Le ROI, c'est Morte

What do we measure, and how the heck do we measure it?

Are you a data person? If so, you are no doubt happy to be alive. You’ve got data in spades, don’t you? It’s at your fingertips, it’s accumulating in the cloud, it’s compounding by the second. You can slice it, dice it, collect it, collate it, and endlessly compare it to past performance and industry benchmarks. If you’re one to drive your decision making with quantifiable data, you’re living in a world primed and pumped to make that happen.

In marketing, our gold standard, data-wise, has long been ROI, or Return on Investment. ROI seeks to quantify the results that can be directly attributable to marketing initiatives. It’s why, back in the salad days of direct advertising, every new version of a sales letter solicited response to a different P.O. box, and every infomercial used a different toll-free number. Consumer response could be directly tracked, and winning (or losing) sales pitches could be easily identified.

Nowadays, with so much of our sales taking place online, data is even more immediate, and immediately available. Click-throughs and page-views are easily trackable in real time, can be traced back to particular IP addresses, and can be compared against exhaustive records on evolving consumer behavior. If you’re engaged in digital marketing, you might think you’ve got a better handle on ROI than has ever been possible.

Please – think again.

The dirty little secret about twenty-first century ROI is just how misleading those numbers can be. So your hit counts and individual impressions are sky-high and climbing even higher whenever you up your Google Adwords bid. Is that translating to sales? Is it resulting in money in the bank? Take as cautionary the latter-day parable of the seller who’s dazzled by the real-time reportage from his digital marketing manager...both of them trying their darnedest not to think about the inventory gathering dust out there in the warehouse.

Those numbers? They can be gamed. People click on banner ads and follow links – not always because they want to buy, but sometimes just for the heck of it. If you’re advertising on a popular website, its followers (or even its publishers) might be clicking on your ad just to keep them in business.

Andy Frawley at AdAge recently tackled this conundrum in his article, “ROI Is Dead.” He argues for a new, updated metric, one he calls ROE2 (return on experience times engagement), which would quantify the experience your audience has with your outreach, and how they engage with it.

Amen, we say. All we’d add is that we cannot, must not, shalt not discount the incontrovertible gospel of sales. If product isn’t moving, then our marketing is faulty – no matter what the other metrics say. Our solution is to join marketing and sales at the hip. Let their functions be separate, but let them sing from identical hymnals in terms of consumer engagement, product offerings, and the unique solutions we provide to customers. Consistent messaging always gets results, regardless of the format.

In the abstract, ROI will always be relevant. If you make an investment, sure, you’re more than a little curious regarding the return. It’s how you quantify it that matters. If you’ve been doing it wrong your choices are clear: Keep going on down that well-trod primrose path, or pivot to one that might actually get you where you need to go.

The C4:
1. ROI is the king of marketing metrics, for pretty good reason. Marketing ain’t cheap, and decision makers need to know if their marketing dollars are well spent.

2. But metrics are malicious if you’re measuring the wrong thing. We’ve all had a particular approach to digital ROI, ever since Berners-Lee flipped the www switch. It’s dawning on us, perhaps slower than it should, that this approach might be all wrong.

3. Hit counts and click-throughs and eyeballs-on-the-page are interesting, but they tell us diddley about sales. Sales tells us about sales. Digital marketing, like all marketing, has to be about consumer engagement and consistent messaging. The rest will take care of itself.

4. Le ROI est kaput. Off with its head. If history teaches us anything, it’s that nothing is so replaceable as a king who’s outlived his usefulness.

So, you think there's no power in advertising?

You may want to lather, rinse and repeat.

“Don’t leave home without it.”

“Taste Great. Less Filling.”

“Can you hear me now?”

“Where’s the beef?”

We’ve just thrown at you four unforgettable examples (we could add dozens more without breaking a sweat) of the enduring power of mass-media advertising. Just take a second to appreciate the stickiness of these ear-worms. They’re representative of campaigns that ended years, sometimes decades ago; yet, unless you’re hearing them here for the first time (in which case you’re a hermit or a youngster. Or both?)...then they’re every bit as familiar to you as they are to us. More than that—you can probably hear or see, in your mind’s eye at least, the original flight of ads that embedded them in your consciousness, and in our collective unconscious.

And that’s exactly what happens to these classics, wouldn’t you agree? Eventually, they belong to all of us. They become cultural markers, very often evolved beyond, in due time, the corporate identity from whence they came: “Bet you can’t eat just one” “Have it your way” “Would you like fries with that?” “Lather. Rinse. Repeat.”

These are the phenomena that we hold up as rebuttal to those who say that advertising has no relevance. And we reference them to rebuke, as strongly as we can, those who claim advertising has no power. We humbly submit that advertising like this, lines like these, surpass marketing and mercantilism, and become part of our popular imagination.

“It’s the real thing.”

“Good to the last drop.”

