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THE WAR
“The bottom line is that
the marketing
communication world is in disarray.”
Joseph Jaffe, Life After the 30-Second Spot
Hey, fellow advertiser. Yes, you, red-eyed, with horn-rimmed
glasses and a black turtleneck. Can you pitch a product to a god?
It can't be easy when even the mortals go out of their way to
avoid us.
The remote control, that sword of consumer Damocles, has been
hanging over our collective head for over half a century now.
When the Lazy Bones first appeared in the 1950s, the technology
was advertised (what an irony) as an ad silencer. What did we
do? We set up road blocks by scooping up chunks of air time across
all channels to keep the surfers bumping into our commercials
they were so actively trying to dodge.
The ultimate ad-skipping technologies – the refrigerator,
the microwave and the bathroom – have invited a similarly
ungraceful backlash. We are single-handedly responsible for one
of the largest and potentially most dangerous urban phenomena,
the Super Flush, the massive splash of advertising dollars going
down the drain when all Super Bowl fans head to the bathroom.
Our response? Turning the volume up and slinging the ads within
earshot of our flushing and corn-popping audience.
As the remote control mutates and proliferate, our countermeasures
follow a predictable path of making the ads louder, more intrusive
and more omnipresent. The success of these measures has been unsurprisingly
low and has resulted in more anger than brand loyalty on the part
of the audience whom we try to make loyal in the first place.
The advertisers are frustrated because their forecasts show that
the situation is not about to improve; the first random study
that popped up on Google predicts that DVR adoption will grow
at 47 percent a year through 2008. (2) Most of the current research
points out that anywhere between 70 and 80 percent of DVR owners
skip commercials. What are we going to do about it? Slap banners
right in the middle of the screen when TiVo goes into its fast-forward
mode, that's what.
When AT&T in 1994 launched its first banner on HotWired,
it was exotic, exciting and effective. The interest quickly faded,
and we rushed to gussy it up with pretty colors and animations.
That was fun for a while, but then people turned away and got
back to their business. We upped the ante once again, and came
up with even, we thought, more exciting technologies – exit
windows, interstitials, roll-ons, roll-ups, pop-ups, pop-unders,
pop-all-over-the-place. The very TV spots people were trying to
zap on TV, we began to stream online. We turned the volume up,
too, embarrassing office surfers who scrambled for the "mute"
button and deafening everyone in their headphones.
We were the only ones excited. People responded in kind. First,
they would politely click on the "x" button to get rid
of the mini windows jumping up in their faces. Then they created
a pop-up blocker. Then the pop-up blocker became a standard feature
in all browsers. Then they learned how to block animations. When
that didn’t help, they began to block off the entire ad
servers. Now they’ve come up with Grease Monkey, a technology
that automatically strips every single ad on a web page before
it is even loaded.
The war is on, and we are losing it. And this is one war we don’t
even need to be fighting.
We love our audience, but it is only our fault if no one can
tell. Instead of being a gentle and loyal lover, a prince charming
always ready to help, never a nuisance, we collectively act like
a paranoid stalker, obsessively collecting and fetishizing every
little thing our audience leaves behind. We call our audience
at nights and breathe heavily into the phone, or read a sloppily
written script. We deluge their mail boxes with letters. We jealously
guard our audience’s every move; god forbid that the audience
ever turns away from us. We demand undivided attention. Like an
insecure teenager, we shout obscenities, mistaking disdain for
interest. In an act of desperation, we parade naked bodies. We
burp and fart, and insult our audience’s intelligence. We
doubt their sexual endurance and are never satisfied with their
breast size. We criticize the cars they drive, the clothes they
were, their cooking, parental and gardening skills. We scoff at
their education, habits and tastes. Even our pick-up lines are
so worn out that a simple "may I buy you a drink" would
sound excitingly fresh.
We pay for their entertainment and then demand certain favors
in return.
We generally mean well, though, and sometimes people even love
us back. On those bright days, they laugh at our jokes, answer
our calls, forward our emails, and buy our stuff. They say they
never watch ads on TV, but cheer the reruns of the old ones. They
say they hate ads in newspapers but diligently cut out coupons.
They say they can't stand ads on the DVDs they buy, but rewind
the movie trailers. They pay for glamour magazines that are 90
percent ads. They keep their Yellow Pages tomes nearby. They collect
fridge magnets. They wear our logos. They tattoo our names on
their skin. They are saying how they despise advertisers, yet
Boston’s section of Craig's List hosts some 150,000 ads
they themselves have posted in the recent month. Then Google launched
their AdSense and suddenly they are reading self-help books on
how to boost click-throughs.
