Advertising Dud: Why Great Creative Fails

I have nothing against Eastpack. They started in the 1960s to make duffel bags and knapsacks for the armed forces. Twenty years later, the founder's son noticed that students were using military daypacks as book bags. So they started a new line for students.

They are a tough bag. They even come with a 30-year warranty (except those with item-specific warranties), which is how they came up with the tagline "Built To Resist." That's your background.

Imagine being a copywriter assigned to the account. You have a lot going for you. Military tie-in. Check. Retro cool. Check. Modern designs. Check. Unique selling point. Check. There is no question. If James Dean needed a backpack, this would be it.

So what do you do? Throw all that out the window and rip off an unrelated 1980s video game, changing out the bricks for students who hurl themselves off buildings. They don't even bother to land on the backpacks that are among the toughest in the industry. It's kind of sad.



Sure, there is some pixel art appeal lurking somewhere behind the scenes, but I seriously doubt people are contemplating the unseen connection. Instead, the newest ad campaign from Eastpack is a great example of how more and more advertisers think they need to draw attention to themselves instead of the products they peddle.

Will anyone even remember the brand? The copywriter might remember. But for the company, this is par for the course. They have produced dozens of advertisements where the creative is the hero and the product just an extra.

"Successful advertising sells the product without drawing attention to itself, it rivets the consumer's attention on the product." — David Ogilvy

Look, there is no doubt that the ads approved by Eastpack are an exercise in great creative. But great creative is more art than advertising. The difference is in what happens afterward. Art is designed to elicit an emotional response. Advertising is designed to make you want to purchase (or least know more about) a particular product.

A couple of years ago, Retin Art asked How do you feel about advertising? And in response, penned a post that captures how most people feel. We love it. And we hate it.

Too many advertising professionals are getting too smart for their own good. They want our attention but then never do anything with it once they get it. And that's why great creative doesn't really belong in advertising. It fails so badly that more people would rather read a product review. (Hat tip: copyranter.)

Rethinking Education: Immersion, Part 3 of 3

There are probably several hundred issues that could be pulled out of the recent protests in Wisconsin. But out of them all, the most important one remains largely neglected. The education system is broken. And we collectively broke it.

The reason I say we collectively broke it is that the entire issue is more complex than most people know. For all of the debate in Wisconsin — bankrupting government vs. workers' rights — few people dug deeper than the symptoms to identify the problem.

If they did, some people might have raised an eyebrow to learn that the largest teachers' union in that state also owns the health insurance company that public schools contract. They will learn about it soon enough. I see a bigger problem.

The education system is overwhelmingly complex and inefficient.

The debate ought to have never been about teachers and their salaries. The formula is too complex. It's not like other salaries.

Roughly speaking, average teacher salaries are $45-55k for 180 days of work* (as opposed to 240 days in the private sector) with disproportionate benefits of about $30k and tremendous job security (very difficult to let poor performers go) but this is also offset by paltry starting salaries (some as low as $25k), greater education requirements, shrinking autonomy, and personal investments that many teachers make for their classrooms.

What strikes me as more interesting is that teacher salaries and benefits only account for 30-35 percent of the entire education budget whereas the professional-private sector invests closer to 40-45 percent of its revenue in payroll and benefits. Health care is even higher, with 50 to 55 percent of its revenue in payroll and benefits. (Some sectors are lower too; quick service can be as low as 20 percent.)

In Nevada, I know that the Clark County School District reports that 65 percent of its funding goes to salaries and 21 percent to benefits (which seems to indicate that less than half of the salary allotments go to teachers), which leaves 12 percent for services and supplies. Yet, if only about 30-35 percent of the entire budget goes to teachers, then they only account for about 35 percent (or less) of the entire salary budget. The question to ask is who else receives salaries.

In many cases, administrators make two to three times the amount that teachers do. In other words, the bulk of the salary spending doesn't go to teachers, but rather the people who administer the teachers. The irony is that any time there are cuts to the budget, the people most likely to face cuts are the teachers themselves.

*As someone who teaches, I can attest to the fact that good teachers work unpaid on most weekends. And it is not uncommon to continue researching education materials during the summer for the following year.