“What’s in your wallet?”

You must realize, then, that this is an ongoing process. That even as the ad-memes of yesteryear endure (“My bologna has a first name!”), contemporary ones are implanting themselves today (“So easy a caveman can do it!”). The cycle repeats.

So what’s the takeaway? For most of us, it’s that our culture is alive, vibrant, ever-changing—replete with not just art, music, and literature, but also with the provocative creativity found in our popular media. With advertising.

And for a select few of us: marketers who’d love to harness this collective chorus, the takeaway is imperative and pithy: Just do it.

The C4:
1. A diamond is forever.
Succinct and catchy advertising slogans endure. They make the jump from media to imagination, and they stay there.

2. Plop plop, fizz fizz.
Repetition is key. Marketers jumpstart this phenomenon by harnessing all available channels to spread the message.

3. But I’m worth it.
Don’t forget value and quality. What you’re selling must be worthy of the consumer’s attention.

4. Time to make the doughnuts.
It takes hard work, and it takes time. Stick to it and you’ll gain customers, move product, capture
market-share. And who knows? Maybe you’ll create that one catchy line they’ll still be raving about a hundred years from now.

Who is Bill Cosby?

Is he America's funniest dad?

Perhaps he is a purveyor of fine puddings and delicious gelatin-based desserts? Or is he someone with decidedly more sinister secrets?

We don’t know the answer any more than you do, and we watch with resigned sadness as it plays out - we hope - to some kind of resolution. But this unfolding story illustrates a vital point, one we think is applicable to our personal lives, business lives, indeed to all of life, writ large.

Because the truth is, whether we’re talking about Bill Cosby, Bill Gates, Bill Clinton or Billy the Kid, we have to realize that a public persona, or any persona, tells only part of the story.

Lives are complex. That seems simplistic, but it’s actually a truth so profound that it’s worthwhile to frequently ponder all its implications.

Think of it this way — what person, other than yourself, knows you the best? It could be your spouse, your closest friend, or very possibly the church minister or bartender down the block. Whoever they are, and however well they may know you, we feel safe to pronounce: They don’t know you completely. We don’t accuse you of hiding some part of yourself, anymore than we accuse ourselves of the same (this phenomenon is entirely universal). It’s just that we’re all different people, in ways subtle and distinct, depending on circumstances and surroundings.

If this is a truth we can stipulate for people, can we not also apply it to organizations? It seems to us that the complexity must compound when we’re looking at larger pools of personalities.

So — was Enron all bad? Is the Humane Society all good? We’re not taking any stances here (we’re willing to flirt with controversy, but please excuse us from full-on macking)...we’re just posing questions.

Whatever feelings you might have about individuals, organizations, corporations, or even your friendly neighborhood brand-management experts it may behoove you to remember that those feelings were born of isolated experiences. You might remind yourself they probably only represent one small part of a very complex picture.

The C4:
1. One hundred percent good and one hundred percent evil are caricatures. They’re the stuff of comic books and not-very-convincing fiction.

2. Real life is more about subtleties of gray, and of complex ranges of motivation and action. Might not be as satisfying from a dramatic standpoint, but mundane human existence rarely is.

3. It’s well-nigh impossible, then, for any of us to completely, intimately know the personalities of others. We think this is inescapable on an individual basis, and even more so with large groups.

4. Impressions, feelings, even the things you’re sure you know about the people around you and the the businesses you work with might just be incomplete. We’re not saying your impressions aren't valid. They surely are. We’re just hoping you can recognize that other impressions and contrasting truths could be just as valid in their own right.

Sales as Service

The collaborative experience your customers demand

While your attention was elsewhere, your customers became empowered. 

Maybe you were busy tweaking your website or learning new software or integrating your brand into the social networking sphere. No doubt you were confident you were keeping up with the times. Ironically, it’s those accelerating times, and the quantum technology leaps that come with them, that have handed the keys to your kingdom to the customers you serve.

Doesn’t really matter how you feel about that (and hey, it isn’t all bad - after all, you’re someone’s customer too, eh?) — it’s a simple, unavoidable reality. Resist if you like, others have certainly tried. Most of them have already shuttered their doors. 

Today’s buyer is better informed, better equipped, and better engaged than at any time in history. They avail themselves of this ubiquitous tech to compare prices and products and to hunt bargains. That’s the least they can do, with the puniest effort. If they apply themselves just a bit more, if they log just a bit more screen-time, they can learn nearly as much about your business as you know yourself.

Think you can best a buyer like that? Think you can even negotiate from a position of strength? Think again.

It’s time to give up the adversarial selling approach. It’s time to accept this new market reality. Time to transition into the role of collaborator.

Becoming the buyer’s ally is the best, last, and only refuge for businesses struggling to make headway in this evolved economy. It’s the one thing that can set them apart from their less evolved competitors. And it’s precisely what those empowered buyers demand and expect.

