The old egg and lightbulb rule.

In research it’s always nice to hear that respondents ‘liked’ your idea.

But so what?

The problem is people like a lot of things, pictures of puppies, pretty colours, the way the model looks strong, the happy setting of a family on holiday because it reminds them of that time in Corfu.

It doesn’t really mean they’ll remember it though, at least not just for that reason alone.

I always love that question when you hear it in a research one to one. “Which one of these concepts would you remember most?”

As if they know!

Not to say it isn’t a valid expectation, fixing a permanent spot in the HCP’s mind is kind of what we should be aiming for, obviously.

Derren Brown, the famous er…magician doesn’t really cut it…illusionist possibly? Anyway, ‘Wizard’ is probably closest, knows a thing or two about how the mind works.

If you have ever had the pleasure of seeing one of his shows it is literally a marvel.

If you didn’t know better and if he didn’t admit he isn’t one, you’d swear he was a genuine psychic.

It appears he can read minds and predict the future.

And his ability to memorise things is incredible.

But it’s based on simple techniques that he writes about in his book A trick of the mind.

One of them is this:

If you want to remember a list of random items, it helps if you visualise them meshed together to create a strong visual image in your head.

To demonstrate the difference try these two techniques. First, give yourself one minute to learn this list of ten things in this exact order:

A kettle

A red shoe

A giraffe

A cloud

A banana

A clam

A urinal

A guitar

A country lane

A grey carpet

Got it?

Okay, go away and try writing them down in that order and see how far you get.

Now try the same list but this time link the two images together in a visual picture.

A kettle

A kettle shaped like a red shoe

A pair of red shoes on a giraffe

A giraffe shaped cloud

A cloud emanating from a banana

A banana inside a clam

A clam peeing in a urinal

A urinal shaped guitar

A guitar in the middle of a country lane

A country lane made of grey carpet

Now try the same exercise and write them down again. A bit easier to remember isn’t it?

That’s because memory is linked closely to the visual side of the brain. If we can visualise it, we remember it better.

That’s why so many of the great ad campaigns have strong visual elements.

It’s also why concepts with people on the beach or at the park and a line about their data are likeable but forgettable.

It’s why you forget most of the advertising messages you are bombarded with every day.

It’s why even strong headlines are often visual too and paint a picture.

So what can we learn from this little trick of the mind?

Well it might help agencies and clients take a different view of that part of the research debrief that says the respondents ‘like’ an idea.

As I said, people like a lot of things.

But the things they remember are the ones that are a square peg in a round hole. The ideas that subvert, twist, shock or surprise.

It’s why a picture of a lightbulb or an egg may be likeable but isn’t memorable, but a lightbulb, cracked like an egg somehow is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Survey this.

Frankly, I have had enough of survey requests.

Not the door to door type, just the incessant ‘how was buying that door knob for you’ type of survey.

I don’t want to be part of the big data I want to be small data, in my own house, leave me alone thank you very much.

The problem with surveys is (and by the way- how is your experience of the last sentence? can you take the time to fill in a form?)

When I just want to book some theatre tickets I don’t want to tell you how brilliant I found the experience of giving you my credit card details. I just want the tickets.

If I didn’t find this a reasonably good experience I would:

A: Not use your poxy site again

B: Complain

Actually, I probably wouldn’t even complain. I mean how bad would your website have to be?

You will find out if your website is crap because people will stop using it.

How’s that for a real life big data survey?

I recently have had some dealings with SKY. Yes they sorted the issue out, no I don’t want to rate your employee.

I’ve done it twice and the texts won’t go away.

It’s actively making me hate the SKY brand.

But that data isn’t captured because I keep giving them 10 out of 10 because it’s easier that way and it gets them off my back.

I recently joined the National Trust. Now I have a text sitting on my phone because they would ‘love to get my feedback on my experience’.

The guy on the phone was nice enough and I gave him my debit card details.

There, does that help?

What if agencies surveyed their clients as regularly as other companies think it’s OK to do? How was your last conference call? was it A: Too long B: Too short C: Waste of time D: Incoherent.

