Inception Made Easy

I saw 'Inception' last night. What a joke! Only in Hollywood could something simple as planting an idea in someone's brain turn into a 2-hour action/adventure flick.

I mean, honstly. Even allowing for hyperbole and poetic licence, 2 hours to plant one idea in one person's unconscious? Commerce would grind to a halt if it was really that difficult. And all that dream nonsense. In reality, we flood people's unconscious with ideas their every waking moment.

This brilliant video by none other than Derren Brown is a superlative example of real world Inception and it's only 6 minutes and 40 seconds in length.

Come to think of it, 6 minutes and 40 seconds in reality is about 2 hours in dream time. I didn't just dream I saw 'Inception'...did I?

 

 

 

Posted via email from Plastic Spoon's Posterous

Is it a consumer insight?

 

I was shamed by their good will and mortified by their cooking. There seemed to be some correlation between devotion to God and a misguided zeal for marshmallows.

- David Sedaris, c.o.g.

Thank the Muses for correlation. Planners, strategists and statisticians alike all preach ad nauseam that correlation and causation are not even mathematical distant cousins. A, however, client once put me in my place with a pithy truth on the topic: 'Correlation may not prove causation, but it's something!' My client, of course, was absolutely correct: correlation does not prove causation, but correlation damn sure is something. And not only is it something but, truth be told, correlation is mostly what we look for when we pour through pivot tables of cross-tabulated behavioral, demographic and purchasing behavior.

Put another way, not only is correlation most definitely something, but that something might very well be a sound customer insight about a targetable segment.

Davis Sedaris' claimed correlation about religious faith and marshmallow culinary ingenuity is easy to test. All one need do is create a two question survey - possibly even one question - devise a random sampling strategy and stand outside churches, temples and mosques following regularly scheduled services. The sampling strategy might be weighted towards interviewing women, who tend to be the household member responsible for food shopping and meal preparation. To be thorough, a representative sampling of zip codes might be covered so that demographic information can be layered atop the survey data to explore whether or not this alleged marshmallow moxie also extended into geographic location, educational level, and household income.

A similar study could even more easily be conducted via telephone by adding a screening survey on the topic of religious faith and a sampling strategy to yield a representative sampling of the entire United States population.

If the Sedaris correlation bore fruit the correlation between faith, marshmallows, and demographics could easily lead to a sound marketing strategy that included targeted messaging, product development (marshmallows that melt at specific temperatures for specific recipes, marshmallows mixed with different spices), and product extensions (Beyond Smores and Marshmallow Pie - The Complete Marshmallow Cookbook). 

Consumer insight? Yes!

Actionable? Most definitely!

Causation? Totally irrelevant!

Which brings us to the Harvard Business Review's Daily Stat of July 16:

• Blondes earn 7% more than brunettes
• Men blond women wed earn an average of 6% more than the husbands of women with other hair colors

Consumer insight? Almost. 

To take these data points and turn them into a proper, actionable consumer insight about a targetable audience for, say, a women's beauty product we would first have to determine how propensed non-blond women are to change the color of their hair either to increase their salaries, or to marry wealthier men.

Testing here is not as straight forward as testing the Sedaris correlation. To be thorough, several difficult-to-identify groups would have to be recruited: employers of at least two women where one of those women is blond and one is not; men married to blonds; men not married to blonds; and, of course, non-blond women.

Though testing could be limited only to the non-blond women group to save time and money, this direction would ignore the secondary market of men married to non-blond women who want to encourage their wives to dye their hair blond to give the appearance of a 6% higher salary.

Complicating the research even more is the fact that answers to questions on such topics as men's taste in women, income, and the lengths to which women are willing to go to make themselves appealing to men are prone to inaccuracy. But all of these risks can be minimized through rigor and methodology. In short, the study is very doable.

If ever there was a time for the women's beauty industry to take up arms against the perpetual accusations of deliberately distorting womens' collective self-image to create an insatiable demand for their products, that time is now! Right there, in the HBR no less, are two statistical data points that speak directly to quantifiable and positive effects that beauty products can have on the lives of consumers, and those effects are far more quantifiable and positive than those of virtually any other product gather dust on CVS and 7-11 shelves.

So let the testing begin! And let it reveal truths about our nature, self-image, shared values, and other deeper mysteries of the human animal.

[NOTE: Special thanks to Julie Salles, who served as wardrobe, stylist and model in the photo above, and who is first and foremost a fine photographer in her own right.]

Posted via email from Plastic Spoon's Posterous

The very Western privacy myth.

The fantastic NYT: Facebook Privacy: A Bewildering Tangle of Options info graphic above was probably among the most widely user syndicated items today.

