Showing posts with label Kevin Rudd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kevin Rudd. Show all posts

Saturday, October 10, 2009

The power of speech

I read voraciously at the breakfast table when I was a kid. Cereal boxes, jam jars, milk cartons. Anything I could find to fuel my imagination while I ate my cornflakes. I wasn’t bored, I was simply enchanted by the stories they told or that I could conjure in my mind with just a few juicy morsels of information.

I wondered if Snap, Crackle and Pop were actually three distinct types of Rice Bubble, each with a different product formulation to create the right sound.

I puzzled over the ingredients in the jam, trying to work out which one caused the lid on the jar to shut so tightly. Did the natural sugars in the jam create a unique vacuum, and was it true that there was a special grip required, known only to a select group of fathers? (Luckily, mine was one of them.)

And I was always curious to know how “fresh” was the milk in the milk carton. Did it mean fresh this morning? Fresh this week? Or simply fresh enough? What’s more, my mother wasn’t one for brand loyalty when it came to milk, so all sorts of differently coloured cartons would make an appearance at the table, leading to a constant stream of bewilderment as we tried to unlock the intricate code that distinguished the homogenised from the pasteurised, the semi-skimmed from the full cream.

Fast forward thirty or so years, and I now find myself not quite as inspired by the words I read in branding. Sure, the responsibilities of adulthood have no doubt dulled the further reaches of my imagination, but that does not explain why every hotel directory in the world reads exactly the same, no matter how budget or boutique. Useful telephone numbers, dry cleaning details, room service menus and intricate instructions for internet access. Where’s the reassuring voice of the savvy concierge who so kindly scored me a table at that exclusive restaurant last night?

Buy flat–pack furniture from any retail brand, and you can only assume that they simply ran out of money when it came to writing the assembly instructions. You spend all that money on talking people into buying your brand only to find it lost for words when it comes to crunch – talk about having a screw loose.

Conversely, politicians used to bore me senseless when I was younger. But now, I’m pushed to find anything quite as exciting when it comes to the power of speech. Never was this more evident than in the gaping chasm that stretched between George W. Bush and Obama. Even the make-up of their names provides a clear signal of the tone you expect to hear in their voice. Stern, establishment and old–school on the one hand, open, inclusive and contemporary on the other.

In Australia, K–Rudd is continually looking to language to build his personal brand and cachet. Since the launch of Kevin07, he’s been hard at work trying to show he’s one of the people – a fair dinkum, dyed–in–the–wool, true blue, Aussie bloke. And when he used the term “shitstorm” on our television screens, it became a powerful trigger for reinforcing this strategy. Likewise, the s–word was followed by the r–word (“recession”) and the b-word (“billions” – when discussing the budget deficit) as equally powerful triggers for action.

Political speechwriters have always seemed to have the upper hand on the mere copywriter. Back in the day, when the Roman Empire towered above the known world, Cicero led the pack with his skills of oratory and rhetoric. He had a very persuasive way with words, to the point that he saw his role as persuading his audience to come to their own decision, rather than forcing a decision upon them. It just so happened that their decision matched his own more often than not.

Likewise, the fable of the North Wind and the Sun, as told by Aesop. The North Wind tried to prove his strength by blowing the traveller’s cloak from his back, a tactic that only led the traveller to pull his cloak tighter around him. However, the Sun shone so brightly that the traveller removed his cloak in the heat of his own accord. The Sun proved persuasion is a stronger ally than force when it comes to achieving your ends, and language is no different.

For me, words have always carried incredible power. Whether a spark for the imagination, a call to action, or the prose of persuasion.

Branding is no exception. It relies on both words and pictures to tell the complete story. Too often, however, brands are visually stunning but have little of interest to say. They are all too easy on the eye, but conversation is not their strong suit, and you can’t help but feel a little empty once you move beyond the surface sheen.

In fact, it is impossible to build a strong brand without considering the impact of words, starting with the name.

