You're good at what you do. You study and listen and read - honing your trade - only to understandably and occasionally forget that behind the progress toward success are real neighbors consuming your work.
So you must ask - and keep asking - not the myopic, "How can I get customers to fall in love with my product?" but a more generous, "How can I love by getting this product to my customers?"
I've had this type of job - the kind I couldn't wait to discard. My relationship with it was tense because I wanted out but had to stay; I wanted more meaning but it was in the way.
So I acted like I do when I sulk. I stayed mad instead of proactive. I crossed my arms instead of exercising creativity. Neither of us were better for it.
The wife's embrace suggests that maybe he should be working less, but that doesn't remedy the problem at hand. When work is a means to a consumptive end, then leaving the office at 3:02 p.m. elicits celebration and teary-eyed relief. But when I give through work, and express through work, and worship through work - even hard work - then I enjoy it. It becomes bearable and I even begin to see the difference I make in the world.
I get IKEA's point about sale prices. But what employee can sustain a work view like that?
I sat in a wilderness medicine class recently with colleagues, discussing the symptoms and treatment of shock. Shock is a potentially life-threatening result of dramatic changes in the blood system (heart failure, volume loss, vessel dilation, etc.). But it comes in mild forms, too, like nervous sweating.
Nervous sweating is a form of psychogenic shock. You won't die from psychogenic shock, of course, though it may feel that way. Psychogenic shock occurs when you're about to give a public talk, or just before you enter an interview. Your vessels dilate, making your blood pressure drop, making you lose oxygen, making you breath faster, making your heart beat faster, making you light-headed and - publicly worst of all - making you sweat.
All quite natural. But not acceptable.
According to a recent NY Times article, despite the economic decline, "major deodorant brands are actually experiencing a bump in sales, thanks to recent introductions of stronger 'clinical' formulations." Why, as companies introduce stronger "clinical" anti-perspirants, are we buying them up? Because it isn't acceptable to show fear, and we'll do anything to hide it.
Nervous sweat discloses fear. Sweaty armpits reveal insecurity. We're afraid of public speaking because we're afraid of rejection.
Human beings need to be loved, so much so that our bodies respond systemically to the threat of rejection. Advertisers know about these insecurities and I'm glad they promote a relatively inexpensive coping mechanism. But you can't live forever coping. The best treatment for any type of shock is to follow the symptoms to the cause. Anti-perspirants deal with a symptom, but they don't treat the cause.
This week, think about this seemingly harmless product. See it as an excuse to explore deeper issues like trust, insecurity and the failure to believe you are loved. If you find yourself here, I'd like to say, Don't sweat it. Then again, maybe you should. ;)
"Reflecting on the state literature in communist Russia, Leon Trotsky said that the problem wasn't that Russia lacked enough good writers, but that there were not enough good Russian "communist" writers. In other words, few writers were so steeped in the communist world view that their literature naturally and integrally breathed communism. We could say the same thing about the body of Christ today."
I came across Brian's article many years ago and it had a memorable influence on my work. It's clear, relevant, and helpful. The primary audience is students in the university, but...but, it applies directly to anyone with a job. I mean that. Check it out and see how it connects to your situation.
According to Brian, people practice one of the following:
Isolation = We separate faith from studies/work.
Accommodation = We alter faith to fit studies/work.
Abandonment = We replace faith with studies/work.
Integration = We weave faith and studies/work.
Read the article. Then pick the practice that describes you. Then tell us if you've shifted over the years. (In college I practiced isolation big time. Now I don't...as much.)
Note: Voting is anonymous and will not take you to another website.
"Let's Go" by Visa feels like a combo of the two Johnnie Walker spots I showed here and here. Similar thematic elements: calling, doing something with your life, change, progress, adventure, becoming somebody. Morgan Freeman even asks, "Will you walk out the door and go left instead of right?" Sounds like the crossroads question to me.
"Let's Go" sits better in my conscience than JW's "Crossroads." Maybe because Freeman promotes a bit of goodwill, while the "Crossroads" character lives in a rather self-centered universe. Or maybe because Visa's sun shines friendlier. Or maybe because Visa features hope, while JW, thrill. Not sure.
It doesn't matter much. Hope and thrill and progress and goodwill aside, both brands increase their perceived value by associating unnaturally with human longings. That's my issue. It works like vicarious fame: if I name-drop famous connections - tell you I met a star, stood in the elevator with a world-changer, studied under a genius - your perceived value of me increases. I'm not really more famous or more valuable, but it feels that way.
Ironically, it doesn't matter much that we know these products can't actually fulfill our human longings. Who would rationalize that Visa or JW can add success to a curriculum vitae, or provide a life of adventure otherwise unattainable? Yet Visa and JW bet that we'll try anyway.
This commercial - for scotch whiskey, believe it or not - gives my title's apostrophe two meanings.
"Johnnie Walker's calling" First, it means the calling of Johnnie Walker. You - the Johnnie Walker here - reflect on the calling of your life. You look at the dangers and calculate which path is best. It's fear-based because you want to avoid probable ruin. But suddenly you make a switch and in the darkness, when nothing can be seen, you dismiss fear and choose the unknown. You flag down a car driven by who knows who and going who knows where, and what's the basis for your response?
"Would I be able to spend all time, eternity, in the safety of a place without promise of a thrill?"
Immortality showed up in my last Johnnie Walker post, too. Why does he worry about "all time, eternity"?
Extra credit: For the imaginative types out there, go to second :42. What's in the officer's mouth and what does it mean? Could it represent the loud voice of naysayers: "You can't do it! You won't succeed!"? I'm stuck on this.
