alarm ergonomics

This morning, something very odd happened. Oddly pleasant. My alarm(s) went off and I didn't immediately transform into some horrific monster-zombie-thing rising from the dead. Instead, I had this odd little voice inside of me say, "Oh, okay . . . I guess it's time to get up."

That's never happened before!

After hitting snooze, of course, I was able to pinpoint why my internal monologue was so well-tempered this morning: a fade-in alarm. Absolutely genius, ergonomically speaking.

Suddenly jolting in bed, throwing the covers up over my head, and running across the room to attack such a mind-numbing noise seems so unnecessary. Instead, I'm able to actually process that the alarm is just a well-intentioned, self-inflicted wake-up call.

I should've seen this one before. I warn people that I'm not a "morning person" and that most attempts to have a morning chat are futile -- I turn into a prehistoric caveman; one who hasn't fully developed socially appropriate language skills, but instead resorts to "get away from me" grunts. The similarities all make sense now.

So, bravo to the makers of the iHome -- your work boasts a wonderful user experience.

Anyway. Good morning, everyone.

a thought

After some recent soul searching, I wanted to share some of what I found.

Cheers.

combination of ideas

There's a certain collectivity in advertising that isn't quite as pervasive in other fields.

Here's an anecdote that might illustrate what I mean (without flat out saying it, of course): My family has started to understand basic advertising speak in the way that international children do when they dive into their first taste of the American school system after growing up in another country -- the need to survive kicks into high gear, so language becomes less and less of an obstacle.

When I start to mention BBDO or DDB or WK or OMD or PHD or KBP or GSP or BSSP or . . . well, TBWA, I've begun to get chuckles these days instead of head nods of encouragement. Why the chuckles? Well, they've picked up on the humor that sits on the surface of advertising nomenclature: every agency name follows the same pattern. And when you have enough of them, there starts to be some overlap. And the overlap, my friends, is where the humor lies.

But why is it funny? I'm too blasé to notice, of course, but it's interesting -- if not coincidental -- that so many groups of men (and yes, they were mostly men) came up with the idea to build a business around original ideas. Original thinking in a sea of sameness. Certainly interesting

But taking a step back, I think there's something worthwhile to consider for those in the business, as well as those not in the business. Although entrepreneurial enterprises continue to pop up around the world due to individual endeavors, advertising has developed a pattern of grouping some minds together, throwing a flag in the ground and starting work on "creative work."

(Don't let the passive aggressive quotations sway you away from my point; I've used them here just to show how common that phrase is throughout industry speak.)

When it comes to ad agencies, there's a unique habit of combining the best minds to create even better ideas, even if they seem to be replaceable and arbitrary on the surface of the matter.

That's a really, really great thing to have by your name. (Or names, rather.)

I've been intrigued for a while with the punctuation that agencies chose to use in their names. Some use "&" to connect names (or initials) whereas others use "+" . . . and still others use "/" . . . or used the other way "\" as is the case with TBWA. Recently, I've seen a resurgence in simply using commas, which is nice . . . although those agencies might be chastised in the industry for lack of symbolic creative connectors. But whatever floats your boat, I say.

So what does all this mean, and why is it so important to ramble on about? It's simple.

If there exists an industry that has such a deeply rooted history of combining minds to creatively solve problems, why are we not continuing to evolve that industry? The fact that we value other thoughts so much stands as probably the industry's greatest strengths. So why is there not a continual pursuit for new or better ideas?

And I don't mean new or better advertising ideas.

Arguably, there might be an answer to this question in the nature of teams. Teams combining, taking sides and battling over clients becomes a dirty, dirty game . . . and there are teammates jumping ship, there trades, there's cheating, and there's controversy over how much the other team is spending on half-time snacks when the annual budget can only afford orange slices and gatorade. (Apologies for the extensive soccer metaphor -- hope you could follow the nuances, though) Essentially, teams can be very good, but when the game goes on as long as it has, things can begin to go bad.

So I think it's time we start a new game. One that pins teams against each other in healthy competition, and one that brings different sorts of people and perspectives together.

In advertising, the goal should ironically not be advertising. Advertising problems can no longer be solved with advertising solutions. Everyone is losing that old game as we speak. We need to recruit people who favor design solutions, business solutions, technological solutions, social solutions. But most of all, there needs to be an understanding of the people solutions if we're going to get anywhere.

