HEAD BLOG

In an episode of Looney Tunes called One Froggy Evening, the frog’s owner/agent attempts to put on a show designed to bring the world to see the marvellous singing and dancing of his pet. It never happens. The frog never performs. Capable of amazing things in front of the hapless owner, the presence of a second witness renders it completely and utterly amphibian. The whole episode is a lesson in frustration to rival Beckett but this one particular sequence has other lessons.

Despite detailing the contents of the show (it’s a singing, dancing frog – isn’t that enough?) not a single person shows an interest. You’d think they would. It’s a testament to the creativity often found in classic Looney Tunes cartoons that even this expectation is trumped in order to prolong the anticipation. Faced with an empty auditorium but still determined to show the world he’s not a liar (and by this point even we are wondering whether this is some kind of dream) the owner places a placard outside the theatre doors with the legend “Free Entry”. He steps back to avoid the crowds.

But of course, none come.

The theatre remains empty and the frog continues is performance in solitude.

Undeterred, the owner replaces the placard with a new one saying “Free Beer”.

That does the trick. Crowds pour through the doors and, inevitably, the frog reverts to froggy status.

He is, of course, let down by his product but his methods are perfect. Knowing that he only had to get people through the door in order to make his fortune, the owner was a lesson in promotion. By knowing his customer, by adapting to his customer, he was able to put the bums on seats. He didn’t repeat what many would see to be the sales message. He didn’t stand and shout “but it’s a singing, dancing frog”. He adapted.

His only real mistake was in not ditching the frog and getting this in sooner.

In the car, early one morning, my friend told me his boss had been trying to persuade him not to retire next year. The boss explained that he had never had any complaints about that one plant (my friend loads aggregates, it’s typically a one person per plant job and you need to be everything from labourer to customer care manager).

So, no complaints. Not a single customer had to call in ten years to ask where their concrete was.

The boss said he wished he had more people like my friend and asked why he was so different to every other plant manager in the group.

My friend explained that he lived by a simple tagline (he didn’t use that term) which was ‘deliver the promise’. If a customer had been promised a load and my friend was running late then the customer still received it as promised, even if it meant working late (and loads are never, unlike taxis, promised as being just around the corner).

My friend is one of those people, rare in my experience, who pose a real problem to management. They are indispensable in their current roles but would be invaluable ‘higher up’ in a training or management role.

Such a simple philosophy can underpin any other brand. I’m writing this whilst stood across the platform from a billboard proclaiming NatWest’s charter commitments as they make promises (I wish they were different promises really but that’s a separate matter) which presumably they will deliver.

Advertising can sometimes be an attempt to make something from nothing, an attempt to hoodwink the consumer into buying something they do not need (or at least desire). ‘Deliver the promise’ is the antidote to this. It cuts through to the core of what any brand should be offering and enables campaigns to be bold and uncynical knowing that what they are selling will deliver the promise of reliability, genuine interest, comfort – whatever it is the product has set out to do.

A kitchen gadget, the sort we all buy, might therefore, through a deliver the promise strategy, be designed to genuinely change the way we peel or slice rather than being discarded after a few tries.

My friend has promised to retire next year. I’d hope his company wishes that this one time, it’s a promise he doesn’t deliver.

Recently I’ve been writing a few short stories for a website run by Tom Mason. The conceit is that each story must be sparked off by an image and be no more than 330 words long.

It’s a great format for me because with it I can say something quickly without running into the issues of structure I’d face with something longer.

I do, however, periodically consider whether what I’m writing can be classed as “story” at all.

In fact, the definition of “story” is something we all wrestle with at Head First because it is integral to creating strong and effective advertising.

The difficulty I have with my 330 word stories lies in the difference between a story and a concept. Is it possible to relate a story in so few words? Or does the reduction render it to a concept?

It’s easier to see when you reduce the word count even further. To, say, 140 characters. One guy tweets very short stories which come across more as outlines (or perhaps poems) than stories.

You could argue, of course, that anything can be a story. If I write something like:

“She lived. She cried. She died.”

You get a sense of narrative. You get a classic beginning, middle and end. Even the choice of words plays a part. “Lived” is more emotive than “was alive” because it suggests more than the simple act of existing, of breathing. And by starting it that way, I set the scene for the tragedy that follows. The reader might arrive at their own conclusions but it is clear that the woman’s situation is a result of her having “lived”.

So that could be described as a story.

Except it isn’t. Not in the more traditional way.

For that, you need more flesh on the bones for story to occur.

My personal jury is out on the 330 word stories. Perhaps they are something different. Certainly they are something exciting (to write at least).

What is clear, however, is the lesson they contain for advertising. Because by challenging my understanding of story, they make me challenge the story of advertising.

Whether I’m writing a two word ad or advertising through social media the lesson remains. I must ask myself what story am I trying to tell.

For the two word ad I must work to ensure the experience, through the combined efforts of text and imagery, is sufficiently satisfying as to provide a story.

Because stories are how experiences are related and relationships formed.