You recently had a presentation from our agency. Did you find the slides A: Tedious B: Colourful C: Interesting D: Helpful E: Stupid.

How do you view our recent award triumph at the PONCY AWARDS in Zurich? A: Don’t care B: Somewhat don’t care C: Massively cool D: I got drunk and embarrassed myself and have no recall of anything.

Would this help improve our services?

The only real data that matters is if you still have the account and if the work worked.

I do wonder whether this new obsession to gather trivial data at all costs is really a true reflection of real life or that helpful.

Me? I am all surveyed out.

How was this blog for you?

 

 

Dear Mr Hammer, your problem isn’t a nail.

Aren’t all branding ideas sort of advertising ideas and vice versa?

Well, sometimes, I guess, but not always.

In Pharmaland we can lean towards treating every problem as if it needs a good whack on the head. Give it a brand image that people will remember, plaster it all over the congress stand and the iPad and stand back.

Not you obviously, but you know…other agencies.

The most recent Mr Muscle campaign highlights the often subtle differences between what (I regard as an..) advertising idea and a brand idea. Both have found their way in to an adspace mind you.

Now, I am not saying that this is the greatest campaign of all time, but it provides a useful, albeit mediocre, example.

The old campaign featured, for years, a feeble nerd who took on super strength because of the product. Mr Muscle loves the jobs you hate.

screen-shot-2017-01-23-at-17-29-24 screen-shot-2017-01-23-at-17-29-46

Yes, irony folks. But it worked because people could see the role of the brand in their life.

Then after a 30 year successful run some sort of global adboard switches it around and makes the product a superhero (yawn), complete with muscles and a square chin. Not sure why he’s animated but never mind.

One shows the user having a clear benefit.

The other says the brand is great.

journal-mr-muscle

I can imagine the team somewhere deciding that the weedy guy was too negative, he didn’t embody the brand in a positive way.

“I think people might think the product is weedy too…I just feel it’s too negative”.

“Good point Gustav, what we need is a more positive image.”

“Yes, and we need a woman in there so housewives can relate to the user – because men don’t really do cleaning”

“Thanks Maria, good point.”

That Maria is a bit sexist if you ask me.

To my mind they fundamentally lost what makes a good advertising idea work.

The hero is all about the brand, the weedy guy is all about the benefit to you, the bathroom attendant and therefore the brand.

Truth is, clients can often miss the point and go straight to what the pictures in front of them appear to be saying purely on a visual level.

It’s the semiotic argument.

But to paraphrase Eric Morecombe, do all the right notes in the wrong order still add up to a concerto?

At one point in the third act of the film ‘Notting Hill’, you’ll remember that Hugh Grant and the gang all pile in to a small car with a lion in its logo. The cookie sister shouts to Rhys Evans as he squeezes in to the boot ‘You’re my hero’ and they whizz off to stop Julia Roberts from leaving town, to the tune of ‘Gimme some Lovin’.

473a6b117f9cfeae2b078dab43eec665

I only found out about this a couple of years ago that this was a secret sponsorship, product-placement kind of a deal, brokered by the the account director on the car account I used to work on.

Unsurprisingly, it bypassed our creative department entirely.

It showed the family car could take a lot of people (obviously) and the ‘hero’ line was spot on the branding strategy about heroes that that particular car brand was employing at the time.

The client loved it. They couldn’t sign up quick enough.

That little deal cost them about £150k and it went straight in to the pocket of Working Title films and became an iconic moment in a much loved movie.

But wait a bloody minute.

I’ve seen that film a dozen times and all I saw was a group of friends jumping in a car and driving though london.

And I worked on the brand!

All the right notes, not necessarily in the right order.

Maybe it had some semiotic effect that I don’t know about, but even with all those branding elements that the client held dear and spent millions on, it still didn’t add up to an actual message.

Pharmaland is full of images that capture the ‘brand essence’ or even the MOA without making a connection with the doctor or end user in any meaningful way. We mistake branding ideas for ideas that connect with our audience, the orange bridge, the blue apple, or I dunno….the red sodding banana all probably encapsulate their respective brands perfectly, without ever actually meaning a bloody thing.

