connotation:
Drake’s branding folks weren’t exactly seeking this reaction. When viewed in context, the “D+” is meant to be part of an equation, suggesting Drake + you equals something, well, awesome. That said, Drake officials aren’t running away from a campaign they say they knew was “edgy” for the very reasons some are now criticizing it.
“I’m not surprised by the buzz. Our intended audience loves it,” said Tom Delahunt, vice president of admission and student financial planning. “The 15- to 17-year-olds think it’s great. They get it, and I’m not surprised people are having a little fun with it too.” (link)
I give Drake credit for zeroing in on their target audience: perspective undergraduate students. Universities serve many constituencies, and their failure to prioritize those audiences is why so many institutions produce bland, boring marketing campaigns and confusing web sites. Colleges and universities also are very risk-averse, so Drake deserves kudos for going out on a limb. If it's testing well with the target audience, then who am I to complain?
That said, I'm not a fan of D+ or the larger campaign, at least what I've seen of it so far. According to the Inside Higher Ed article linked above, “'The D+ was not designed to stand alone or represent a grade. Instead, it was designed to be paired with prose and draw attention to the distinctive advantages of the Drake experience.'” But logos should not require an explanation. And other than the unorthodox choice of the logo, the web component of the campaign doesn't appear to convey anything that sets Drake apart from any other university. That's another great sin of university marketing campaigns -- they all look the same.
While I'm at it, it's a bit of a concern to me that faculty were caught by surprise when they learned of the campaign. We're gearing up to launch a new brand campaign soon where I work, and we've spent time sharing the details with large groups of faculty and staff. The reaction has been positive because the campaign reflects the university's distinctive culture, and while our target audience also is high school students (and those that influence them), the brand must speak to everything we do as an institution.
In other words, we live the brand.
Drake’s branding folks weren’t exactly seeking this reaction. When viewed in context, the “D+” is meant to be part of an equation, suggesting Drake + you equals something, well, awesome. That said, Drake officials aren’t running away from a campaign they say they knew was “edgy” for the very reasons some are now criticizing it.
“I’m not surprised by the buzz. Our intended audience loves it,” said Tom Delahunt, vice president of admission and student financial planning. “The 15- to 17-year-olds think it’s great. They get it, and I’m not surprised people are having a little fun with it too.” (link)
I give Drake credit for zeroing in on their target audience: perspective undergraduate students. Universities serve many constituencies, and their failure to prioritize those audiences is why so many institutions produce bland, boring marketing campaigns and confusing web sites. Colleges and universities also are very risk-averse, so Drake deserves kudos for going out on a limb. If it's testing well with the target audience, then who am I to complain?
That said, I'm not a fan of D+ or the larger campaign, at least what I've seen of it so far. According to the Inside Higher Ed article linked above, “'The D+ was not designed to stand alone or represent a grade. Instead, it was designed to be paired with prose and draw attention to the distinctive advantages of the Drake experience.'” But logos should not require an explanation. And other than the unorthodox choice of the logo, the web component of the campaign doesn't appear to convey anything that sets Drake apart from any other university. That's another great sin of university marketing campaigns -- they all look the same.
While I'm at it, it's a bit of a concern to me that faculty were caught by surprise when they learned of the campaign. We're gearing up to launch a new brand campaign soon where I work, and we've spent time sharing the details with large groups of faculty and staff. The reaction has been positive because the campaign reflects the university's distinctive culture, and while our target audience also is high school students (and those that influence them), the brand must speak to everything we do as an institution.
In other words, we live the brand.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
The Y and The Shack
Via @RickM, I discovered a blog post about the YMCA's decision to rebrand itself "The Y" in recognition of how the organization is known by the public:
The Y is branding the non-profit from the eyes of their consumers for the first time, which is tactically a smart move. Some may see the shortening of the brand name as a result of blogs, but organizations tend to use acronyms or initialisms to replace full names, mainly because they’re easier to remember. (Think HP, SYSCO, 3M, GM, IBM, and BMW. I’d bet no one outside Sysco refers to the company as Systems and Service Company.)
Viewed from that perspective, Radio Shack's move to recast itself as "The Shack" seems particularly lame. Has anyone ever said, "I'm going down to the Shack to pick up speaker wire"? I don't think so. A new name won't make people forget how outdated your stores are or how lousy your customer service is. Remember GM's quickly aborted campaign to stop referring to Chevrolet as Chevy? Pittsburghers, remember when University of Pittsburgh athletic director Steve Pederson decided he didn't want people to refer to the university as "Pitt" anymore?
The public had different ideas. I'm reminded of what my boss says -- Your brand is defined by how the outside world perceives you, not how you perceive yourself. Marketing and PR alone won't move the needle. You have to live your brand before you can talk about it.
The Y is branding the non-profit from the eyes of their consumers for the first time, which is tactically a smart move. Some may see the shortening of the brand name as a result of blogs, but organizations tend to use acronyms or initialisms to replace full names, mainly because they’re easier to remember. (Think HP, SYSCO, 3M, GM, IBM, and BMW. I’d bet no one outside Sysco refers to the company as Systems and Service Company.)
Viewed from that perspective, Radio Shack's move to recast itself as "The Shack" seems particularly lame. Has anyone ever said, "I'm going down to the Shack to pick up speaker wire"? I don't think so. A new name won't make people forget how outdated your stores are or how lousy your customer service is. Remember GM's quickly aborted campaign to stop referring to Chevrolet as Chevy? Pittsburghers, remember when University of Pittsburgh athletic director Steve Pederson decided he didn't want people to refer to the university as "Pitt" anymore?
The public had different ideas. I'm reminded of what my boss says -- Your brand is defined by how the outside world perceives you, not how you perceive yourself. Marketing and PR alone won't move the needle. You have to live your brand before you can talk about it.
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