Last year I blogged about Betfair's triumphant ambush marketing campaign at the Ryder Cup, where their ingenuity in employing trained birds of prey to display their messages made rival company Paddy Power's failed attempts to erect a giant 'hollywood style' sign on a neighbouring hillside look amateurish. Today, however, I am not so enamoured of the company's tactics, as I discover they have agreed a sponsorship deal with the UK women's beach volleyball team which will see QR codes printed on the backs of their bikini bottoms and punters encouraged to scan them to visit a special promotional website.
Andy Lulham from Betfair happily discusses what he considers a fantastic idea:
“There is huge interest in beach volleyball and we want to ensure that our advertising campaign is seen and remembered by as many sports-fans as possible. As far as we’re aware this is the first time QR codes have been used in in-play sports advertising and what better way to test its effectiveness than by putting them on one of the places that is likely to get photographed the most” (Source: Marketing Week ).
There is even the suggestion that this campaign might appear during the Olympic games (surely this would contravene the supposedly watertight sponsorship arrangements but I guess we'll have to see).
Indeed, every article I read in the media about this seems to suggest it is a fantastic idea. Am I, therefore, the only one who thinks this is the ultimate in degradation? Just when I thought we'd started to break down some of the attitudes that result in naturally beautiful women like Julia Roberts being airbrushed in a misleading make-up ad I find that no, nothing has changed. And the worst of it is, these sportswomen, elite athletes dedicated to reaching the top in their chosen field (or at least their governing body), appear to be complicit in it. Why, oh why, do we do it to ourselves? Well, clearly there are likely to be financial pay-offs for any commercial sponsorship deal, which begs the question of whether the sport is funded well enough if players have to resort to such deals in order to make a living.
I know what you're thinking (well some of you anyway), get off your high horse, it's just a bit of fun. Well, maybe it is, but how about sexual objectification (by both women and men)? How about unrealistic examples of perfection? How about rape, sexual assault, domestic violence, self-harm, eating disorders? Are they fun? No, they're not fun, and however dramatic this sounds it's my personal belief that they're all likely to be more prevalent in a society where sexual objectification is considered acceptable by all gender groups.
I have no wish to oversimplify what is, quite clearly, a complex web of economic and social issues. But I will make it clear that I believe it's not just women being treated badly here, it's a cross-gender problem, and something we all seem quite happy to participate in in one way or another. What a shame we can't have more self-respect, and what a shame Betfair and Beach Volleyball have had to resort to 'sex sells' to get some column inches. Come on you creative marketers, surely you can do better than that...
What a summer it has been so far. I'm sure the media would have been glad to have something to write about this 'silly season', if only the story wasn't about them...
Whatever you think about the sequence of events sparked off by the revelation of phone-hacking practices at the News of the World, there has been no getting away from either the scandal itself, or the seemingly endless web of questionable behaviour surrounding it that has emerged in recent weeks. The police service, senior business people, the media and even the government have been implicated in a sequence events that has certainly caused me to question the integrity of those at the heart of our democracy, and I wonder if it has done the same for you?
It's this integrity that we rely on as individuals to maintain the foundations of our 'civilised ' society, so what happens when we discover that those foundations are insecure, unstable and being compromised?
Well it's my view that the very cornerstone of this is trust, and when trust disappears in any relationship, whether it is personal, professional, or with those in authority the resulting initial reactions tend to manifest as a range of negative emotions and actions which may include anger, fear, violence, disappointment, despondency and self-protection. In a society where there is a distrust of those we collectively place in positions of authority (through the electoral process) and furthermore a distrust of those appointed to positions of responsibility and trusted by our elected officials to act in the best interests of this society, democracy itself is under threat. This is the position we find ourselves in today.