What we need in Pharmaland, heck even adland in general, is less hammers looking for nails and more advertising ideas.

Or at the very least, to be able to know the difference.

 

 

 

 

 

 

How a brand can punch above its weight.

Back in the 90s I was fortunate to do a fair amount of international jet setting due to being the jammiest git alive and working on a car account.

The ads were popular somewhat but never that great –  which was always unsatisfactory, but the trips were the consolation prize.

We used to go to LA quite a bit and stay at the Sunset Marquee hotel. The names I could drop, if I had a mind to.

Which I do.

The infamous ‘Whisky bar’ within the hotel, was where every night Slash would set up his table and be surrounded by hangers on. Jeff Beck, would usually be hanging around in his cap sleeve T-shirt, we were there on the night the Sex Pistols played LA on their reunion tour and were politely drinking in the foyet. We’d come from a schmancy restaurant in Beverly Hills where we sat next to Densel Washington while Elle McPherson was talking with Joe Pesci at the bar.

I once noticed an old man dining alone at the Sunset’s small restaurant but resisted the urge to ask if he wanted a chat. It was Paul Newman.

Super models roamed the corridors and I remember one afternoon we shared some late sun with Billy Ray Cyrus, Mylie’s old man.

All of these encounters and sightings should have prepared me for what happened one evening in the Whisky bar.

I tell this story as no more or no less than a story about branding and how a brand speaks and behaves and how important it can be.

The name dropping is purely gratuitous.

But we’ll get to that.

Now: Whisky.

(In this ‘dry month’ of January it seems appropriate to talk about the hazards of the demon drink.)

So anyway, whisky has an effect on me like no other drink.

While I have never been an aggressive person, it does slightly give me a false sense of my own macho-ness, let’s say.

Wine, makes me fall asleep at the table and Tequila can lead to all sorts of mischief. I’m sure your experiences are similar.

But the night in question, it was whisky at the Whisky bar.

We had returned to the hotel after casting or shooting or location hunting or some such production based pastime.

A very good friend and colleague of mine at the time was an assistant producer named Liza, she has since grown up and had babies but at the time she was an attractive young woman in her twenties ( and obviously still is!) and as an agency team we felt protective of our assistant producer, she was like a kid sister.

As we sat outside on the small patio she wafted through the doors in to the evening LA fug, if not exactly like a goddess, certainly like an attractive assistant producer.

Oh alright, a goddess sounds better.

I then heard a cockney voice shout out something like ‘Oi. you…over ‘ere!’

It was the mating call of the lesser spotted London geezer and Liza had caught his eye.

Although quite innocuos in retrospect I took affront to this indelicate language addressed at our assistant producer….as if she was some parlour maid.

I stood up and approached this braggard.

Yes, braggard.

I should say that at this point I was more than a little sozzled and words like braggard and parlour maid were frothing to the top of my internal vocabulary, turning me in to some sort of psychotic Lord Melchett.

I approached this bounder who was sat delicately perched on the low brick wall. One push would have done it.

He looked me up and down, unimpressed.

What followed was a strange sort of conversation, there was a lot of ‘don’t speak to women like that’ and a lot of ‘who the fuck are you, her dad?’ type replies.

Then a few “yeahs??? and a few “whatchagonnadoaboutits”.

You know how stupid people (ok men) can get when this sort of thing happens.

But for the first time in my life, and thankfully the last, I felt like I was the guy in charge here.

I didn’t waver, for all intents and purposes I was a hard nut.

Not because I looked hard, or spoke hard. But because I believed it. Yes, it was mostly Glen and his merry band of fiddichs, Morangies and Livets backing me up, but there I was – being macho.

There was a sort of stand off. To be fair this guy wasn’t backing down either.

But neither did he make a ‘move’.

There was an awkward sort of ‘yeah..well mind your language’ kind of unsatisfactory ending to the ‘face-off’ but I at least walked away with my dignity.

And it was over. I couldn’t believe that was even me.

We made our exit to the bar where Mark my boss and Nick the account director were standing laughing their heads off.

I assumed at my idiotic behaviour.

And they were of course, but I had had no idea quite how idiotic I had been.