The agenda needs to be less on adults and more on kids.

When I helped open a private school in Las Vegas, the philosophy was to place an emphasis on the child's education. While I do not know if it has held up since then, I do know that it was the answer to every question related to the school. From which textbooks to purchase (with teacher-driven input) to how many microscopes they needed in the science lab, it always came back to "everything thing we do is dictated by the educational needs of the children. Period."

Most decisions made by the public school system are not based on this. They are based on school board directives, including which books are useful. They are based on how much union dues can be collected. They are based on a disconnect between teachers and the public over what constitutes fair salaries (and fair benefits). They are based on seniority over performance in all but six states.

At the same time, test scores are ridiculously poor. The dropout rates are unacceptable. And the students, from most surveys, are bored and disengaged with their overall studies (only one country ranks higher in terms of bored students than the U.S.). I even raise an eyebrow when my son shares how his education is invested — rallies featuring McDonald's, rule refreshers as to why students aren't allowed to shake hands, career quizzes pointing to jobs that may be gone in ten years, etc.

A student-first ideology makes sense because it removes all the burdens from the education system. It also increases teacher support because teachers are the biggest student assets. Great teachers will have an impact regardless of any other tools (whether tech or textbooks).

However, in order to move forward, school districts will need to consider modular tools, including smart boards and tablets for students — even if that means a certain percentage of parents have to purchase them much like parents are asked to purchase school supplies or uniforms or any number of other items kids need for school (with sponsor opportunities for certain income brackets). Tablets would reduce some of the costs associated with other materials and make books more accessible to the students.

But I would hold off on too many tech investments. School districts have a tendency to put tech ahead of the students. If the overall education system isn't working, then it doesn't matter what tools you have at your disposal. And, the overall plan isn't working.

Three considerations for an overall plan.

From what I've been told, school districts tend to remove autonomy from teachers in the classroom. (In my personal experience, the best teachers complained about administrative directives whereas the worst teachers supported it. Weird, I know.) To be effective, school districts could be changed with mapping out expectations (what the kids need to learn by the end of the year) but the teachers need to develop plans that are designed to get the students there and then beyond the mark.

Teacher Autonomy. Teachers need autonomy — even from some textbooks — because many of the books are wrong. (Last summer, we invested in a tutor who promptly untaught our son inferior methods in math.) This places a greater burden on the teacher, but if more funding could be allocated for performance-based raises, they might be more willing to invest.

Transitional Teaching. Another shortfall in education is the lack of transitional planning. The administrative function of assigning kids to their teachers in the following year needs to take place before the conclusion of the school year. This would provide the new teacher or teachers the opportunity to assign material for students to prepare with over the summer.

Student Expectations. The expectation for every student ought to be college, with the higher marks set for college entrance as opposed to a high school criteria. Learning vocations instead of pursuing college entrance ought not be a consideration until the eleventh grade. The reason is simple enough. Many trades are not looking for secondary education; even the greatest percentage of manufacturing jobs in America are classified as highly skilled.

I've mentioned the need for immersive education in the first part of this series. I use the technique too. While I consider every class custom, some structural elements are the same — an introduction that ties in a current event, coverage of common errors from the last assignment, theory related to the subject, case studies related to the subject, execution tips related to the subject, and then an assignment and optional reading based on the subject. Students also rewrite whatever assignment is returned to them.

Applied to math, after covering common errors from the last assignment, I might include the history of an equation, examples of why an equation is used, basic instruction on how to use it, in-class practice and corrections, and then some inventive homework to ensure they can master it. They might also receive an additional assignment based on what they missed with the first. Having not taught math, math teachers are probably best equipped to decide if it would work for them.

I suspect they would need more time than the allotted 50 minutes. But then again, in Nevada, some students have seven 40-minute classes, effectively reducing the teaching time to 30 minutes or less, not counting roll. That needs to change. Education requires more than snack-sized offerings. Expecting students to benefit from seven classes in one day is just a symptom of a struggling system.

Filling Voids: A Company Content Takeover?