I liken this situation to the famous (and rather cruel) experiment in quantum mechanics devised by physicist Edwin Schrodinger in the 1930s where a cat is placed in a sealed steel box and through a process related to the 50:50 likelihood of the decay of a radioactive atom over the period of 1 hour a poison may or may not be released into the box, resulting in either the death of the cat or its survival (see the video at the end of this blog for more). Is the cat dead? We don't know until we open the box do we? So, is it dead or alive when it's in the box? Is it either until we know for sure? Can we just accept that we don't know?
The same could be said for our individual understanding of the political, economic and justice systems within our own country. We have been living with our own steel box, not knowing what's inside, for a long, long time. Going about our daily business, relatively unconcerned with the possibility of what could be going on in there; happy in our belief that the democratic cat could be alive and living quite happily in its secure little home. What the phone-hacking scandal has done is prise open the box and force us to look inside to finally discover that actually, the cat is dead.
So, what happens next? When you find out the ugly truth you had been hiding from for so long? When forced to, you have to deal with it, and this is what our society (on both a local and global scale) is trying to make sense of at the moment.
I believe we are starting to see the consequences of this loss of trust play out in all sorts of ways and in all sorts of places, on both a global and local scale. For example, we have seen the financial markets once again lose confidence in recent weeks as the US dithered and bickered over its debt crisis, and the 'emerging' superpowers, quite rightly, questioned their ability to keep their house in order. Add to this the Mediterranean meltdowns in Greece, Italy and Spain, and you've got a new depth of economic crisis which will leave no nation untouched. The economy runs on confidence, and confidence is built on trust. So, when trust is removed in one part of public life, it affects all elements of public life, including the economy.
This level of instability and lack of confidence is clearly worrying people as it shakes our social norms and beliefs to the core, and forces us to question the capability of those in whom we place our trust. But I'd argue it is necessary; it's right that we should question those who lead, it's right that we should take an active interest in how our society is governed and run, and it's right that our voices should be heard in a democracy as these are the very principles on which our society claims to be built (although I in no way support the violent action undertaken by some protesters). But we've all grown so sluggish, apathetic and drugged up on easy credit and the comforting sugar-rush of conspicuous consumption, that we've forgotten how to take part, act, have our say.
There will, undoubtedly, be a rocky period ahead while go through our own little 'cold-turkey' process, but it can only be for the good of our democracy in the long run. Activism and a renewed interest in politics and the role of the media, the examination of our own roles in building these towers of Babel, and a sense of responsibility for the impacts of our personal roles as actors in the economy are all possible positive consequences of this crisis.
Success is a funny thing isn't it? Everyone seems to want it. I certainly do (in my own way), and perhaps you do too?
Come on, admit it, you want to be successful in life as much as anyone else does. But what is success exactly? My definition is likely to be very different from yours, unless we locate it in its abstract sense of the cognitive and emotional outcomes of success (things like a sense of achievement, happiness, security; Maslow territory).
However, there are certain individuals whom I'm sure many of us would agree to consider successful on the basis that they have achieved high status within a particular profession, discipline or area of activity. Political figures, artists, sportspeople, business people etc. etc.
My thinking on this was sparked by an article on the BBC website this morning which attempts to unpick and explain the success of the Freud family following the recent death of the painter Lucian Freud. This one family has produced a disproportionate number of individuals who have made an impact on culture and society; from Sigmund's difficult childhood emerged a thinker who gained international notoriety (with, notably, an approach that advocated the encouragement of independent thought in children), and successive generations of the Freud family have consistently achieved highly acclaimed positions in the arts and politics. So, is this all down to 'good genes'? Or are there other factors, such as Sigmund's nurturing of independent thought, at play?
Well, we can certainly identify many great dynasties in influential fields such as politics and the arts (the Kennedys and the Redgraves being obvious examples) which might suggest that family has some influence, but there are, equally, many others who achieve wonderful feats without a family name. So, does it help to have the name tag? I can't help but think it does in one area in particular - and this may sound obvious, but it's in the achievement of fame.