And frankly you may be thinking that there’s nothing special about this sort of loutish behaviour, men square up to each other the world over every night of the week. It’s embarrassing and nothing to be proud of.

Well, here is where we get to the advertising insight part.

How a brand behaves and acts IS THE BRAND. You don’t need to work your way up to be a brand leader in terms of how you conduct your brand personality, you can just start behaving like a brand leader and so long as you stay faithful to that tone, you can fool pretty much anyone. Even yourself.

Product is what it does, Brand is how it behaves.

“Do you know who that was?” My chums said as I returned to the warm safety of the agency huddle, expecting at least a small degree of newly discovered respect.

“No, who?”

“Have you ever heard of Gary Stretch?”

Hmm..the name rang a bell.

“What the WBC International Light Middleweight title holding Gary Stretch?”

“The now living in LA as an actor Gary Stretch”

“You just nearly got the shit kicked out of you”.

To be frank, it wouldn’t take an ex-professional boxer to kick the shit out of me, but yes – they had a point.

The one time I decide to be a macho idiot and I pick the best pound for pound fighter of his generation.

And lived to tell the tale.

Tone of voice really is everything.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s how we do it, so it must be right.

Take GM crops.

We all know they are bad for the future of the human race. The scary world of science is mutating our crops and causing us all to grow two heads and speak in squeaky voices.

Or something.

It’s what we call ‘received wisdom’.

Received wisdom can be a bit of a bugger though.

When something is decided by a group of people, the media or even the average advertising client and agency, it can be hard to change the way you do things subsequently.

We cling to our received wisdom like a granny on a zip-line.

Logos go bottom right. Doctors don’t like being told they’ve been doing it wrong by suggesting this drug is more right. You need a call to action. BOLD CAPS is the best way to hammer home your key points. Icons make your ad work harder. Don’t have anyone in the ad that isn’t the exact target patient. Always show the positive. Don’t anthropomorphize animals and never set anything in ten point for a diabetes patient. (Poor eyesight) and don’t have negative sounding words.

I could go on.

So what has this to do with GM crops?

Well it may surprise you to learn that an exhaustive study by a 20 strong committee of experts from the US National Academies of Science has scoured three decades worth of scientific papers and data for the evidence of GM crops being the closest thing to eating radioactive sewage on our health and it has proved to be……..almost non existent.

Indeed in some cases it has even improved the health of its customers. (Fewer insecticide poisonings through the use of insect resistant crops and the prevention of blindness through boosting vitamin A content in rice.)

What the fuck?

Obviously I am no GM crop expert, I only steal stuff from articles I read in The Times. (so send angry letters their way) and I am sure there are other concerns that could be raised. But the point is we do tend to, as an industry, approach our projects accepting a degree of that’s just the way it is.

Maybe we just need to all look closer at the many successful creative campaigns that keep things simple and rely on the concept to do the hard work.

Because it seems weirdly that for some Pharma brands you can break all the rules and the sky doesn’t cave in.

1: Always be positive.

95ee6fa318aec1c78848de66e902aa14adb8c822

2. Always have the logo bottom right.

1HP035_KenteraDryMouth_r

3. Always have a big call out

100027_71_main

4. Don’t use humour

1000_100070_160

5. Don’t have type that’s hard to read.

1C029_HypertensionAwarenesHearts_r

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Haute couture on the Cotes d’azure

Arriving last weekend at Cannes Lions I was struck by the level of new technology and interactivity on show.

In real time, you can interact with 3-dimensional people and experience what looks like an actual talker talking on a stage about social media, while you yourself can actually be on social media.

#amazing!

I know I was waving my arms around like an idiot trying to touch things that were in front of my face before Phil told me that they actually were in front of my face.

VR can be confusing.

On Saturday morning most of the London creative fraternity were busy experiencing a virtual reality ‘hangover’ that accurately represented the clawing fug and pain of ‘going large’ on the first night.

It’s amazing what can be done these days.

Meanwhile the awards were the talking point around most of the ‘interactivity pods’ conveniently located in nearby restaurants.

The usual concerns of the work being ‘nothing like what we actually do day to day’ seemed to be a recurring theme again this year.