The name plays a pivotal role for any brand. More than merely the legally trademarked moniker, names send a strong signal of intent. And when done well, they can create a powerful call to action that works itself into not only our minds but also our mouths. We now “Skype” one another in the same way that our parents used to “Hoover” the house, and brands like “Virgin” are no longer synonymous simply with sex, as per their basic dictionary definition.

Nowadays, names are developing their own brand cachet to the point that they are even reducing our reliance on taglines. Over the years, there have been some great taglines that will forever be remembered by their loyal audiences, irrespective of the most recent campaign. Apple and Nike are both iconic examples of brands that worked a tagline to their advantage in building their profile and presence over time, but now they focus people’s attention purely on their names to build brand loyalty. Names are now taking on both roles, delivering a single, much simpler, more direct and, ultimately, more powerful punch.

On the other hand, directness can sometimes work to your brand’s disadvantage. The urgency of Nike’s “Just Do It” just doesn’t do it for many brands where service levels require a few more comfort cues.

I remember reading a great example of this in John Simmon’s book, “The Invisible Grail”, in which he wrote about the types of advert that you often see in the front windows of cafés – “Experience breakfast chef wanted”. It’s a fairly straightforward message to understand and act upon, but it reveals very little of the character of the café in question. With a little more thought for language and consideration for the tone of the message, another venue wrote this advert – “Charming, intelligent, waiting staff. One more wanted”. The difference, and therefore the impact, is palpable, and it’s this understanding of the power of speech that Pret A Manger employed when they wrote their own recruitment advert – “We are opening new Pret stores, one at a time, no rush. And we need to employ more wonderful people”. They are clearly able to communicate a fair amount about the organisation’s values through the words they use, helping people decide whether this is a brand where they would like to work or not.

When it comes to creating any call to action, it is vital to remember that the right words will always evoke the right response. Choose them wisely.

What’s the more, the right words can do so much to touch your audience’s emotions.

I, for one, love my coffee. So what better way to get me even more excited about great coffee than great writing that revels in the brand. Puccino’s, for example, is a family-owned, UK café chain with an exuberant philosophy that puts a premium on its off–beat personality and exceptional service. This exuberance takes flight on takeaway cups that read “Cola is for wimps” in scrawled handwriting. Sugar packs claiming to be “Pillow for earphones” or “Not one of those handwarmers”. Paper bags that proudly pronounce “Carrying stuff around is the new leaving it where it is”. And, my favourite, in–store posters that greet customers with these words: “Of all the coffee bars in all the towns in all the world, you walk into me”.

Not only is it consistently great copywriting, this is also real emotion. And, if you follow any of the posts on the various blog sites and feeds where this branding has appeared, you’ll instantly witness the warmth and connection that customers feel for the brand – and for coffee, their daily salvation.

McVitie’s Jaffa Cakes have also used an equally insightful tone of voice on their packaging in the past to reach out to their customers, playing up an envious element of the brand that meant people were often unwilling to share the Jaffas – the packs announced “This box is empty” and “Don’t even think about it!”. In the same way that Puccino’s ensured the daily grind was anything but routine for their coffee and their customers, so Jaffa Cakes decided that greed was good and they should relish the opportunity to divide and conquer.

In the corporate world, the power of speech was not lost on IBM when they came out of one of the most difficult periods of their entire history. “We decided not to die”, declared the first of their Sweet Sixteen decisions that transformed the business, and the 2001 annual report did much more than provide a report on a corporation’s travails, it told a gripping, “no–holds–barred” story of company fighting for its life – tales of “big battles, stinging defeats and gritty comebacks. Unexpected alliances, daring forays and game–changing discoveries”. Corporate jargon made way for a visceral tone that portrayed the simple emotion and sheer humanity of the transformation, the stories that sat behind the numbers, the people behind the pictures.

Language like this can reveal so much more than the individual words themselves. And for many companies, it can sometimes be the difference between life and death. It hits you right between the eyes and leaves its indelible mark, but it’s not the only way to work your message.