There is clearly a combination of social, economic, genetic and cultural capital that the Freud family have (to continue the example), and to which others may not have access. I believe this makes them more likely to achieve celebrated positions - and I say celebrated positions advisedly, because I do not necessarily equate celebrity with success. Having a famous ancestor or family member is, I believe, more likely to make you famous, but your own definition of success would have to be located in celebrity for this to equal the achievement of it. Bianca Gascoigne, for example, is a young woman who has appeared on numerous reality TV shows without apparently having achieved significance in any particular field. Why? Because the ex-footballer Paul Gascoigne is her father. Does this make her successful? If she defines the particular kind of celebrity status she has gained as success, then yes. For me, however, this is not success, it's just fame through nepotism. As with most things in life, it really is all down to your personal view, and the realisation that your view is likely to be very different from the views of others.
Social capital (when you consider it in terms of the connections you have), is of course going to enable those who have it to be in the running for positions to which others may not have access, whether that's a booking for a reality TV show or an internship at an organisation in the field you want to be in (I'm deliberately not touching on acceptance into educational institutions here...). However, there are very few people who can get away with poor performance in a field which requires skill and/or talent for too long. Prince William was born into privilege, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't let him fly a Sea King rescue helicopter unless he knew what he was doing...at least I hope not...
So, is there nepotism involved in achieving the most senior positions in our society? Yes, probably.
Does it matter? Well, it annoys the hell out of me when it means that talented people don't have the opportunity to make the world better. But fame? No thanks. It's not compatible with my 'live light, learn lots, then pass it on' definition of success...
I'd decided to stay away from the phone-hacking scandal here, simply because everyone else is saying so much and saying it so well that it seemed unnecessary to add to the outpouring of outrage. However, today's full page ads in the national press, paid for by Murdoch, and with the message 'We are sorry', have tempted me into some comment on the whys and wherefores of this move.
I'm not so interested in the timing (the day after two of his most senior executives resigned), or the overall motivations (damage limitation), but I am interested in the choice of medium and method. Why take out full page ads in competitor papers? Is this just a reflex action for someone in the newspaper business? Well, clearly newspaper readers are an important target market for Murdoch, so it would make sense to reach them in this way, and by having a presence in the other papers there is at least an element of 'having his say' when all others are criticising his company. It strikes me, however, that there is also an element here of the dinosaur, doing what it has always done and ignoring the meteoric changes to media practices and culture that have made it possible for this scandal to emerge from the murk of the newsmedia's underworld.
Yes, Nick Davies at The Guardian played an enormous role in bringing this all to light, but it was through social media, citizen journalists, and the sheer weight of public opinion - opinion that can now be expressed, published and disseminated freely and easily - that the story gained enough momentum to bring down the News of the World. Murdoch has largely ignored this, and instead focused his efforts on the press.
The decision to buy advertising space sums up this dinosaur attitude for me. The very idea that you can buy your way to forgiveness, that in fact you can buy anything you want, smacks of the worst kind of hubris. In a world where so much information is freely available and shared online, this approach seems a desperate attempt to maintain control through the channels Murdoch knows. He is, quite simply, out of touch, and is also, quite rightly, in danger of extinction.
The other niggling question I have, however, is one for those who are generally thought to have high ethical standards. Should newspapers like The Guardian have sold him the space? And, if so, where should the money go? Ethics in the media is an issue for everyone, not just today's whipping boy...
I went to the shops this morning ( I have the day off), and on my way back passed a pharmacy with a poster in the window promoting, I don't know, health insurance or something similar; it really wasn't clear (fail #1). Anyway, the poster artwork showed a cartoon character that looked like a cross between Sponge Bob Square Pants (21st century cultural icon that he is) and a chipstick (the 1980s oil-drenched, reconstituted crisp product) walking on a tightrope and proclaiming 'Life is a risky business!'