As this debate rages on, we must remember that the idea of privacy - the very concept itself - is a uniquely Western mental construct, not a universally accepted state of being.

In many Asian and Eastern-European languages there is no word that describes the concept of privacy¹. There is an every evolving body of case law on the topic in the US, but there is no right to privacy in the US Constitution, and the interpretation of what privacy is varies by US Appellate Court District.

Privacy, and the risks associated with a lack thereof, are in the cultural eye of the Facebook beholder.

Like free will, our belief in privacy may be necessary for our survival. But but the mental constructs we create for our psychic health are not proof of their existence.

Posted via web from Plastic Spoon's Posterous

Data + Social Media = the CRM Holy Grail

Social media has been all over the New York times lately. The article that most caught my interest was not about social media per se, but rather about the self-tracking trend and entitled 'The Data-Driven Life.'

The instincts to collect data, to share, and to create stories and experiences to fill in the gaps in our knowledge are deep seeded. These instincts date back to cave drawings, Greek bards, etc. But there are also more recent and relevant historical examples. 

Photo sharing, for example, did not start w/ Flickr, the web, or even with the pre-web internet. It began in 1905 with the proliferation of pocket cameras and a change in postal regulations that allowed cards with photographs on the outside to be delivered via post. At that time, people would shoot pictures, develop postcards in their own darkrooms in low quantities, and share them via snail mail w/ their friends. It wasn't until a generation had passed that postcards were commoditized into mass-produced visual platitudes. In short, postcards were an analog form of social media. 

In 17th-18th century Europe, it was very common for individuals not only to publish memoirs - analog, ex post facto blogs - but also to publish their personal observations (ie their data) on everything from health and history to fad and fashion. And these books were not at all like books today. For one thing, they had titles like:

• 'A true and faithful narrative of what passed in London on a Rumor of the Day of Judgment,' and 
• 'They Key of the Cabinet of the Chevalier Joseph Francis Borri, in which are contained many curious Letters upon Chemistry and other Sciences, written by him, together with a Memoir of his Life,' and of course the famous and indispensable 
• 'Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds' written in two volumes beginning in 1841 by Charles Mackay, and from which the above-referenced titles are drawn. 

Unlike the relative rarity of being published today (meaning published in hardcopy by a major publisher and widely distributed by one of the 4 major book sellers), it was relatively easy to be published in the 17th and 18th centuries and everyone who thought they had a new idea was doing it. And the titles were deliberately more akin to key word clouds than to the pithy, marketing-driven titles of today. (How else to find what you're looking for in an analog search?) 

To tie this back CRM and social media loyalty programs and to jump back once more to the 17th century, absent medical data people were susceptible to such brand stories as Alchemy and Magnetism - the latter of which blossomed into a veritable craze by the person I consider to be the Father of Experiential Marketing, Franz Mesmer. Despite the vestigial belief in Magnetism that exists to this day (http://www.magnetictherapymagnets.com) most people are more likely to believe their doctor (or Google Health) than they are a TV and OOH campaign about Magnetism - ie they're trending towards trusting data more than being mesmerized by unsupported messaging - (pun intended). 

Behavior modification is the Holy Grail of CRM, and it is a widely known phenomenon that people are most apt change their behavior when presented with ongoing feedback. The fact that people are keeping such meticulous data about themselves and sharing that data in their social media spaces opens the door to customized and mutually beneficial retention and loyalty programs that could not have been imagined even a year ago. 

Posted via web from Plastic Spoon's Posterous

What's in a Game?

As I mentioned in my rambling 'Random observations about China' entry, the Chinese have their own form of hacky sack that is played with what at first looks like a weighted badminton birdie. I wasn't able to upload the video from China, but it is now viewable here.

The Chinese hacky sack game is not played by young people, but rather by the 40+ age group. As explained to me by an acquaintance from Guangzhou (where this video was taken), the feet are the first part of the body to age so people play hacky sack to keep their feet in shape.

What intrigued me most about the game is how much it revealed about the local culture.

• The game is noncompetitive. There is no way to score points, no tricks are performed that call attention to any one player, there are no standings or handicaps, etc.
• The cost of entry is minimal. A good birdie (and there really are good and bad ones) cost about as much as a soda and sandwich.
• Little space is needed to play. No need to reserve a court, lug your clubs through the back nine, pay for an alley, etc - not to mention the fact that space is quite a luxury in a country roughly the same size as the US but home to 20% of the world's population. (The US, by comparison, is home to approximately 5% of the world's population).
• Games form spontaneously. While many came in groups, the majority of players drifted in and out of the game circles as time and stamina allowed. When my son and I did our best to play, we were often joined by other players who were quick to give us impromptu lessons.