"Johnnie Walker is calling" Second, JW does the calling. Of course, now I'm referring to Johnnie Walker the whiskey, not the man. After all, this commercial is about whiskey. Most of us like progress, thrill and adventure, even if we sit in cubicles all day. Ad agency, Bartle, Bogle and Hegarty, knows this, and it associates thrill so closely with JW (the whiskey) that JW seems to be the one calling. Adventure, moving forward, thrill..., these become JW's alluring characteristics. BBH would never want you to experience boredom drinking JW.
I just discovered Johnnie Walker this morning in a TV commercial. This world-leading scotch whiskey has been around since the 1800s, so you can accuse me of being out of the loop. Nevertheless, I have to add my two tardy cents about JW's current and compelling, albeit problematic, marketing effort.
Keep Walking Bartle Bogle and Hegarty (BBH) launched the "Keep Walking" campaign in 1999, with an aim to link Johnnie Walker with progress and success among young professionals. The design above, by Jason Hill, for example, "highlights the journey to the top corner office."
BBH explains, "[I]t's in business that the self-made men find their fullest articulation...creating themselves in the tangible work of a day, they are what they choose to be, inventing their reality brick-by-brick, step-by-step." According to the JW website, "The yellow line represents the journey as he moves forward toward distinction."
Whiskey = Identity The campaign displays simple and consistent creativity, a powerful use of imagery, and an identity-boosting, thrill ride offertory to its primary audience: 25-45 year old men.
But that's the problem. Besides whatever qualms you may have with whiskey in general, "Keep Walking" garners its power by associating whiskey with identity. Identity is the allure. You drink a glass of processed earthen items like barley and water, and you suddenly become a million bucks. The simple ingredients transform you into a culturally elite success story. At least, that's how you feel.
In this commercial, JW goes further by associating itself with the immortalization ofyour identity. But does field grain create social advancement and lasting success? Can water elevate you historically?
Of course not. Association plays that trick on you. Linking these basic items with the high life in graphically appealing ways plays that trick on you. This intriguing Washington Post article explains how JW plays that trick on you.
While I celebrate achievement and encourage the endless placing of one foot in front of another, I detest manipulative illusions and hyper-inflated product values. Succeed, yes; achieve, yes; press on, yes. But none of us can pretend these actions into our lives by wrapping our fingers around a drink.
In my next post, I'll show the commercial that got me started on Johnnie Walker. Stay tuned.
I don't know. I just don't know what to think about stuff like this. I work with college students and grown-ups, not grade-schoolers, so maybe I'm out of touch and missing something and I shouldn't be so hard on this kind of "Christian" marketing (The PJs come in a slightly different girls' version, too).
Or maybe it really is tacky and hokey and unnecessary, and I'm being too soft.
"Oesed" is the name of a magical mirror in Harry Potter y la Piedra Filosofal. You probably know about this mirror already, but I'm just now getting through Rowling's first book...in Spanish. I'm trying to dust off my half-forgotten college major, and at this rate I should have the series read by 2068.
Anyway, as Harry finds out, the mirror "shows us no more and no less than the most profound and despairing desire of our hearts." That's why Harry's reflection shows him surrounded by his long-lost family. Harry lost his family at birth and his heart's desire is to know them. They look so real in the mirror that he tries to touch them, only to grasp air.
Harry's friend, Ronald, sees a different reflection. Because Ronald has always been outperformed by his brothers (and by Harry), the mirror shows Ronald as a team captain and a champion.
"There are men who have been consumed in front of the mirror," Harry is told, "fascinated by what they've seen. Or they've gone crazy, not knowing if what it shows them is real or even possible."
I can think of several images the mirror would show me. We all see something we wish we had.
Seeing the SimGospel El espejo de Oesed makes me think about advertising. Many advertisers care more about moving products than loving customers. To that end, they listen to consumers' hearts solely to devise their own version of a magical mirror.
Curiously, this advertising mirror "shows us no more and no less than something similar to the most profound and despairing desire of our hearts." Not the true desire but something similar to it. This something similar is what I call the SimGospel in On Earth as It is in Advertising? Moving from Commercial Hype to Gospel Hope. SimGospel images in advertising associate so closely with the truth that we believe the consumption of them will lead us to the truth.
We can touch and buy these SimGospel images in stores, seemingly getting us closer to our desires than Harry can get to what he sees in el espejo. And so like "the men who have been consumed in front of the mirror" we, too, begin to go crazy. Just look at our current economy - a deranged product of consumed consumers. Heaven isn't available, but our behavior says we think otherwise.
Harry's mentor helped him see this before it was too late. We also need help. Advertisers must help us toward the truth, not imitate and manipulate us with the SimGospel. And consumers need to recognize what their hearts truly desire, and then wait for it.
Ven, Señor.
To learn more about On Earth as It is in Advertising, follow the links here to read reviews and to purchase a copy for yourself or for a friend who works in advertising.
By birth and by choice I belong to the Steeler Nation. This means I paid more attention to the Super Bowl this year than to the commercials that decorated it. As an advertising critic, this was uncharacteristic of me, but I couldn't help it. Go Pittsburgh!
A few ads caught my attention, however, and here's one in particular called "Double Take":
Work and the concept of calling fill a big file drawer in my brain and in my office. I open this drawer daily and find myself rooting through it, adding to it, mulling over its contents and laying that content onto the table for discussion. It helps that my co-workers share this interest, too.
Because "Double Take" is so visually effective, it instantly creates categories: work as Heaven, and work as Hell. Everyone has unpleasant work to do, but Jesus causes us to do another double take by flipping these categories. In his world, feet washing and humble service have the big office.
Few of us find moose butts appealing, but sometimes that's precisely where we ought to be.
(For another Monster.com commercial and questions about when this isn't precisely where we ought to be, check out "Your calling is calling" and then come back to comment.)