Persuasion is an equally powerful tool, as Apple found when they made a subtle change to the wording of their recommendations on the iTunes store – from “iTunes recommends” to “Listeners also bought”. The recommendations now came from people’s peers not the company, a factor that theoretically contributed to an impressive uplift in sales via this channel.

Amazon has always used a similar approach – as do a raft of other online stores – and this will only grow in significance in line with the various social media tools that now allow unprecedented levels of discussion in a public forum. Influencing those discussions may be more complex, but establishing an authentic and engaging tone of voice is a critical path to follow if you are simply to join the discussion, let alone influence the outcome through persuasion.

Brand and corporate blogs are still struggling to understand their role in this new media landscape, and having to rely on language alone leaves them feeling a little exposed. There are no logos to leverage, no visual cues to hide behind, no lectern to provide protection for the most sensitive areas. Words, and words alone, must take centre stage.

As I’m sure you must have realised by now, I love words. They have inspired and intrigued me since I learned to read and write, but it is their ability to paint pictures in the mind’s eye that gives them their special power. They say a picture is worth a thousand words – and I would tend to agree with the impact that an image can achieve – but what grabs me is the potential for a single word to tell ten thousand stories.

The brands included here, from Rice Bubbles to IBM, all understand their role as storytellers. And for a brand to attract believers, it must have something to say.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

The dizzy heights of failure (and other stories)

When it comes to social commentary, I have often found music much more insightful than the latest trend report. The Clash, Dylan, The Jam, Nirvana. Poetry, not PowerPoint.

Whatever your personal preferences, Britpop, for example, neatly summed up the attitude of a generation in the UK. So much so that it's only fitting the last word should have gone to Jarvis Cocker of Pulp fame. His first solo release delivered a great one-liner on the state of the nation post Labour's resurgence under Prime Minister Tony Blair.

"The cream cannot help but always rise up to the top. Well, I say: Shit floats."

And, to be perfectly blunt, I think the same is true of many management teams.

David Maister, the renowned professional services thinker, has always said that at any one time, 10% of your workforce are underperforming and should be managed out of the business. Whenever people hear this view (or is it a statistic?), most automatically assume that means 10% of the rank and file, but that would be a gross oversight given the impact of the decisions made by an organisation's top echelon. And, as Jarvis so graphically explained, the cream isn't necessarily the only thing that rises to the top.

The economic crisis has caused a raft of issues. Few more worrying for your top executive than the unwanted exposure brought on by the fact that many of the so-called cream have received hefty bonuses, seemingly as a reward for failure.

Careers have been killed, but at the same time I have also seen countless underperformers actually promoted through failure. No doubt promoted into a position from where they could presumably do less harm, but hardly the right signal for those surging through the ranks on the wave of success. Jarvis would feel vindicated.

It would be easy to see where this is all heading, if it weren't for the fact that failure is often viewed as a good thing.

In short, if you're not failing, you're simply not trying hard enough. And according to many, this recent failure of our economic systems was inevitable. They say it was the recession that had to happen. We had to fail in order to reset the balance.

So it seems our fate was more in the hands of the gods and fickle fortune than the chief executives and their chairmen. It wasn't their fault, just plain old bad luck.

Not quite.

If we were to take Jarvis at face value, things simply rise and fall. But that isn't quite true, actually they go around in cycles. Which conveniently brings me back to the point where I started. The Britpop revolution of the 1990s (Blur, Oasis, Pulp) took many of its cues from the British Invasion of the 1960s (The Who, The Rolling Stones, The Kinks). Similar trends, similar times. And it won't be long before the 1960s come to life again in another age.

The same can be said for our current economic situation, only none of our financial leaders saw it coming with the same vision or insight as those record executives. History will say that we failed, so let's hope we change our tune in time for the encore. If not, then Kevin Rudd – the cream of Canberra – will be back shouting from the very top of the steaming pile about "the usual political shitstorm". Jarvis would be proud.