Exercise in the US tends to come in three flavors: 1) the wretched chore; 2) the fanatic's fix; 3) the heated competition. Not since I was a child had I experienced the joy of exercise as unadulterated play.

Posted via web from Plastic Spoon's Posterous

I dreamed of Clifford Geertz last night.

I dreamed of Clifford Geertz last night, and in this dream he revealed to me the whole of human existence stripped of our webs of significance. Thusly laid bare, that which remained was a multifaceted game board on which was perched a perpetual motion machine of brightly colored beads tracing intricate and meaningless patterns ad infinitum.

Posted via web from Plastic Spoon's Posterous

Branding with Lidia Bastianich

After my introduction to XM Radio's Muzak station on my way to JFK Thursday morning followed by the ritualistic airport security strip-down and boarding cattle call, at long last I sunk into my window seat, 'The Crying of Lot 49' on my lap. 

 

There was an aura on the plane that was just altogether wrong for an early-morning business flight. Everyone was energized and seemed to be signaling to each other with subtle looks and gestures, communicating in a silent, sublime language I did not know. Clearly I was on the outside of some inside joke making its way around the cabin. 

 

When the woman seated next to me arrived, she was kind enough to ask if the carry-on she stowed beneath the seats in front of us was bothering me. The question, I feared, was the part of the cabin-wide inside joke being perpetrate on me. Clearly she was in on it. 

Then began the perplexing parade. One after another, people boarded, paused by our aisle in deference to the woman next to me, and then proceeded in perfect single file to their assigned seats. There were hugs and handshakes, smiles and giggles, all peppered with intimate pleasantries exchanged in Italian. 

When at last we pushed back, the kind woman next to me dozed off while reading ‘The New York Times.’ I promptly turned on my reading lamp, opened my book, and fell fast asleep for the next hour. 

 

It was not until I awoke that I took notice of something familiar in my aisle-mate's face. Though I had never seen it as I was seeing it now - bespectacled and in profile - I was seated next to a dozing Lidia Bastianich! 

 

There was no inside joke. Rather, I was the outsider seated amidst a tribe of chefs and the tribal leader was right next to me. 

 

The account planner in me was shocked into vigilance, my flight transformed into a clinical testing environment. I was both test subject and object. 

 

The objective of the study: To observe the effect celebrities (branded people) have on the behavior and attitudes of their fans (their brand loyalists). 

 

Observations: 

1. Lidia’s presence spontaneously caused me to evaluate my physical appearance. 

• I was dressed in what I’ve come to call my 'agency uniform - jacket and dress shirt over blue jeans. I consciously deemed my attire appropriate for the occasion. 
• I was deeply satisfied when I noticed the specular highlights in my shoes. 
• I happen to be wearing French cuffs and I was conscious of a desire that Lidia would take notice of, but not comment on this fashion detail. 
• When I went to the men’s room, I noticed that the left side of my collar was awry, and was relieved that Lidia was seated to my right. 
• I was unshaven, but unconcerned as I felt this made me look more European. 

2. Under normal circumstances I might be between 30% - 50% propensed to engage in conversation with someone seated next to me on a flight. Lidia’s presence in the next seat increased my propensity to 100%.

 

3. My conversation was singular in its purpose: to convince Lidia that I had a personal connection to her, to demonstrate to this branded person that I was brand loyal. 

~

In the aggregate, this behavior is attributable to a single need on the part of the test subject: to convince the tribe leader that he was worthy of tribal membership.

After I introduced myself, our conversation focused almost exclusively on my tribal credentials: how my wife - Italian and Irish I made a point of emphasizing - had introduced both my me and my son to ‘Lidia’s Italy; my wife’s family of five children, serious cooks all; the fights she and her siblings have had over gravy and tomato sauce; the picture I have of my son making his first tomato sauce at the age of four. Clearly, this was my rite of passage and I didn’t want to screw it up. 

 

The experience left me thinking about the idea of ‘earned brand membership’ and how important this idea is to a brand. It is this that an iPod more than an MP3 player, a Rolex (or Swatch) more than a time piece, Starbucks more than coffee, a Hugo Boss sweater more than a garment to guard against cold. Put another way, it is tribal membership that makes a product into a brand.

Posted via web from Plastic Spoon's Posterous

Corn Whiskey, Highways & Hypodermic Needles

It was 'The Drunken Hiccups' and a night's sleep that brought it all together for me - the connection between 'The Crying of Lot 49' and account planning.

Certain artistic expressions - literary, musical, visual - pierce the tapestry of reason through which our perception is filtered.

Clifford Geertz in 'The Interpretation of Cultures' alluded to the same phenomenon more eloquently: '[M]an is an animal suspended in webs of significance he himself as spun.'