Shel Holtz, ABC, principal of Holtz Communication + Technology, wrote a post that touches on a topic area that I wanted to see more companies embrace several years ago. The Internet makes it possible to become your own media company — providing honest, credible, and valuable feature content around your products.

His post, Business-produced content could fill the sharable-content gap created by paywalls takes a slightly different spin that he sees it as a solution to the growing trend among news publishers to put up pay walls. I agree with the concept in part, but then there is the other side of the coin. Companies are not enough to supplant true news coverage.

The Future Media Crisis Will Be A Mile Deep.

Last week, my Writing For Public Relations class was treated to an hour with Bruce Spotleson, group publisher for Greenspun Media. Spotleson has been kind enough to grace the class ever since I started teaching it. He even remarked that he could use it to mark the passage of time.

And this year, he shed some light on the state of news media. Specifically, what news media is shedding cannot be easily replaced. We're losing dedicated investigative reporters and senior writers who tackle the most complex issues, those who aren't so easily replaced by special interest citizen journalists and snack-sized entertainment features. (Investigative reporting is the most expensive proposition for any newspaper or news magazine, paying senior writers to spend weeks on one story.)

Looking at some of the reporting on the more complex issues in recent years, I'd go one step further and say we've all but lost most of them. And even the few who remain tend to do little more than report on two polarized talking heads or slant stories toward whatever politicized position their audience has embraced. The truth doesn't bubble up to the surface so much.

Even the most recent economic crisis is just now being understood. CNBC recently reported the findings of a two-year bipartisan probe that concluded conflicts of interest, excessive risk-taking, and failures of government oversight triggered the financial crisis (hat tip: Lewis Green). Both Republicans and Democrats agreed, citing problems that existed well before 2003.

The Story That The Media Largely Missed.

In fact, in 2003, the Bush administration tried to take some steps to correct such problems as they pertained to Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. But any progress being made to stop the problems was stalled then by Chris Dodd, chairman of the Senate banking committee. Dodd had allegedly been one of several dozen politicians who received special loans. He wasn't alone either. If you read Fact Check, everyone was to blame.

But this post isn't meant to explore the political wrangling that led to the financial crisis. It's an example of how times were already changing. The news media, by in large, was already out to lunch and asleep at the wheel. Instead of critical and objective reporting, the shrinking percentage of people reading newspapers were spoon-fed sensationalism — things that attract eyeballs.

In 2003, for example, the invasion of Iraq captured headlines. So did the shuttle disaster. So did the Laci Peterson story. So did SARS. So did a lot of stories with all of them important but with the emphasis on immediacy. What wasn't covered were our long-term simmering stories — the economy, housing market, or education. All of which would have required objective interests poring over research for weeks and months.

If they weren't being covered almost ten years ago, it seems highly unlikely they will be covered in the future. Or, for a more local example, Spotleson mentioned how local newspapers used to be the watchdogs over all sectors within the community like police departments and other government bodies. And when no one covers them, bad things usually happen.

Businesses Are Good At Reporting Wants; News Media At Reporting Needs.

Holtz is right that businesses can step up their own media outreach efforts and become publishers around their special interest areas, especially if they are sensitive to what consumers want and are reasonably objective in their presentation without filling the Internet with big brochures that get updated daily. Consumer-centric content is more valuable. Instead of talking about how great the company is, better content tells people how to get more greatness out of a product.

At the same time, communicators might want to remain steadfast in convincing news media outlets that there is a void that needs to be filled. Investigative information is too valuable to find behind a pay wall (because we generally don't want to hear it).

To take care of this niche, what we really need is for news media outlets to elevate their advertising rates to pay for objective reporting. And if the reporting is not objective, then at least they can ask the tough questions. All they need to do to recapture some of their old ad rates is deliver content that draws an audience because it is valuable (and not cheap entertainment). In contrast, putting up pay walls for content that doesn't measure up (The Daily doesn't measure up) only drives the audience away.

Targeting Influencers: Dear PR Pro, There Is No Spoon

One of the hardest lessons for many public relations professionals to grasp comes right out of the Matrix. There is no spoon. There is no campaign.