But does it matter?

Not for me.

There are plenty of awards systems around the world that honour the work we do every day, but what Cannes offers, much like Paris in the Spring and Autumn, is a glimpse of the unattainable.

Think of the work we celebrate on the Croisette like the Haute Couture shows of Paris, Milan, London and New York that parade the ludicrous, the outrageous, the frocks that look like biscuits and the shorts made of concrete – in the name of fashion.

These are not clothes for anyone to actually wear.

Nobody goes around in a pair of trousers that look like two wet fish, but what happens slowly over the course of the year is that fishscale styling appears, biscuit emblems on T-shirts emerge and concrete looking fabric creeps in to the high street.

Cannes is about inspiration. And that’s to be applauded. Who cares if it’s all a bit dodgy?

One CD from Brasil that I was chatting to said he knew of a winning campaign that the agency devised two weeks before the closing date, found a client and got it to run. (does any work actual ‘run’ anymore?)

What he really meant was they got some people to try it out, filmed them using it, put it on twitter and got some PR around it. That’s ‘running’ these days.

So be it. Maybe we all need to play the game. Ideas have transcended traditional media across the advertising landscape. If you are still doing old fashioned branded ad campaigns you are effectively ruling yourself out of the gongs.

My advice to you is get some cool technology and find a way to link it with your brand. Rembrandt and Banking, its an obvious connection. Rembrandt was a painter and the banks now own all his work.

Okay that’s the positive.

What about the less than positive. ( 5 years in healthcare and the word negative has been beaten out of me)

It’s the weasling notion of the ‘healthification of everything.’

I know it sounds cool and inclusive, but hold on a bloody buggering moment.

I don’t care about consumer agencies muscling in, let them come, but what constitutes a health care or wellness campaign these days?

Surely it should be about the target market?

One excellent campaign was for a paint brand that linked colour to colour-blindness. They made a set of glasses that ‘cured’ people’s affliction. (more accurately – ‘appropriated’)

Fair enough you may think, that’s healthcare.

But if they are targeting the colour-blind as a target market in its own right it seems a rather small market for a paint manufacturer.

Like a pill sold by Stella Artois that reproduces the effects of a hangover for the tee-total, so they can feel as shit as the rest of us on a Sunday morning. They’re still not buying any pints.

(In fact I may pitch that to them)

What is more likely, and even admirable from an advertising point of view, is that they are using the glasses to be inspiring about colour. But let’s be honest here, in so doing they are….well, just flogging paint.

And fair play to them, but fuck off and do it in the consumer categories!

Surely a healthcare campaign, be it from a consumer agency or not should be defined by its attempt to target a patient or HCP market?

The healthification of everything could, by a more cynical blogger than myself, become just a backdoor entry to the Lions Health awards by any old product that can find a quasi-medical angle.

Cars with auto-parking: save lives. Bottles of water: cure dehydration. The lawnmower: reduces hayfever. The Bluetooth speakers: Reduce wire based accidents in the home.

Nevertheless, this is all mere trifles.

I continue to find Cannes inspiring, infuriating and challenging in equal measures.

So what is still the real challenge of lions health?

A Grand Prix from a branded pharma campaign. Or is that just insane?

If so, I could probably enter the entry in some category for mental health.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eggs in the airing cupboard

In consumer adland we often get the chance to experience the products we peddle.

If we’re lucky enough to work on a car account we get to do a driving day for a new model, if the latest beer is being launched we can down a few pints and really get a feel for the…ahem…taste. The consumer world is full of easily accessible products from Tampons to Tanning products, from condoms to Coca Cola for us to sample and improve our understanding of the ‘user experience’.

But in Pharmaland the very thing we often have to promote is so far removed from our daily lives as to make it almost impossible to truly know the wretchedness of the people whose lives we attempt to affect.

We have to put ourselves in the place of a diabetic, we must project ourselves in the psyche of an Oncologist or Endocrynologist without ever truly experiencing their position or decision making process.

There are no tasting sessions in this game.

On that rare occasion the two streams cross, the career path of a creative and a debilitating disease, it can either be deeply inspiring or like some giant emotional mangle. Sometimes both.

