Monday, November 9, 2009

Listen today to Morrow

Last night, I watched The Chaser's Julian Morrow present this year's Andrew Olle Media Lecture.

And it was absolutely brilliant. Unmissable, in fact. (That is, unless you have to make do with the heavily edited 15:22 version that the ABC have since chosen to upload to YouTube.)

Fortunately, the ABC have kindly provided the full transcript here, where you can also choose to listen to Julian Morrow's speech in its entirety, in addition to the introduction from ABC 702's Richard Glover and the vote of thanks given by the ABC's Managing Director, Mark Scott.

If you're genuinely interested in the role and future of the media – both the sick and the salubrious – I simply can't recommend this enough.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Read all about it (redux)

I love newspapers.

I know I wrote a B&T story here that lamented their fate (a shape–up–or–ship–out type of story).

And forget the fact that I have a blog, Twitter feed, Facebook and LinkedIn accounts. Plus an iPhone with all sorts of strange apps. All things that would suggest to the average consumer researcher that I don't know my broadsheet from my Berliner.

But they couldn't be more wrong, and there's no getting away from the fact that I love newspapers. And, in particular, I love The Australian.

As it happens, The Australian is undergoing a bit of a makeover at the moment and the associated commentary makes for some interesting reading – and viewing.

It's not often that you get to see inside the creative process as it hits the shelves, and it's equally rare that its creator takes you on a personal tour, although not quite so rare now that we live in the grip of web 2.0.

That said, I have to admit that the commentary wavers between resounding insight and a slightly hollow ring. I realise it's only part of the story (and I prefer to focus on the deeper, more insightful part), but I would like to believe that there is much more besides to be gained from a redesign of The Australian at the dawn of the 21st century. And I say that not as a cynic for whom nothing is ever good enough, but as an optimist in the eternal hope of utilitarian prosperity (which is not necessarily as complicated as it sounds).

I daren't write more for fear of journalistic retribution on a karmic scale given that I write as a mere amateur on the subject of not only my favourite newspaper, but also the patron of writers far more expert than me.

But I do write as someone who believes in the future of the printed newspaper (and its dull thud as it is delivered to the doorstep). Long may it linger.

Friday, November 6, 2009

How does it feel to feel?

My Friday afternoon took a rather sinister turn after a fight broke out at Melbourne airport.

A couple of guys walked through the terminal, found their man, and then came a violent eruption of punches until a couple of brave passengers stood between them. The attackers checked themselves, uttered a few choice words about broken noses, and then turned and traced their steps back through the airport.

It was all over quite quickly, but the emotion in the air was intense.

Admiration for the brave men who had put themselves in the middle of the melee, and stopped the fight from going any further. Fear from the female Qantas ground staff who found themselves in the thick of it as the fight spilled behind the customer service desk. And a mixture of anxiety, shock and excitement swirled around the scene, along with pretty much every other emotion you care to name.

And it reminded me of just how emotionally charged we are – as a species, I mean.

Yes, granted we spend a great deal of time thinking – "Cogito ergo sum", as Descartes once famously pronounced – but so much of our existence also relies upon our capacity to feel.

Earlier this week, Adam Ferrier wrote in his blog, Consumer Psychologist, about the Melbourne Cup, gambling and the concept of variable positive reinforcement – the practice of rewarding desired behaviour (for example, gambling) at random times and with random amounts. And he wondered why marketers didn't use this concept more often and not just in promotions, under the pretext that, "If it's the strongest conditioner of human behaviour, shouldn't marketers be trying to understand it and applying its principles in a slightly more sophisticated way"?

Again, what Adam is raising here is the very visceral nature of the human race – ideas that relate to our deepest inward feelings rather than to our intellect.

The automotive industry, for one, has always worked hard on designing a human feel to its cars. Not simply when it comes to how they function, but also how they look. In fact, most cars smile.



If you look at the VW Beetle or the new model Mazda 3 (just to name a couple), the bonnet, grille and headlights are often designed and positioned to mirror a human face. And a happy one at that.

At the opposite end of the scale to happiness is loss – specifically death, in the form of cult brand, Death Cigarettes.



Here's some of the on-pack copy:

A pack of Death cigarettes leaves no doubt as to the risks of smoking. We don't print a health warning just because it's law. We believe in telling the truth...a responsible way to market a legally available consumer product which kills people when used exactly as intended.

You couldn't get a more honest smoke.

As humans, we are a complex race full of raw emotion and feeling. They say the truth hurts, and they're right. But not because it's true in thought, more so because it hurts our feelings.

So it is, that the most successful brands are often also the most primal. And if you ask me, that feels just about right.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Short is sweet

The most effective design is often the most immediate.

So it's no wonder that one of my very good designer friends would rather the same was true of some of my longer blog posts.

In his world, short is sweet. Short hair. Short black. Short sleeves. Short board. Sweet.

Now perhaps I shouldn't pay too much attention to him given that he's off to work in Paris. However, that would also be to ignore the global language that brands create, even if you've only made it as far as Perth.

No economy of words could ever match the power that is represented in a single stroke or swoosh when it symbolises something as influential as a brand like Nike. The brand's identity acts as a shorthand that cuts across countries and cultures, allowing individuals to translate its meaning for themselves without having to dive into the dictionary.

So, as a parting gesture to my Parisian-bound friend – and at the risk of neglecting those of us who aren't about to start intensive French language classes – it seems right to recount the thoughts of Blaise Pascal, a 17th century mathematician and philosopher. In his words, "Je n'ai fait celle-ci plus longue parce que je n'ai pas eu le loisir de la faire plus courte". Obviously, he hadn't heard of just do it.