And that’s a way to ensure advertising is effective at the deepest level.

I’ve a lot of time for Open Source. I’ve a lot of time for standards and protocols. Yet when it comes to advertising, the attacks on Flash have me worried.

The reason isn’t that I want to see Adobe continue to dominate the market, I don’t.

I don’t even care whether Flash gets adopted by every smart phone around.

I care because the debate over Flash vs HTML5 focusses on technology, not ideas.

Taking a look at how an iAd is created I have to say that I’m worried. Worried that these will take more manpower to produce, which makes them more expensive, or that they will be more limited because of their complexity.

And let’s just look at that word: complexity.

I use it in the sense of how easily certain functions in web advertising can be achieved. Flash is guilty of this also of course. The change from Action Script 2 to Action Script 3 has had the effect of making certain functions more complex. I look at some web ads and ask myself where the need for Action Script 3 is.

In the same way I ask where the need for style sheets is.

It all just increases complexity.

And that’s when we begin to focus on the wrong details.

Invariably the ideas get pushed back as the gap between coder and creative widens.

Maybe that’s the cost of freedom and certainly in the world of enabling information to a wide audience and retaining control of our data that all seems good and worthwhile. But in the world of advertising it’s not the same. I’d rather see a static ad with a well designed message than let the technology lead. Flash, for all its flaws, has two things in its favour: the reach to a wide audience through browser technology and the way anybody can use it.

As time passes and tools become available then maybe this will change but at the moment it seems that most of the people attacking Flash ads are doing so because they don’t like advertising. They feel that Flash enables it to be invasive and irritating (which it does). But that’s not an argument for changing technology, that’s an argument for changing ideas.

And that is where the debate ought to be.

I like big statements. I like the way they can underpin books which promise easy access to money and success. I like the way they can position the issuer as an authority and smooth the path towards consultancy; surely the aim of any high flying member of the intelligentsia.

So I relished a statement made via the Twitter Gods, home to all off-the-cuff and unsubstantiated statements, that claimed all marketing had to figure Digital in any strategy.

Let’s first be clear: I love the possibilities afforded by digital campaigns. Technology is a marketing person’s dream, offering, as it does, a slew of measuring mechanisms to keep all but the most cynical of bosses happy. Digital plugs into many lives and the numbers it reaches increases daily.

It’s not, however, a must in every circumstance.

In fact the only real encompassing statement I stick my neck out on is that there is no “must”.

Let’s talk anecdotes.

Earlier in the year I had a meeting where I was urging a prospective client to do more with digital. We all agreed there was more to be done and it felt great.

Then, almost as a side discussion, I was given an insight into the value of a non-digital campaign.

The reasoning began simply with: not everybody has easy access to the web. And even if they do they won’t have the access you and I have. I’m here twelve hours a day and a web-capable device isn’t far from my hand.

It makes sense.

I don’t work behind a till or in a hospital or any of the many jobs that mean a person can’t access the Internet whenever they want to. Access to media can be restricted to a newspaper in backroom between jobs or over a sneaky brew.

Yet these people still lead consumer lives and companies still have reason to urge them to buy during their break times.

In these digital times when it seems everybody is forever on Twitter or Facebook it is all too easy to overlook these people and, in doing so, overlook the effectiveness of what is now called “traditional” media.

Digital is a way forward, not the way forward.

Feel-good ads are a way to identify with the needs of your audience but they carry a risk in doing so.

John Lewis ads have, in recent years, become something of an art form. Layered with emotive imagery of wholesome living they are an art director’s dream and a way to explore techniques that will prepare them for that Julia Roberts film they’ve been planning.

Yet walking the tightrope of social and political viewpoints to pinpoint a common vision of Dickensian Christmasses and a gentle humour isn’t all that easy as they have discovered. Their most recent ad, featuring various unusual objects being wrapped, received complaints because one of those objects was a dog. Hardly acerbic satire and certainly not portrayed in a sinister League of Gentlemen manner – although wouldn’t that make for an eye-catching and headline grabbing advertisement? In a nation of dog-lovers, however, it was clearly the wrong subject for a company that never wishes to offend.

It speaks volumes about many things: about consumer power, precarious corporations and recession and even what it means to be British.

But most of all it speaks volumes about advertising messages, specifically about the fact that when your message is feel good rather than pay less or see more, you’d better please some of the people all of the time.

You sit down of an evening and watch TV. What else are you doing? Are you talking to friends on the phone? Are you on the Internet? Are you accessing the TV guide to see what’s on next or whether there is anything better on another side?

You sit down at your computer. Now what are you doing? Most likely it is the task you sat down to complete. You will be reading the news, shopping, chatting to friends or catching up on a programme through an online on demand service.

Both scenarios represent something of a dilemma to advertisers. Both tell us that our relationship with advertising has to change.

The power of TV advertising still holds sway over our purchasing habits. At least they do when we are watching the ads. But how often is that when shows are subject to Sky+ or distractions from other, living room based, technology.