"It is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself." — Potential

It took reading Kary Delaria's PR’s Biggest Mistake When Working With Influencers to fully appreciate it. She rightly suggests too many public relations practitioners approach influencer outreach like media relations instead of community relations.

She's moving in the right direction. And yet, I cannot apply it to anything I've ever worked on in social media, even if they are clearly better than what most public relations professionals want to do in social media. Let's step back.

Specifically, some public relations professionals want people, especially influencers, to push their content to a mass of people who will hopefully visit the destination and perform an action — like a page, subscribe to a reader, purchase a product, or whatever. Most public relations professionals think that by reaching out to influencers, they can increase the mass.

But social media doesn't really work that way, which is the gist of what Delaria was trying to point out. However, overlaying a community relations approach might be scoffed at too, even if it is only because the public relations practitioner abuses it.

"It is not the influencer that bends, it is only yourself."

1. Define goal, content and context. Not exactly. A worthwhile social media approach does consider goals, content, and context as Delaria suggests. But the goals, content, and context should never be bent to the influencers.

It needs to stay true to the community or audience you want to reach. If you can prove yourself worthwhile to a community or attract your own, influencers will be attracted to what you are doing anyway. In fact, they are just as interested in your community as you are (if you have one) — because if they ignore things within their sphere, they won't be influencers for long.

2. Test the theory and the outcome. According to Delaria, panelist David Binkowski suggested that if you had a running influencer campaign, you might run a test on the pool of influencers and then thin the list. But I might suggest that if you are running an influencer test, you're already losing mutual leverage.

As soon as you start testing them, then you've already put yourself outside the sphere where the so-called influencers are and outside any community filled with the people you want to reach. That doesn't make sense at all. You might as well brand "agenda" on your forehead.

3. Manage the community? I'm all for online community managers managing a community from a functional perspective. Someone has to run the advertisements, remove the spam, and provide very loose guidelines for the community to follow (very loose).

But I've grown very weary of community managers who try to manage the people who visit. For very much the same reason above, anytime you take planned actions to "influence" people within a sphere, you've cast yourself as someone outside it.

"It is not people who bend, it is only yourself."

Think of it this way instead. Hopefully if you are representing a company online, you have more than a passing interest or paycheck in the balance. It's probably best for you to like, even better if you love, whatever you are representing online.

If you are passionate about the subject, you already have a common interest with the people you might connect with online, whether or not they are influencers. Thus, they are not people to "target" as much as they are people you get to know.

As for campaigns in general, don't think of them in the traditional sense. They are simply part of whatever you bring to the table. If you have the insider information, unique perspective on a topic, clever idea for entertainment, or some other worthwhile contribution, you are just as much of an influencer as anybody.

The only difference between you and them is that they've probably been at it longer, got lucky one day, or never bothered to implement tactics that position you outside the community that interests you. In other words, there is no spoon.

Rethinking Education: Immersion, Part 2 of 3

Yesterday, I received some thank you notes from students in an intermediate class, ranging from third to fifth grade. I had made a modest donation to fulfill a DonorsChoose project request for a phonics program because the students haven't mastered reading and writing.

The pictures alone tell the story. While my own daughter, age 4, is learning to spell and recognize simple words, these children are struggling to the do the same. Imagine that for a moment. They're in third grade to fifth grade.

Sure, it's very likely some of these children are new immigrants (not all of them are), placed at a grade level based on age. But sooner or later, they will be combined into standardized classrooms to either fail or command so much attention from a teacher that the entire classroom will struggle with rudimentary skills so slower classmates can catch up.

"Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." — William Butler Yeats

I've never met a kindergartener, first grader, or second grader who is disinterested in school. So when does it happen, exactly?

If you believe Waiting For Superman, it happens sometime in the fourth grade. Personally, I think it happens well before the fourth grade — the foundation is laid as early as the first grade when teachers begin to assign labels for success.

The problems with the education system merely manifest in the fourth grade, when testing begins and the children start to exhibit whatever predestined labels have been attached to them. This child is an overachiever; this child is an under performer — with most of those labels being assigned for very little reason other then their willingness to conform to an environment or their socio-economic background.