Understand that by the time your customer engages with you, their homework is complete and their purchasing decisions are made. Your traditional sales routines are thereby made redundant. What they’re looking for, at this stage, is a partner to help enact their decisions, to usher them through the closing formalities, and to provide the utmost level of back-end service and support.

Understand, above all else, that these are expectations. Your compliance is optional only in the same sense that the continuity of your business is optional.

There are a couple of generations among us now that have never experienced any other kind of market. They don’t know or care that some of us came up in the days when the ol’ hardsell came on hard, and could very much sell. 

That kind of selling is gone, class, and it ain’t coming back. The sooner we accept that—the sooner we turn selling into service, in other words—the sooner we succeed.

The C4:

1. The information age begat the information economy. An economy of information means a liberation of information. It means that information has become the great equalizer.

2. The greatest beneficiary of this has been the consumer—i.e. everyone.

3. Prior to making a purchase these days one has the ability; nay, the responsibility, to equip oneself with all available information to make the smartest possible buy. And the available information for doing so is encyclopedic. 

4. For the seller, the choice is clear: resist and perish. Or accept, adapt, and collaborate...and ultimately thrive.

Hold the presses. Hold the Mayo!

Can a boy do a mann's job? Not without a fight.

Never before has mayo—and the manifestly philosophical quandary of what is and isn’t mayo—been such trending news.

Surely you’ve heard about this. Call it the mayo wars. Or maybe it’s a David v. Goliath story, one of Big Mayo against a lilliputian “maybe” mayo.

In this corner, we have Just Mayo,  a Bay Area condiment upstart/startup, producing a sandwich spread that looks like mayo, purports to taste like mayo...but lacking eggs, it begs the existential question - Is it really mayo?

And in that corner, Hellmann’s, the mayo-magnate division of food giant Unilever. They’ve filed suit against Just Mayo’s parent company Hampton Creek, taking issue with nothing less than the condiment’s very name. If it doesn’t contain eggs, says Unilever, citing the FDA’s definition of mayonnaise’s proper ingredients...then Just mayo just ain’t mayo.

So what do we have here? At first glance we might have a corporation, a familiar brand, standing up for truth in food labeling—a boon for us all.

And we also might have a bit of self-preservation, certainly not a bad thing. A Unilever spokesman, commenting on the suit in early November, frankly admitted the case was not just about protecting the consumer, but “also our brand.” Hellmann’s is the #1 mayonnaise on the supermarket shelf, and there’s an argument to be made that Hellmann’s has a right to protect itself when a competitor enters its market with a fundamentally different product.

But hold that mayo. We’re willing to ask the questions that Unilever should have, but evidently didn’t, before they called in the lawyers.

First: does the truth-in-labeling argument hold water? From a legal perspective, sure it does. But no rational observer really thinks that Hampton Creek was trying to pull the wool over consumers’ eyes. Just Mayo lacks eggs because eggs tend to turn your arteries into pointy little sticks. Some folks don’t want that as a side-effect from their sandwich spreads. Other folks don’t worry about it, and will probably keep buying Hellman’s. But neither group is going to rush to thank Unilever for defending the cholestoral-centric definition of mayonnaise. Not a bit of p.r. cred will be had there.

And protecting their brand? We’ve always been the first to argue that a brand is the most precious of assets, and needs to be protected accordingly. But we also know that one must choose one’s battles carefully. So swatting that Just Mayo fly with a corporate-sized sledgehammer—is it worth it?

Before Unilever sued, we’d never heard of Just Mayo. Had you?

If Unilever wins, then Just Mayo changes its name. Maybe...Almost Mayo...or Just Mayo Minus Heart Disease—there are plenty of options (Hampton Creek: Call Us!). But in any case, the legal headache will go away. And in its aftermath? Just Mayo has received more free advertising than they could ever have hoped for.

Seems like Unilever just didn’t think this one through. We predict they’ll find themselves in the pyrrhic position of winning their lawsuit, but still getting egg all over their face.

The C4:
1.  Just the facts: according to the Food and Drug Administration mayonnaise must include “egg yolk-containing ingredients.” Just Mayo is made from canola oil, vinegar, and lemon juice. If you want to make the argument that Just Mayo isn’t, in fact, mayo...well, you’ll get no argument from us.
2.  Likewise, we got your back when you say you need to protect your brand. Business ain’t tiddlywinks. You’ve got to use every tool at your disposal (you’ve got to break some eggs, you might say) to keep your brand profitable.
3. Oh, but you’ve got to pick your battles, man. Do we really need to tell you that? Didn’t Old Mother Hellmann’s teach you that when you but a wee little jar?
4. Hampton Creek/Just Mayo are in the unique position of being very lucky to get sued. Unilever/Hellmann’s has pretty much turned Just Mayo into a household name. Don’t want to say this but we can’t seem to stop...Looks like the yolk is on them.