Winning games right now is fine. I'm happy to hear about victories in the field. But as we move forward, we should think about how awesome the game might be if we bring new people on board. Instead of resting on our laurels, let's play a really, really good game.

i'll try to stop stealing, despite my genius.

I just realized my last 2 posts have been planners' slideshare presentations. Sorry, Faris, but I'm not quite sure I'm stealing as you intended -- I'll try to pull from a wider range of sources.

But I don't regret snagging the stuff I did.

Just thought I'd point it out. Elephant in the room.

commit. don't campaign.

Some insightful thoughts from Paul Isakson on why campaigning is no longer relevant for brands. It's all about committing. Pretty popular right now on the plannersphere, but I thought it might be helpful to post it up here, too.

Cheers.

Modern Brand Building

View more presentations from Paul Isakson.

find your own planning style

A very precise (yet comprehensive) summary of a few planning styles out there. Thanks, Richard.

Thought-provoking, clear, introspectively curious. Like most good planners, I've found.

Cheers.
Developing your own planning style

View more documents from adliterate.

book covers

I'm not sure what it is exactly that grinds my gears so much, but I truly detest book covers.

I just read a post by Seth and it seemed to have got me thinking. So here are a few thoughts.

Let me back up. First of all, I only hate them when I'm reading the book. Here some example of when I truly love and depend desperately on the book cover:

While I'm shopping for a specific book title, I typically have the title and author stored in the back of my mind, but I scan for the image of the cover. Kind of like I'm matching a finger print. If the cover wasn't a part of the package, I'd be wandering around the bookstore for hours -- and if it were Strand, it'd be days.

If I'm looking at a new book on the shelf, I'm notorious for only looking at it if it's graphically pleasing. That is to say, I'm a whore for bright colors and odd arrangements of type. Most political books bore me before I even open the cover.

When I've finished a book, and place it back on my shelf, the book cover needs to be there. It just has to be. The sense of accomplishment or my knowledgeable existence is undermined if the object I place back on the shelf is not whole or complete. The book turns into 300 pages of insight and entertainment, to 300 pages of false hope and wasted time.

All that being said, it's imperative for me to point out that book covers (or jackets as they're often called by middle school librarians) are not to be kept on during the reading process.

They slide up and down, thereby distracting the reader from the contents of the book.

They capture whatever your hands have been touching throughout the day -- and in New York, the last thing I want on my pure white book cover is subway grime and the coughs of NY Independent Elders, as I call them. (As a side note, I'd like to point out that I try my best to stay away from both of the aforementioned items on my trek back and forth from work . . . just to clear my name.)

They are not bookmarks. The flaps of a book cover should not be used as bookmarks -- a post-it note folded in half fulfills the function much better and more appropriately than flaps that were created to grip desperately to the edges of a hardcover book.

Obviously, this is a touchy topic for me.

I'd just like to point out that I do not judge other people for their use (or misuse, rather) of book covers -- they are free to use it however they please. After all, they bought it with their own money -- who the hell am I to dictate how-to instructions for their $13.95 purchase.

Thanks, Seth, for your post. And thank you, everyone -- your patience is much appreciated.

a rant over diction

I absolutely hate the word ‘advertising.’

So you can imagine the conversational obstacles when I explain what I do for a living and what I studied in school. And then there’s the confusion that sets in when I go into just how much I love advertising.

But I truly do hate the word. Loathe it. There are a lot of people that try to wean themselves off of bullshit marketing terminology in order to make their everyday speak a bit more “real” or “human” or -- my favorite -- “social.” But in my opinion, merely finding a temporarily admirable substitute for a word you so desperately want to use on a day-to-day basis is no way to operate in business. Say what you mean, I say.

There are many reasons for my belligerent diction. Built-up over time, they seem to have erupted out of suppression and continually fuel my boundary-pushing planning style. But in the interest of time, consideration and simplicity, I’d like to point out 3 of the major reasons.

(1) It assumes things too willingly.
We all have our weaknesses. Or those things in life that we can’t seem to muster up any tolerance for. One of mine is belabored, redundant, verbose client briefings. You know the ones – where the language about objectives and methods and strategies and ideas and product somehow goes from the mouths of people sitting at one end of the table to nodding heads sitting at the other end.