What's especially odd, however, is that students aren't as aware of their socio-economic background when they enter school as the teachers who educate them. They are also less aware of other identifiers too. Skin color makes little difference to them. Religious preference doesn't enter playtime conversations. Role modeling is mostly non-existent, at least among new peers.

For the most part, any pressures they face pale in comparison to those Ruby Bridges Hall faced as the first black American to go to an all-white school in New Orleans. She graduated and became a travel agent. Obviously, she wasn't deficient or predestined to fail despite her circumstances.

At yet, here in Nevada, we continually hear that socio-economics has driven the state to have the worst high-school dropout rate in the nation. Most studies suggest that low-income families are the primary driver. Others claim Nevada's poor performance is merely a matter of how the numbers are crunched, saying that the state's rates suffer from poorly performing students who move here. Others say it is because not enough is being invested in education.

The excuses don't seem to account for the trends tracked by America's Promise Alliance. That organization noted that the number of high schools in Nevada deemed “dropout factories” rose from eight in 2002 to 34 in 2008, with the increase representing nearly 54,000 students. During that time, the state's graduation rate fell from 72 percent to 51 percent. Population growth has also since slowed, especially during the recession.

"Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school." — Albert Einstein

The problem, here, in part has nothing much to do with anything politicians talk about. The problem is centered around one of three discussion points —  scarcity of resources, socio-economic issues, politicizing the classrooms. Simply put, the state fails because either the state or select school districts invent reasons to fail and then pass those reasons on to the students.

Or, to match the excuses with common language — it's a lack of funds, it's the parents' fault, and it's the students' fault. Seriously? Our children are being told they will fail because success isn't in the budget, their parents are poor or are single parent households, and because they or their classmates come from other disadvantaged school systems (or countries).

I don't believe it, any of it. Nevada students fail because they are given every reason to fail. Since I went to school in Nevada, there has been a dramatic shift to improve grades and educational scores by encouraging all of the children to shoot for the minimum standards.

But as any teacher ought to know, when you tell students to shoot for the base minimum, they won't all measure up to that bar. If you want them to succeed, the expectation is no less than 100 percent or more, while reinforcing than anything but doesn't constitute failure. Students shooting for higher marks, even when they falter, hit 80 percent or better regardless of funding, socio-economics, or preassigned excuses.

"If you think education is expensive, try ignorance." — Andy McIntyre

Some people tell me that my experience as a teacher is tainted because I work with students who have elected to be there. (If that were true, all college students would earn As in every subject.) I humbly disagree. The challenge is greater because the education system has already failed many of them, given their lack of mastery of the English language.

We have no privileges in this class. I don't have any special monetary funding to get them where they need to be (I lose money teaching); there was even one year that everyone had to wear coats because the heater in the room was broken. The students come from every socio-economic background (unemployed to financially successful). They are ethnically diverse, with some speaking English as a second language. They have varied education backgrounds (high school dropouts to master's degrees).

But in my class, there are also no excuses, labels, or unrealistic expectations.

And every year, it only takes one or two assignments for the students to learn that I cut no breaks. The class average on the first assignment is in the 60s (high school level writing or less); the average on the last assignment is in the 80s (better than the writing provided by an average working professional). This is done in ten weeks (about 16-18 hours, plus 16-18 hours of homework).

My expectations are simple. Regardless of where they start, they will be better writers by the time the class ends if they do every assignment (and rewrites after the assignment). At minimum, they will be able to write one standard news release without common errors by the end of the session. But they really learn more than that, more than many working professionals.

That is not to say some don't drop. I lose one for every ten. But then again, they have an entire life of baggage by the time they come here. In contrast, every kindergartener, first grader, or second grader that I've ever met wants an education.

So why I support programs and individual projects at DonorsChoose.

I supported the literacy program by the aforementioned teacher to give them another educational tool and help the kids overcome the stigma. You see, those students are in a special class, with a 50-50 shot of drawing a teacher who cares or a teacher who collects a paycheck.

