Month: March 2008

This article is part of the series — The Future of Your Brand Is ….

Working in kids marketing is an interesting challenge. Of course, there are ethical issues that you need to balance — the same can be said about any form of marketing — but there is something far more brutal in kids marketing than first meets the eye. It is the kids. They are a tough audience. There is no engagement, no discussion, no “pussy footing” around an issue. Either you are ON or your are out the door. There is no in-between.

One of the great things about this is that you know very quickly if your marketing is going to be successful. This is especially true online, where almost real time results can be seen flicking across your WebTrends or Google Analytics dashboards. But equally, this means that failure is also swift and judgment harsh. For those of us working with social media, we will be used to seeing the occasional unpleasant message in comments or on a forum some place. It comes as part of the landscape. But kids will be direct. Unwittingly cruel. And frighteningly honest. It is one thing to have “constructive criticism” on the campaign that you have taken months to craft, but quite another to be told “this sucks” by a 10 year old. It is even worse to have this echo across the web with alarming speed.

As a way of mitigating the risk of failure, one of the approaches I have used successfully is to align messaging, activation and engagement with the core developmental needs of kids at various ages. But to do this well you need to go deep. Really deep. And it needs to be personal. This is not just about the kids that you market to, but it is understanding on an emotional level, what worked and what did not FOR YOU. It means going back into your own imaginings and memories. It means searching honestly for the things that thrilled, frightened and fascinated you. It means being authentic.

The art of surprise

In Australia, this quote was famously dropped by Victorian Premier, Jeff Kennett, but anyone involved in the world of advertising or marketing would have heard it a thousand times. It is the defence of the unprepared client, the unready account director and the floundering creative director. It means that, in reality, the brief was ill prepared. It means that there was precious little by way of insight or analysis. It is the excuse that absolves one of responsibility — unless, of course, you are responsible for the creative.

And while I have heard this line a thousand times, there is some truth to the statement.

When I put together a brief I try not to be too prescriptive. After all, I want a creative response, not a yes/no answer to a series of problems. But there is a fine line between instructing and informing. And of course, I can also be obtuse, too far from the mark. Too open (but then, that’s what questions and phone calls are for). When I first receive a response to a brief, I am hoping to be amazed. I want to be surprised, astounded. I want the “Eureka” moment where an idea turns to gold and it gives me a moment to bask in the glory of true genius. This is the same expectation of the child. It is very much like I am a child opening a present. As children approach the world with a sense of awe and wonder, it is no surprise that the most mundane events elicit a powerful emotional response. However, as adults we guard ourselves with layers of cynicism and wrap ourselves in the safety of our own self knowledge. It is much harder for us to be swept up in an idea. We have EXPECTATIONS. And if someone says “gold”, then we want to see it.

The brands that “get kids” understand the Eureka moment. They understand the art of surprise. They know what it takes to make a child respond with gleaming eyes and a rush of hastily thrown together syllables — “ffffwwoaaarhhh … eyeewahnthaaat!”. They are able to manufacture the excitement and stimulate the imagination. They are able to allow the kids to transform themselves from a spectator into a participant in the blink of an eye. These brands let the kids in, allow themselves to be taken over by a rampant imagination. In fact, they do this by design. Yes, design. But it also art.

To understand how this works, to think through the power of surprise, its link with desire and how it can be created, I want to touch briefly on one of my childhood desires. (I told you this needs to work on a personal level.) But as I do this, I want you to think back to those cusp years, your “tween” years where you are not quite a child and not yet a teenager. These are pivotal years. Remember for a moment the toy that you loved but never owned. Or loved and loved till it fell apart. For me, my first unrequited love was the Green Machine. What was yours? Think about it now.

The Green Machine was a revelation. It was a colour that could not be mistaken. It was aggressively green when every other bike was red. It was low when everything else was high. It jutted out like an angry chin. And I can still see the camera angles used in the TVCs. The camera is slightly below the track of the footpath and a kid comes rocketing down the path leaning to his left, hands firmly on the twin controllers, banking the green beast around the edge of the garden. It is all over in a flash. It is all big wheels and green frame and kids with smiling teeth.

