experience

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about storytelling as marketing. The concept is coming up everywhere I turned, and started to think about examples.

This led me to realize that the stories most brands tell are not very rich. This is not to say they aren’t clear, focused, or interesting; they are simply not deep, engaging, rich narratives.

Let’s consider some examples, starting from the most simplistic, repetitive, shallow (with as little negative connotation as possible) brand stories.

• Gas Stations: One of the following; cheapest gas, most convenient turn off the road, we’ve existed forever.
• Walmart: We carry everything you’re likely to need, for cheap, and we’re open all the time (it’s shallow, but very powerful).
• Hanes: Simple, comfortable, basic clothing at reasonable prices.

Some brands have “stories” that aren’t more than a collection of adjectives or buzzwords. It’s as if they’re afraid to spell things out (either because they don’t know what to say or they’re trying to be cool by holding back):

• Express (and many other mid-tier clothing companies): (From the company page: “Express is the must-have sexy, sophisticated fashion brand for work, the weekend, or going out.” Express, I love your clothes (really), but this means so little to me. What am I supposed to take from it?
• Colleges and Universities: Notorious for buzzwords like; diversity, growth, character, integrity, and community, it’s very hard to get a sense of a particular college/university without visiting (and for some time).
• Car Companies: Similarly, except with words like; sleek, powerful, safe, reliable, maneuverable. Cars have a distinct style, but no real narrative to the corporate story.

Some brands come closer, delivering a very clear picture of their history, product, and intended audience with their brand. It can even come close to a back and forth between customer and consumer. This is as close to narrative branding as I think 99.99% of companies get. Great examples of this are the hodgepodge Volcom/Billabong/Element/Hurley/Quiksilver. I know these brands all hit different markets (albeit all in the alternative sports realm), but their approach makes them similar. Very specific demographic with clothing, marketing, stores, often even employees that are integral parts of their respective worlds (surfing, skating, etc.)

Yet, where is the brand that creates a literal narrative for its customers/users/followers? Where is the brand that will engage people creatively on a continuing basis like a musician or a television show does? What happens when a brand starts dealing in entertainment and experience alongside content? I think that brand wins; the percentage of brands doing that right now is astonishingly small; huge opportunities for those who get there first.

Something I’ve been thinking about recently is the vast importance of experience. Experience is way more important than content. It’s not even close.

A great example (from something outside the business world) is the inside joke. The actual content of an inside joke is often not very funny at all. What makes the joke funny (and have a shelf life that far outstrips even the best one-liners) is that it calls each person back to a shared experience (where something moderately-to-very amusing happened. It’s a very powerful thing.

Marketing gurus continue to tell people about the importance of story telling, and they are absolutely correct. Everything, every product boils down to the experiences you will have with it (and those are all effectively stories; some lasting a few seconds, some lasting years).

I think our anxiety to purchase something is directly related to the type, proximity and quantity of experiences it will be involved in.

Why is it hard to decide what you want at the drive-thru at McDonalds? You’re about to experience eating their food, often alone (so the eating experience is dominant), and you have to choose from a set of choices that you know are very similar.

On the other hand, ordering off the menu at the local college hangout (assuming you’re in college) is much easier, I’ve found. Why? Because the dominant experience is hanging out with friends, talking, and the ambiance/atmosphere. If the food is great, that’s wonderful, but that’s not what I’ll remember five years from now.

No matter what you do, you are in the business of providing an experience. If you don’t know what that experience is, you’re probably not doing a good job of it. Experience is everything; the content is just a vehicle to provide the experience.

I’ll leave you with a metaphysical experience:

“When we die, if we can take anything from this plane, it will be our memories and our experiences.”

-III

Two recent experiences have led me to an interesting question:

How do we decide (consciously or not) what makes us satisfied with life? Why have I always been relatively discontent with my successes, while others seem perfectly (read: more) happy with less?

The question is effectively stated in this video by Chris Brogan, part of the Overnight Success series. The relevant line is at 2:14:

Again, you don’t have to do this. There are other ways to the finish line, but you and me, we’re talking about overnight success.

I know that I’m trying to build “overnight success” and I know that it kind of kills me that I don’t have it yet. What makes such a large level of success so important to me? Why do I need to do something broad, significant, and difficult to find satisfaction? (Not that I’m complaining, or I’d rather be content to watch TV all day, I’m just curious.)

On the flipside; certain simple things are incredibly rewarding. I went bowling last evening after doing design work all day. Bowling on the two lanes to my right was a group of ten friends, probably a few years older than me, just drinking beers, hanging out, and bowling a few games on a Sunday night.

I was struck by how happy the entire group seemed, and I can understand how one could be happy living a life with experiences like that on a regular basis. Yet, here I am, plugging away at something currently very solitary, very inwardly motivated. Why does this drive me the way it does? Why do I require this “difficult” experience to feel satified?

Why do I need overnight success?

Yesterday, I purchased Neil Strauss’ latest book, Emergency. I spent most of my evening reading through the entirety, as I often do with books I enjoy.

I’m not going to review the book here; there are certainly a number of more complete reviews over at Amazon. Tim Ferriss offers a nice review, as well as a free excerpt of the book.

Instead, I wanted to highlight a powerful lesson I learned from reading the book, one I should have learned a long time ago (as I began to examine, read, and interact with a number of successful blogs).

Strauss’ book is (vaguely) about preparing for dark times in the world. Being able to travel freely (with multiple passports), being able to escape from various urban and wild situations, having a plan for exiting the country in the case of a social meltdown, a terrorist attack, or any of a number of other doomsday scenarios.

What is so impressive about the book (and all of Strauss’ work) is that he actually did it. He proves it too; with photographs of every license, certification, passport, and activity he completed. In his previous work, The Game, he actually got involved in the pickup community, and not only engaged with it, but became the best at it.

Credibility is easy when you write about something you’ve already been successful at.

A lot of people (especially in the world of blogging) take the opposite approach, in writing before doing anything substantial, or as they learn to do something well. While this does have value, it is a distinctly different value (see Hugh MacLeod’s current print art campaign). The best work, in my experience comes from people who have succeeded, and then provide a definitive guide for others.

Helping people solve problems is providing value. Something to keep in mind as I move forward.

-Barry