Advertisers know this of course. It’s one of the reasons we see increasing amounts of non-traditional advertising be it through sponsorships, idents or product placements.

As technology enables us to set our own TV schedules and access entertainment in different ways, this becomes even more of an issue.

Then there is the computer.

Whatever that means these days.

Whether it is through a terminal in the corner of a room, a laptop or tablet perched on the arm of the sofa or via a mobile phone, it’s really the Internet we are talking about.

And there our consumption behaviour changes. We are either more focussed or certainly less amenable to advertising than we would be in our old, goggle-eyes days. We see the banners flashing in the frame of article and might, just might, take note.

But not in the same ways we would with a TV ad.

Advertisers might want to count the click throughs because the technology allows but we probably have other ideas.

We are on this page for a reason, remember.

Our relationship with advertising has to change.

Instead of seeing us as willing followers, eager to watch the next ad or cluck through to the micro-site where we can can “swish” our hair for some marketing person’s vain hope of building a community, advertisers need to understand the key changes in our viewing habits.

They, we, need to understand that the relationship needs to become more equal, more give and take and account for the fact that whilst we understand the need to be alerted to new products, we would like the method to change.

We would like to be informed rather than told about products; given reasons to purchase rather than slapped in the face and told to pay attention to advertising that has no message.

Advertising must seek to build a rapport with us and it must do this by engaging, not intruding. New technology demands advertisers take a new approach. Rather than deafen us with ever-increasing volume, they must work harder to let us hear the message they contain.

Our relationship with advertising has changed.

The game layer can be dropped over anything we do in order to help customers engage with products, processes or people.

When Head First set up shop, it was on the strength of believing the approaches of each market specialty, from videogames to DIY, could and should engage in whole lot more mixing.

From the perspective of videogames it seemed advertising often took a back seat to illustration, as though the two disciplines were interchangeable, as though merely by saying that a picture was worth a thousand words actually made it so.

The sophisticated techniques, the considered messages, these were often missing from marketing strategies for the fast growing sector of videogames and Head First wanted to change that.

At the same time, however, we knew that videogames had a lot to give. Energy and engagement were just two things that the world of videogames had to offer every other brand. Sure, the big boys knew how to form a message but videogames… well, they could deliver it in ways that just clicked with audiences of all ages.

Videogames, we said (and still say) aren’t something you grow out of.

We understand the power of the industry and believe in it so strongly that we thought it was time to show just how engaging it can be.

Enter Super Twario and a whole new look at how Twitter can be accessed.

For a while now there have been claims to have created the first ever Twitter game but these claims are built around spamming rather than engaging and users often Tweet in anger as they feel cheated into allowing the service to broadcast messages on their behalf.

With Super Twario we didn’t want to engage with Twitter at all, we wanted our users to. By providing the platform (literally) for them to roam through their Feed in an exciting and, dare the word be uttered, an innovative way. Add to this a score system and you have engagement in a very real sense.

What Super Twario does is show how different products (such as Twitter) can be approached in very different ways.

Most of all though, we wanted people to see that Head First has some pretty great ideas.

Have you ever sat through advert after advert and wondered which ones are actually interested in, or at least aimed at, you?

The older you get, the more this will happen as advertisers skew their messages for the more exciting 18-30 crowd whose disposable incomes, whilst dwarfed by those of older people, seems all the more attractive and desireable.

Perhaps you and I are seen as being fixed in our habits, unlikely to budge from our Pears soap and Werthers Originals. Old habits die hard and all that and maybe advertisers see us as too tough a crowd to convert into new consumers.

Or maybe it’s the lure of the opportunities within the creative approach. Looking at the landscape, with its copies of Old Spice ads and E4 style voice overs for banking products I can see the attraction. New blood is where it’s at as brands struggle to embrace technological opportunities which, like programming the video recorder (they still have those, right?) seem to be designed for young people.

And creatives, fêted for their constant stream of new ideas are shaped by the influences of new comedy sketches rather than the next series of QI.

New, exciting, these words must only be applicable to young consumers. The rest of can just be happy watching re-runs of Grumpy Old Men/Women and watch with envious wonder at ads for products we are too old to buy.

Like shower gel and mobile phones, car insurance and savings accounts.

Dear Rising 2 is an interesting case in all kinds of ways, not just because of the range of materials required or the scope of the strategy but also because it has leapt ahead in the digital download stakes (pardon the pun).

Dead Rising 2: Case Zero was released as a prologue to the main game and available through Xbox Live – an arena not unlike Apple’s App Store and one which will undoubtedly develop massively in the years to come as product switches away from traditional retail outlets.

For us, Case Zero represented a chance to show how advertising can have a measurable effect upon sales and it’s fair to say that NOBODY was disappointed. The game broke all records and a sequel is scheduled to follow sometime after the release of the main game we’ve been working so hard on.

Here’s just one of the ads produced to raise awareness and provide some kind of back story to the launch.

Sorry, this post requires a spot of Flash. We won\'t make a habit of it though.