We love them. They, it turns out, are not ruling us out of their
lives either. Why can’t we do the right thing and fix this
relationship from dysfunctional into thriving? Sometimes we don’t
know what the right thing would be. Sometimes we do, but the system
won’t let us do what’s right.
The first part is easy. All we really need to know we already
learned in the kindergarten. Reading the Cluetrain Manifesto helped,
too. Play fair. Don’t hit people. Look. If you want to talk
to somebody, have something interesting to say. Follow the path
of the least resistance. Be on time. We would be better off even
if we followed our own slogans. Think different. Be inspired.
Be yourself for a while. Try harder. Just do it. Some advertising
gurus say the business of advertising should not be confused with
the business of entertainment. They were proven wrong by the millions
who downloaded BMW films and then went to the dealerships to test-drive
the car. Others say dry info doesn’t sell. They were proven
wrong by the spectacular rise of Google, a company whose entire
business is to mediate the sales of dry ads, 95 characters at
a time. The entire books of advertising wisdom can be summed up
in one sentence: "Whatever you have to say, say it to the
people who are interested at the time that suits them best in
a way that will keep them listening."
We are also prisoners of the media system we ourselves helped
to set up. It all started quite innocently:
"Consider broadcasting. In its infancy, it was a reflexive
instrument, a tool for selling radio sets. But broadcasting's
real birth might more accurately be dated to the Postum Co.'s
1926 order that its Philadelphia advertising agency, Young &
Rubicam, relocate to New York, the developing center of the broadcast-network
business, to handle the account of its Jell-O division. Within
eight years, that move bequeathed to the listening public "The
Jack Benny Program," "Colgate House Party," "General
Foods Cooking School" and a smattering of other audience-delighting
radio programs." (3)
The very medium that we hoped would bring us closer to the people
has grown into a risk-averse behemoth that is cute to look at
but is harder to teach new tricks than the proverbial old dog.
The 30-second spot that everyone is so willing to see dead that
it just might as well die is not around because it does the job
well – it is considered bad manners now to claim so in public.
It is around because there is nothing to replace it, that is,
nothing convenient and comfortably familiar.
People at Worldwide Wrestling Entertainment are among the few
who are trying something unfamiliar and uncomfortable. In October
2005, WWE began shifting its live coverage to the web instead
of cutting it off for commercial breaks. At least one analyst,
a director of national broadcast for Initiative, immediately voiced
a concern: “Now you're talking about telling the most rabid
of fans to switch to another platform when advertisers are wanting
to talk to them. It sets a dangerous precedent." (4)
Dangerous precedent? WWE may have just dealt a Hulk Hogan blow
to ad skipping, single-handedly incapacitating the Super Flush,
the DVR and the remote. Chris Chambers, WWE’s VP for interactive
media, quoted a house study that showed 60 percent of the simultaneous
TV and computer viewers not channel-surfing away during the commercial
breaks. "If they weren't online, they'd probably go get a
snack or go the bathroom. This way they're probably still in the
same room and can hear the ads."
Instead of exploring the opportunities the DVR offers, we are
trying to circumvent or break the fast-forwarding function. The
DVR threatens the familiar and the comfortable. The DVR is bad.
If we can’t kill the DVR, then we must at least cripple
it.
Prohibitive transaction costs, technological limitations, red
tape, shortage of research knowledge, insufficient infrastructure,
broken communications, conflicting interests, or plain inertia
both on our and media's side have perpetuated the tyranny of the
existing delivery formats, even if these formats have been stretched
to the breaking point.
Pop-up ads annoy consumers and freeze their computers and yet
more money is poured into pop-ups. Spam renders entire email accounts
useless and yet Gateway keeps sending me offers to buy a computer
even though I have already bought one from them and have not expressed
any interest in buying more. Nearly identical credit card offers
from competing banks fill up mailboxes. It’s a vicious circle:
the more cluttered the format, the more advertising is crammed
in it. If there is a law of diminishing returns, it doesn’t
seem anyone in advertising is aware.
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(2) "Study: DVR Adoption on The Rise",
CNET,
accessed online on Dec 20, 2005 at http://news.com.com/Study+DVR+adoption+on+the+rise/2100-1041_3-5182035.htmls
(3) Randall Rothenber, “The Advertising Century”,
Advertising Age, accessed online on Dec.20, 2005 at http://www.adage.com/century/rothenberg.html
(4) James Hibberd, "Internet Ploy by USA 'Raw' Snubs Ads." TV
Week, accessed online on Dec. 20, 2005 at http://www.tvweek.com/lockland.cms?articleId=28898