Clearly in terms of salience, this piece of marketing communication worked as it certainly stood out, but I started to wonder about the copy (as I do) and realised that it was utterly meaningless. If life is a risky business, what does that make death? The cushy, low-risk option? I don't think so. You're either alive or you're not. That's all there is (you may, of course, have other beliefs which are as valid as mine, but I'm going to follow my own instinct here). The riskiness of life is dependent on being alive as its condition. If you die, well what's the risk there? Maybe this polarisation (or this kind of existential analysis) wasn't what the advertiser had in mind...
So, why does this stuff work on consumers? It's a typical example of how phrases that have, in essence, no logical or reasonable sense permeate our language and take on a life of their own. They exist with a meaning beyond the logical interpretation of their words through sheer force of usage. What a wonderful language English is.
To go back to the example in question, I've since Googled 'Life is a risky business' and there are around a quarter of a million instances. Maybe not huge in Google terms, but significant. So maybe there is some meaning in there for some, if not all, people.
My hunch (and it is mere speculation) is that this particular phrase implicitly denies the possibility of death by presenting life as something enduringly risky. Oh, it's a risky business to be in, this life thing, it suggests, as though it were a daily choice we make. Do you ask yourself each morning... 'Do I stay in this life business or maybe try something else? I wonder what that death stuff is like?'
Maybe you do...and excuse me if I get all morbid on you, but it's words like those in this ad that we love because they falsely protect us from acknowledging our mortality. In an increasingly secular and consumer society, we look to businesses for our reassurance and comfort, and what's more comforting than a nice little protective bubble? That's what this company is offering - protection against risk in this life, based on the assumption that you never really have to die anyway.
Panorama's recent investigation of the impact of direct mail and particularly what they call 'spam mail' on society, the economy and the environment, raised a hugely complex series of issues and questions for politicians, the police and servie providers - but what issues does it raise for marketers?
Clearly there are ethical questions concerning the sending of inappropriate, misleading or downright fraudulent marketing communications (and issues that aren't confined to direct mail I might add, having received a shockingly disingenuous cold call to my mobile from Carphone Warehouse yesterday). These questions need answering, and although there are not necessarily clear boundaries for all aspects of marketing communications activity, we do at least have some legal and self-regulatory measures in place (including codes of practice such as the CAP code, and the professional codes put in place by bodies such as the IDM). However, one area where the marketing profession does not seem to have really grasped the nettle is that of sustainable use of resources in marketing activity, and it's about time we did.
Ethical, sustainable, green, environmentally friendly are all words marketers are encouraged to consider in developing propositions for products and services, but how many of us are really engaging with the ethical questions that the practice of marketing raises? Distracted by the glamour of technology and the buzz of social media in particular, it seems to me that many marketers are ignoring what Al Gore might call the 'Inconvenient Truth' that the marketing practices of many companies ride roughshod over the reduce, reuse, recycle mantra and have seemingly ignored some of the opportunities to rethink the way we 'do' marketing in a world with dwindling resources.
The irony is that the answer to many of our problems may be in the very technology we cleave to in order to avoid thinking about the impact of our consumptive actions, as it offers us new ways of delivering messages to existing and potential customers, new ways of engaging them and interacting with them. So, if you're in anyway involved in marketing or producing print materials of any kind, I urge you to, at the very least, just ask yourself the question: 'Do I need to print everything?' Will your target audience really only interact with what hits their doormat? Or, are there other, less resource-intensive ways to get your message across?
There are, of course, many counter arguments. Is the electricity used to keep our PCs and Macs buzzing any less draining than paper use? How can marketers reconcile sustainability with their responsibility for the efficacy of their activities? As the IDM will tell you, direct mail is undoubtedly effective in the right context, but have we really tried all the other options? The options that are multiplying rapidly online? It takes a brave marketer to ditch what you know works and try something new, but if no-one does it, if no-one takes that risk, that leap, how will we ever know?
I have been known to say that marketing is all about trying things to see what works and what doesn't. Marketing as science? Well no, not exactly; I'm not a fan of the overly analytical approach either, I prefer to go with instinct (but that's another blog..). It's about getting a balance between being agile enough to spot an opportunity and take it (through original thought and quick action), but realistic enough to not throw good money after bad.