And while these images are a blur, what I remember to this day is the emotion and excitement about this toy (let’s face it, it was a toy). But what is weird (and probably slightly alarming) is that my memories of the ad actually feature me. When I replay them in my mind (what little I can remember), I see a blonde haired boy in a brown velour jumper and blue slacks (it is the 70s remember). It is me. But an idealised me. It is the invincible me … the one that can wear my “good” clothes while out riding with my friends.

You see, in this episode, in one single ad, there has been a complete transposition. It is me in control. I am in the driving seat — literally and figuratively. I am in the brand and surrounded by it. And I am giddy with the excitement and joy of the experience. Even now I am smiling.But being unrequited, my desire was disrupted. Perhaps this is why the Green Machine lived on for me. (It seems that it lived on for others too as it was reprised for a new generation some years ago.)

Why did the Green Machine work? Quite simply, because it tapped into the way that kids PLAY:

P — for power
L — for learning and curiosity
A — for adventure
Y — the yelp of surprise and delight

Next I will go into detail around each of these items and show how and why they work for kids. Oh, and in case you have not started to see it yet … I will piece it together to show why, in all seriousness, the Future of Your Brand is Play (see Part 2 here).

At the end of 2007 and in the early part of 2008 I watched as a series of predictions hit the web. Some of these posts and articles predicted the end of this or that, or the beginning of something else. Some looked at trends, others at opportunities. Sometimes the focus was observational. And while I don’t normally go in for trend analysis, I felt a strange sort of pressure to come up with my own list of predictions. I began stewing on it … and it became worse with every new, additional post that I saw on trends. But then I realised that the only expectations were my own. I felt released. And now a good two months into the year, the focus on the future has been forgotten — we are, everyday, seeking to define and create it with our words, actions and ideas. We are thinking on the fly, strategically doing and jumping in feet first. If anything, 2008 is more of the same … more blogging, more social media, more connections and ideas, more conferences and meetups. I don’t know if it IS faster that 2007, but it feels it.

As it turns out, I did give into the task of compiling a trends and opportunities document. And to my surprise, I enjoyed doing it — even if I found it difficult. The task of sorting through ideas and organising my thinking took much longer than I anticipated — as did lifting my eyes beyond the next 24 hours. Blogging had made me responsive to events, but I also felt like it had shortened my vision. Rather than thinking big, big picture, I had become opportunistic. It took quite an effort to step outside of this ideation myopia to begin seeking the connections between events, conspiracies, movements and ideas that would form the backbone of my document. I was helped in this by reading some very well structured books — Joseph Jaffe’s Join the Conversation and a review copy of Michael Port’s upcoming Beyond Booked Solid (reviews coming I promise), and came to the realisation that when it came to insight I needed a little more focus, not less — I needed to zero in, not fly at 10,000 feet.

Out of the haze I settled upon two meta-trends — the trends of trends:

• Micro-transformations — Micro-transformations refer to the miniaturising of consumer behaviours into ever smaller discrete steps. This fragmentation of direct experience is driving a range of sub-trends that are, in turn, being facilitated by economic, technical and social changes.
• Infatuations — In a globalised world, our infatuations are taking on new dimensions. No longer is infatuation one-way, but it is bi-directional … what we love now returns that love in an equally idealised form.

By forcing myself to work through these elements, I began to also consider the nature and future of advertising and marketing. I started to wonder not just about the trend, but the IMPACT of these things on business, on leadership, and of course, on brands. Where would it all go, and how will it change the workforce, our society and the way that we interact with each other? How does this jigsaw fit together?

Now, after a couple of months, these ideas are starting to take shape in my own mind. But rather than writing small posts on this, I felt like I needed a more expansive format — so I am embarking on a blog topic series — entitled The Future of Your Brand Is …

Over the next few weeks I will be interrogating the future of brands — and at the end I may even pull the pieces together in an eBook. Let me know if you think this would be useful.

For my first excursion I will be walking in the footsteps of Sigmund Freud and going back to childhood — for it seems to me, The Future of Your Brand Is … PLAY. Join me later this week for the first instalment — or make it easy and subscribe to my feed.