Yes, these are important moments in a business conversation. Yes, it’s an awesome time to get everyone on the same page. And yes, it’s the ideal time to ask questions.

But what I have no patience for is an assuming speaker (and audience, for that matter). Why is the answer “advertising”? And how – exactly – do you know that it will clearly show two product benefits in a 30-second TV spot?

To me, advertising (I’ll continue to use the word in this context simply for clarity sake) is only a solution to the business problem. But it’s not always the solution. So I’m not entirely sure why problems are brought to ad agencies and they’re told to “fix it with advertising.”

Instead, those meetings should be about talking about the legitimate problem being faced, and inspiring everyone in the room to embrace every possible solution.

(2) It connotes a quota for success.
Beyond just assuming the solution at the beginning of the process, assuming the word “advertising” into everyday conversation sets up a very specific forecast for “success.”

If we can all agree that we’re starting at point A as a team, and we look off into the horizon at point B that was oh so eloquently described in that initial client meeting, what role does a group of creative thinkers play in the process other than figuring out a way to hop on board the TV spot band wagon and hope it’s the most creative, award-winning, category-redefining, results-driving TV spot there is (and ever will be)?

A very small role.

But why? If agencies are really set up to be hotbeds for creative thought and problem solving strategy, why is a quota of specific media or a list of “important” benefits set-up at the beginning of the whole process? That’s like giving a child a puzzle and saying, “ You can only use your right hand with this one, because you did such a fantastic job with the last one.”

But what would happen if there was less assumption at the beginning of the process? What would the solutions look like? Would there be inclusion of things beyond just profit? Or ROI? Or purchase intent? Or other such traditional things?

I would argue that there might be more room for other important success trackers. Loyalty. Sociability. Happiness. Connectivity.

You can’t create a quota for connectivity.

(3) It suppresses childlike creativity.
I know at this point it seems ridiculously cliché and – given the industry we’re in – a bit surface level, but one of the truly remarkable messages that a brand has offered to consumers is the idea of “think different” offered by Apple. Truly genius.

Why is that?

At least to me, it seems that there is much more long-term value in being different, rather than just new or better. Being different involves a very purposeful repositioning – not just on the product or brand side, but on the consumer side as well. When someone strolls into an Apple store to buy an iPhone or Mac of some sort, there’s a certain popular irony – although everyone seems to have one of these little boxes of technology, a simple transaction can bring me that “difference” I so desperately yearn.

Before my Mac, I was regular. After it – even just 30 minutes after my regularness – I am different. But not just being different, but thinking differently.

That’s an inspirational thought, albeit a bit commercial and ironic.

But think about the implications of that moment for the development of advertising. There is a clear (and at this point, quite popular) value of thinking differently. Thinking new, better, best, updated, or even shiny is sometimes valued, but different is always valued.

I’m not entirely sure we should be denying anymore that “different” has many faces.

When I was in 3rd grade, I vividly remember a number of situations when a problem was given to the class and each set of partners would have to work for 30 minutes to find a solution. The catch? There was not one right answer.

That pissed the hell out of us. Even as 9-year-olds, you could have probably seen the smoke shooting out of our ears. But the nice part of being a child is you get over things much quicker, so we dove right in.

When we presented our solutions to the class, I remember being absolutely astonished at the final presentations. Some people used colored papers, some mimed their solution (which I always chalked up as undeniable laziness), while still others built things out of chairs in the hallway.

It was a really cool moment. Everyone did something differently, but each solution solved the “problem.” (I use that term loosely, as I’m not sure I believe 9-year-olds truly go through many problems in their puny little lives).

Fast-forward. I’m not sure our advertising adventures should be treated that much differently from those projects we worked on when we were 9-years-old. There is still the initial problem. There is still a call for “help” with it. There is still that initial frustration that it hasn’t been figured out yet. But most importantly, there is still the potential to solve it in the most creative way possible.

Why? Because there is a value in thinking differently that is sometimes beyond words. And using the word “advertising” throughout the process of solving tough communication problems is not solving anything differently. It’s not even getting us to think, most of the time.

It’s time we throw the word away. We shouldn’t be solving problems the way we already have. Instead, let’s solve problems the best way we can.