So, with that in mind I ask you to take a little step back and look at what you do, how you do it, and the resources you use. Think about the savings you could make; think about the impact on the earth's resources, whatever it takes to get you thinking. Yes, you might have a lot to lose if it all goes wrong, but at least you'll know it was for a good cause ;)
Yesterday it occurred to me to wonder why we use the phrase 'content is king' when we don't have a king? Why not 'content is queen'? I pondered. The nice alliterative 'cuh' still works, and we do have a pretty robust monarch to give the phrase the emphasis intended.
Clearly there's a whole power, gender, culture question that could be pursued here...at length...with much lamentation over the feminist cause etc. but to be honest, I don't think that would get us anywhere, so I'm not going to bother.
Instead I'm going to work with 'content is queen' and, never one to miss the opportunity for a good analogy, I'm going to see where it gets us if we consider our beloved (by some) royal family as a metaphor for the creation of 'good' stuff on the web. Whatever you think about the royal family (and I have to say I'm pretty ambivalent towards them - tourism/charity/morale impact = good, heredity and entitlement = bad; i.e. it's complicated), it's clear that they're on something of a roll at the moment. Weddings, jubilees, sporting prowess and military heroism, it's all a far cry from a decade ago when the queen declared 1992 her 'annus horribilis'.
So, I'm going to guess that you're now wondering what on earth the monarchy has to do with web content? Well, in literal terms of course they are the subject of a great deal of online communication/publication, but they also work quite well as a metaphor for what I believe to be the cornerstones of what makes for really good stuff on the web - content and style. So, if you're sitting comfortably, I'll explain...
Content is Queen
OK, let's start with the queen. She is, after all, the boss of the old firm, and for me, she represents the very core of what the royal family is about and what web content should be about - quality. Credible, single-minded and clear sighted, she's the bedrock of our monarchy, just as really good quality content is what should underpin anything that you publish via the web. Do a good job, put in the effort, be creative, be original. However, good content isn't enough, you also need to package it and get it out there. That's where Kate comes in...
Style is the Duchess of Cambridge
I defy you to dislike her...*
Oh, they've backed the right horse here (to speak the royal lingo, and not, of course to imply any horse-like resemblance in Kate). Kate Middleton is the perfect new royal - beautiful, stylish, and seemingly without airs. She's a natural, and provides a much-needed counterpoint to the queen and her daughter. Appearing on her first tour as a member of the family in Canada, she has presented herself impeccably - right down to the choice of Canada's national colours in her dress, and it's all done with subtlety and charm. Forgive me if this seems gushing, I'm normally a raging cynic, but I really can't help but like her; in fact I defy you to try. And, like it or not, style is important on the web. The way you package up and present your content will determine whether it gets a second glance. Even if you have the most insightful things to say, if it doesn't look inviting no one is going to read it. (Yes, I am aware that I may be standing in a glass house throwing stones here - forgive me.)
So there you go, the royal dream team; but I do wonder if there is something missing from the equation - a communicator. If you create great content, and make it look fantastic, you can post it on the web, but who will see it unless you get out there and shout about it? Success on the social web is as much dependent on the sharing and distribution of content as it is on the content itself. Maybe the royal family don't have to work too hard on this any more. They have a brand everyone wants to know about and the media are happy to spread the message for them; but what about you and I? Who's going to be our royal correspondent? Well, unless we pay an agency to do the legwork for us (at the risk of a lack of authenticity) it's up to us to do our own. So, what do you have to do? Simple. Just connect with people, comment on their content, tweet them, write on their wall, say hello. Just the normal stuff people in a community, we commoners, do...
So, my analogy is broken, but it was good while it lasted. Maybe I should have stuck with the gender thing...
Oh, and thanks to @lizardjones for inspiring this with a query that got my cogs turning.
