A healthy dose of insight

My wife is currently studying medicine – through Google, it seems.

Whenever she or one of our sons is sick, her first port of call is always to type some pithy description of the symptoms into the search field. That way, she can at least rule out any terminal diseases before preparing herself for discussions with her assistants at the local surgery. It all comes down to access to the right information – not that there's anything wrong with that.

But what I'm finding more and more is that the age-old adage knowledge is power is no longer true.

In fact, it's now more accurate to say that information is power.

And that, I think, is a problem because you'd have to be crazy not to acknowledge the gulf that exists between the two (as does my wife, fortunately).

Knowledge comes through understanding and experience, whereas information simply litters our lives, an often random sequence of data, symbols and other bits and pieces. Knowledge makes sense of information, whereas information on its own can often be senseless, unless of course you know what to do with it.

Which brings me to research.

Focus groups are typically the whipping boy for why research is so often so flawed, but that's too easy and obvious a target – plus, my friend Ingrid over at Aesthetics of Joy (the Christmas trees, remember) already wrote this article a few years ago that perfectly summarises the bigger issues.

But what frustrates me is the seemingly blind proliferation of information churned out by your typical research agency.

They can tell you what was said. In fact, they'll happily write dozens of slides in 8-point type, and even throw in the odd piece of Clipart for a little light relief – if there's space on the slide, they'll be sure to fill it.

But they can rarely tell you what it means.

They'd rather leave that to a mother of two from Castle Hill who you've just paid $80 for 90 minutes of her time to design the pack or write the tagline for you. Easier than making the decision yourself, plus you've now got someone to blame just in case.

Research has its role to play and there can be no doubt that the most successful brands are consumer-informed, but they are never consumer-led. If that was the case, then we'd all be riding faster horses, to paraphrase Henry Ford.

In the case of research, knowledge typically makes sense of information through insight.

But unless more research agencies are able to transform all this information into even the smallest morsel of insight, then my wife may not be the only one turning to Google for the answers.

Eyes wide open (thanks, Grace)

Not so long ago, I wrote here about The Writer, just one of many posts about the way in which brands use language to distinguish themselves – in both senses of the word.

And it reminded me of uncompromising brands like Gym Jones, a gym in Utah that prides itself on nothing less than Power, Speed, Endurance, Suffering and Salvation.

As you can read for yourself in this exert from their website, they're pretty serious about what they do (and don't).

I wish more brands took themselves so seriously that they held to such an unwavering view of their place in the world, rather than allow punters to wander into a focus group and make all the important decisions for them. But alas, such instances seem few and far between.

Unless, that is, you know where to look.

It was Grace Coddington, Creative Director of American Vogue, who spoke in The September Issue about how she learnt early in her career that you should always keep your eyes open, never go to sleep in the car or anything like that, keep watching – because whatever you see out the window or wherever, it can inspire you.

And so it was that I found myself staring out of the passenger window on Saturday morning as we drove along the incredibly uninspiring and downright demoralising Parramatta Road.

All these thoughts were rattling around in my head when out of the blue – or should I say gray? – I saw a furniture store called 3 Of A Kind with this brutally honest tagline.

Butt ugly blokes building handsome furniture for beautiful people.

I wish we'd stopped to find out if it was true, but I can only imagine that there's few better places to go if you want an honest piece of original craftsmanship.

And if that wasn't enough, we then drove straight past this tattoo parlour.

Where better to go than the House Of Pain?

You can't be serious

A recent research study concluded that people who laugh on average four times a day – or, thirty times are week – can expect to live up to ten years longer than people who frown perpetually or don't find Woody Allen funny. Personally, I try to read one of Woody's short stories at least once a week in order to keep my spirits up, and my physician often takes time to comment on my amusing demeanour.

Of course, it's not always possible to have a copy of Mere Anarchy to hand. And I consider myself fortunate to have found a very different but equally humorous protagonist to keep me in good shape on a more mobile basis via the worldwide web.

By way of introduction, David Thorne is the man who tried to pay his bill with a drawing of a spider. Just one example among a host of other equally ludicrous stunts that all go to show the pen is far mightier than the sword. He is very funny. In fact, he's hilarious.

However, I find it just as disheartening that humour struggles to register on our collective consciousness as a more meaningful genre in today's society.

In the case of David Thorne, he is typically dismissed out of hand as a serial prankster or pest, not someone with something significant to contribute. In his mind, the Internet is a playground, so let’s start playing.

For example, if you want to win an Oscar, you'll always stand a far better chance with a drama or a tragedy, never a comedy.

Most people read newspapers but frown upon comics. It seems as though forcing yourself into a manic state of depression over your bowl of morning cornflakes is preferable to a quick giggle or the opportunity to save the planet from a vicious army of twin-tailed rats while the kids are still tucked up in bed.

And the despicable rogue of the class is always the colourful joker, never the conscientious dullard who takes everything at face value and finds it difficult to talk to people, let alone make eye contact for more than a fleeting moment.

All of this adds up to one thing.

I am desperate to know why we can't have more fun if we want to be taken seriously.

There's questionable fame or fun in working ridiculous hours that pinch your life, instead there's more to gain from leading a fun-filled existence. Just ask anyone from Aristophanes, the ancient Greek playwright who loved nothing more than to poke fun at the establishment, to Tina Fey, the brilliantly funny creator of 30 Rock, or Larry David and his improvised comedy show, Curb Your Enthusiasm. Collectives like The Chaser are serious journalists, but they just happen to use humour to tell their story – and, much to everyone’s shame, it works.

In much the same way, Banksy's street art uses a darker humour to reveal certain truths about our society. It's funny, but at times his use of humour can also be slightly unsettling.

I like being taken seriously, but I'm not so keen on being serious. Life should be fun, and there's no reason why our brands shouldn't be equally entertaining.

More comedy, less corporation! – that's what I say.

Or, you know what? Laugh. It won't kill you.