This recently happened to me.

My mother, a sprightly eighty three this year, has for some years now been suffering from Alzheimer’s.

And last month we pitched for an Alzheimer’s drug.

I thought this would be a breeze at the outset, after all we had lived with her forgetfulness, her muddles, her loss of vocabulary and her familiar coping mechanisms for some time now. It had almost become routine, sometimes even funny.

Despite the sad awfulness of this cruel disease, and as in poor taste as it might seem, there can be some humorous moments. The bleakness of the future can be forgotten in the bitter sweet surreality of discovering eggs in the airing cupboard.

Like many families, you watch one of the most important figures in your family go from a sparkling, glamorous, larger than life character to a diminished old lady who sometimes doesn’t make sense any more and sits in tha backseat on car journeys pointing out trees.

However I was unprepared for the impact of that thing we so easily call an ‘insight’.

One of our creative teams hit upon this idea that stopped me in my tracks and appealed to me as a creative for its simplicity and insight but also as a family member of a sufferer. Everyone involved agreed it was a great idea and we duly put it in to the pitch deck.

A couple of other good ideas joined it, tackling other aspects of the disease or carer perspective but we mostly agreed that the winning idea was that first idea.

At this point I was the Creative Director and oddly dispassionate. Get the copy right, get the type looking nice. Select the right shots, create the best images.

And then came the pitch rehearsals.

At our agency we place great value in these, get it well rehearsed and with a simple message and well…… let’s not give too much away.

Anyway, as I started to describe the thinking behind the concept I became rather overwhelmed.

For the first time and in what seemed a ludicrously random moment I began to sob.

Like most adult men, with years of conditioning that big boys don’t cry, it was mostly a case of going silent. Trying to control the wobble in my throat.

(I’d like to be able to say that I am mostly hard as nails, but frankly I cry at quite a lot these days. Mostly happy things, pride in my kids that sort of thing, quite the wimp.)

I wiped my cheek with a forearm and suddenly got a grip.

No need to apologise.

Well, that’s that done with.

Yet at the pitch, my big worry was that I would be overcome with emotion once more.

Cut to the big day.

There were fifteen potential clients looking on, waiting for some pearls of wisdom to sprout from my mouth about the ideas projected on the screen. Then there was this tightening in the throat, a moment slightly longer than a pause, slightly shorter than an intermission.

I could sense Phil ready to jump up and take over, apologising for me as he swept me to my chair like a feeble old fool, a towel over my head as he mouthed a silent apology.

You don’t experience that kind of emotion when pitching for a consumer brand.

You’ll be glad to learn I managed to pull it back and carry on.

The rest of the team exhaled.

The thing about Alzheimer’s is that the slow diminishing of what makes the patient them –  is almost imperceptible.

It starts with an oddly normal remark. “You never told me that” when you know you did.

“You never showed me that” when you just did. Those easily dismissable events, the kind of thing that can be put down to old age or a ‘bad day’ will progress to not being able to put the kettle on or remember grandchildren’s names.

And beyond.

I write this, recognising fully I am not alone in this acute experience. We all have close family and friends who have battled cancer, who have lived with chronic disease, some who have survived, some not so fortunate.

But if you are thinking of making that change from consumer to pharmaland I can say this.

I worked in consumer adland for over twenty five years, I loved every minute. But I have never had an experience like this pitch and it somehow makes me realise, if I hadn’t already, that what we get to do on this side of the advertising channel is about a real life, a rawness, that adland can only dream of.

The ad contrarian himself, the legendary Bob Hoffman, talks about how little people really care about brands. Yes, if Coke went bust tomorrow people would get over it by the next day and start drinking Pepsi. Whatever we like to think of pharma’s marketing and it’s traditionally conservative creative campaigns, what we do has authenticity.

A car can never compete, a supermarket can only dream of the raw impact of a pharma brand on a patient’s quality of life.

We are lucky to be a part of this sector.

And the pitch?

Inspite of, or possibly because of this unique experience, (and of course not forgetting the whole team’s contribution) we did in fact win.

And for my part, I have my Mum to thank for that.