Getting further into 'The Crying of Lot 49' I came across the following passage:

In the early '60's a Yoyodyne executive living near L.A. and located someplace in the corporate root-system above supervisor but below vice-president, found himself, at age 39, automated out of a job. Having been since age 7 rigidly instructed in an eschatology that pointed nowhere but to a presidency and death, trained to do absolutely nothing but sign his name to specialized memoranda he could not begin to understand and to take blame for the running-amok of specialized programs that failed for specialized reasons he had to have explained to him, the executive's first thoughts were naturally of suicide. But previous training getting the better of him: he could not make the decision without first hearing the ideas of a committee. [Emphasis added.]

Brilliant in its hyperbole, Thomas Pynchon describes a man who has progressed from begin suspended in his webs of significance to the point of being paralyzed by them. He cannot see beyond the possibilities of his own experience - beyond the experiential connections of his limited web. He cannot expand his vision to the larger cultural web of which his personal web is both a subset and a byproduct. He would take his own life but for the limitations of his personal web, which does not include a silk stand leading in the direction of the risks and joys of decision making.

There is a huge winter storm that is supposed to hit NY tomorrow, but I will not be camped out the woods somewhere with my camera in gloved hand. Rather, I'll be getting to JFK two hours prior to my 8AM flight to Miami to present the findings of a qualitative study we recently conducted. As a result, the silk strand between my professional and artistic life will grow even more tenuous. The much belabored point I'm making is that all of us who hold down jobs do so at the expense of limiting our personal webs.

This is where Pynchon's hypodermically-fed, urban American landscape and account planning come together. The herd behavior of urbanization is akin to a mass substitution of rural for metropolitan webs of cultural values. That is why I was so struck by the Pynchon quotation I referenced on February 22nd: because it is one of those artistic expressions that pierced my filter of reason and made me aware of the larger cultural webs of which my web is but a part.

And this is the essence of account planning: To recognize the limited webs most of us traverse and that result in recognizable, ritualistically repeated behavioral patterns, and then to inspire people (our customers) to alter their behavior by extend their personal webs to include the webs of our brands.

Put another way, planners must find ways to introduce what may be a foreign or even unwelcome element (our brand) into the well worn behavioral patterns of a herd (our customers) in ways that will inspire it to welcome our brand and make our brand part of their collective lives - to extend one of a gossamer strand of silk from the web that represent the sum total of a herd's significant life experiences to the unfamiliar web of our brand. If the web of our brand resonates with that of the herd, the silk strand will strengthen over time, and our customer's lives will be richer as a result.

Posted via web from Plastic Spoon's Posterous

What the Road Really Was & What Passes for Pain: Draft 1

"What the road really was, she fancied, was this hypodermic needle, inserted somewhere ahead into the vein of a freeway, a vein nourishing the mainliner L.A., keeping it happy, coherent, protected from pain, or whatever passes, within a city, for pain."

Who the hell writes like that? I mean who, other than an account planner, of course.

The city, a collective vision made manifest by sheer pluck and will, a beast we ourselves birthed all the while oblivious to the nature of our progeny.

When we were cast from The Garden, were we cast into urbanization? And if so, is urbanization a natural byproduct of being fertile, increasing in number, filling the earth and being its master?

No matter the behavioral model to which one subscribes, on the surface much of our behavior can be explained by the desire to maximize the joys and safety of our social groups. That said, urbanization must at least in part be an attempt to facilitate the joy and safety instincts. We live closer to to our social groups in cities which facilitates communication, indulging in mutual joys, as well as defending one another from outsiders.

But cities are more than the sum of the social groups that dwell within its borders. Cities themselves are beings with their own instinct for joy and protection. Consider the pride a city takes in cultivating a unique culture, touting its one-of-kind attractions, promoting its distinctive 'feel and energy.' Consider the autumnal World Series gladiators half of whom return to a hero's welcome, the other half to jeers of dishonor.

Urbanization is more than the byproduct of the maximization of joy and safety. There is a herd behavior at work that draws us to cities often at the expense of drawing us out of our safety zones. It's as if the architypes of the journey - Odysseus - have been replaced the architype of the city outsiders who overcomes the trials necessary to survive in the modern metropolis. It is always difficult for this hero, who inevitably faces affronts to his very moral fibre on which his urban survial depends.

And this is what passes for pain in the city, the choice between what is right, and what is urban. This pain is what runs through the hypodermic needle that feeds "into the vein of a freeway" that feeds into a city keeping it happy, keeping it content.

The quotation above is from Thomas Pynchon's 'The Crying of Lot 49' and this is a blog about account planning. I haven't quite figured out the connection yet, but I will in the coming weeks

 

Posted via web from plasticspoon01's posterous