Obviously, they have the former, given she is seeking outside help. So, by funding their educational needs, I would like to think that I sent a message to the students and the teacher that the ROI on learning to read is worth it. They seem to based on the thank you notes.

Other than that, I don't care where they came from because they are not disadvantaged in my eyes. They all have the potential to excel, assuming the expectations are high enough and the system allows them.

But isn't it the same with any job? Most new employees want to excel too, until their employer or supervisor proves to them otherwise. Yeats might have been talking about education, but his idea really applies to everything. At least I think so.

Catching Creativity: The Art Of Fearlessness

"There are significant moments in everyday life. That's what you ought to write about." — Raymond Carver

While most of the lessons I teach have to do with marketing, advertising, public relations, and social media, they're still akin to greater aspirations in miniaturized chunks of content, sometimes with a client or employer standing over your shoulders. In short, it's commissioned work. The kind of work that great artists like Jean-Michel Basquiat might dump a bowl of cereal on your head for even asking.

But that is the challenge for people who pursue commercial work. You have to have a head for business and the heart of an artist.

Those that don't appreciate it, never really excel in communication-based activities. Fear holds them back. Social learning theory frequently touches on it. Psychologists who subscribe to this thinking are quick to remind people that anxiety is often associated with certain situations and learning.

For example, a little girl who is punished by her parents every times she rebels will eventually associate punishment with assertive behavior. The punishment doesn't have to be physical or painful. Emotional punishment can cause the same symptoms. Or, perhaps nowadays, anxiety creeps in because most people are too busy to give their children enough praise and accolades (let alone teachers).

Either way, these early lessons taint people who want to enter the profession. Even seasoned communicators and graphic artists exhibit it going into presentations. They are either afraid their work won't measure up or they feel apprehension if they don't receive praise. Frankly, they ought not worry about either.

Shedding The Fear To Become A Better Communicator.

My daughter is only four years old and has been producing some striking artwork for the better part of a year. The work is better than some adults "think" they could ever do. I don't really believe that is the case, even if my daughter does have some natural talent. The primary difference is something else entirely. They have fear in their hearts. She does not.

If you are like most people, you probably started learning "fear" around the fourth grade. That seems to be the case today. Teachers and administrators are wound up so tightly over testing and what it means for their school that their anxiety is passed on to the kids. Although important, they place so much weight on testing that it is difficult for kids not to feel anxious.

This social learning will carry on with them for the better part of 12 or more years. And by the time a student reaches me, they become plenty anxious. And, honestly, the work suffers for it. Even some professionals I know will tell you how much they second guess putting up posts or sharing other activities because they are "afraid" how people might react.

Commercial work is a bit different in that you have to be able to include some presets — client mandatories, market research, and audience acceptance. But when in doubt, professionals can always craft two versions — the one the client wants to see and the one they see in their hearts. They might do it too, if not for the fear they carry around with them.

How does it apply to the average communication professional? Simple enough, I think. About 80 percent of the best ideas are scrubbed from advertising, marketing, and social media because they are never shown. The number is a guess, but I suspect it's not too far from the truth.

I used to try to answer the frequently asked question "how do you convince a client to do X?" with some semblance of an answer — show them the work, show them the research, pick and choose your battles, ask them to let you test it somewhere off to the side. But lately, I scrap all that advice and ask a question instead. Have you talked to them about it?

A surprisingly high percentage of professionals never share what they would like to do with an account. They are too afraid to broach the subject, too afraid they won't be listened to, and too afraid their idea will be rejected, or worse, that they'll be held accountable and fired. Seriously? If any of that were true, with the exception of one, you're probably working in the wrong shop anyway.

The exception, of course, is if you are too afraid of not receiving praise for your work. If that's true, you're probably playing in the wrong field. As soon as you start shooting for the status quo — the stuff that always generates X amount of traffic to a site — you've already lost the heart of an artist that makes even being a commercial hack somewhat redeeming.

Give it some thought over the weekend. If you could do even one thing to make whatever project you're working on — a blog, advertisement, campaign — even a little better, what would it be? Start with that, even if it's not expected. What's the worst that can happen? Someone will say no? So what? Confidence comes from within. And you knew it well enough when you were four.