For Sportspark, The Click took the two initial letters ‘SP’ as the starting point both for the client’s new logo and a range of adverts and posters using single words beginning with ‘sp’ (e.g. ‘sparkling’ for swimming, ‘spontaneous’ for ‘pay and play’ facilities and so on). You can the concepts deployed to great effect on Sportspark’s home page.

Exterior signage at Sportspark, based on branding by The Click

Although The Click weren’t engaged to consider Sportspark’s tone of voice (as far as I know), their work still projects a very distinct feel. Using the three-value framework I proposed in my post on defining a brand’s tone of voice, we might sum up Sportspark’s projected character as ‘easy’, ‘healthy’ and ‘fun’.

The new brand and tone are reinforced as you enter the building, with a shiny silver sign outside the entrance (right). Inside, promotional posters (presumably produced by The Click) use the same design style as the outdoor and press advertising. However, things change once you get nearer to the ‘business end’ of the facility.

Visual tone

Consider this noticeboard on the way into the swimming pool – a high-traffic area that has clearly been identified as the best place to communicate in writing with users of the pool.

Customer information posters inside Sportspark. (Click to view full-size)

The contrast with the corporate brand could hardly be greater. Visually, everything is different: print format, image style, typography, colour choice. The Click’s branding is still faintly present in the form of the ‘SP’ logo (highlighted with two light circles in the image), but the general impression is that of a completely different ‘character’. (I’m not saying that one is better or more effective than the other; just that they’re different.)

Verbal tone

Tonally, we’re in a very different place too. Consider this notice:

Lost Property

Due to the overwhelming volume storage and security of lost property all items will only be kept for 7 days

All enquiries are to be made in person at Reception asking for Jane or Christine
Monday – Friday between the hours of 8.30 a.m. and 5.00 p.m.

FOR HYGIENE REASONS SOME ITEMS WILL BE DISPOSED OF IMMEDIATELY

Whereas the marketing collateral is simple, elegant and breezy, the personality projected here is officious, brusque and rather peevish. Rather than aiming to help or serve customers, its main preoccupation is the problems that its authors have to deal with (‘overwhelming volume’). It also uses the passive voice (‘All enquiries are to be made…’), which puts distance between writer, reader and message.

To bring it into line with The Click’s visual style, it might be rewritten as:

Lost something?

To reclaim lost property, just ask at the front desk for Jane or Christine between 8.30am and 5pm, Monday to Friday.

Please note that we get a lot of lost property, so we can only keep things for a week. Some items have to be thrown away immediately, for hygiene reasons.

A solvable problem

In technical terms, inconsistent tone is an eminently solvable problem. Word can use any font and, within its limitations, can do a reasonable imitation of most clean and simple layouts created with QuarkXPress or InDesign. With a good template set up, it should be quicker and easier to produce a nice corporate-looking notice than create a self-designed one from scratch.

In terms of language, it shouldn’t take that much longer to think of a friendly word instead of an ‘official’ one. It’s an effort, admittedly, but one that gets easier with time and practice.

In most cases, however, inconsistent tone isn’t the result of a lack of technical know-how. The real problem is cultural. (And I should emphasise that I’m talking about organisations in general here, not Sportspark in particular, of which I have no inside knowledge.)

Why does it happen?

Inconsistent tone arises when different messages are created independently by different people within an organisation, with no shared policy on tone of voice. Usually this happens because no one is responsible for tone of voice throughout the organisation, and/or because some people don’t see it as an issue.

Two departments that are very likely to be on different pages when it comes to tone are marketing and admin. These two groups are often distant in terms of organisational hierarchy, professional worldview and working culture. Marketing are responsible for getting new customers through advertising and brand-building; admin are responsible for ‘oiling the wheels’ by creating and applying internal processes.

Under pressure, both departments are likely to  lapse into defensive bunker mentalities: a resentful mindset of ‘nobody understands us’. (In smaller organisations, marketing and admin may be handled by the same people, or even the same person, which can actually be a plus.)

Most of the time, this separation isn’t a problem. The marketers get on with winning creative awards, and the administrators make the trains run on time. But if admin people are customer-facing, then tone of voice becomes a shared issue.

Shaping customer experience

Marketing and admin both deal with customers, but at different stages in their experience. Marketing bring in new customers, encouraging them to begin the buying cycle; admin deal with ‘processing’ people who’ve already made a decision to buy.

Taking a different tone at post-purchase stages of the customer experience, albeit unintentionally or unconsciously, sends a message – and not just the message carried in the words. For example, if the tone of ‘existing customer’ communications is unwelcoming, customers may infer that the organisation only cares about them until they buy, or that the tone adopted in marketing communications is a put-on. Writing in ‘officialese’ is a defensive reflex that puts up barriers between author and reader – and readers will sense that, even if only unconsciously.

If customer experiences were isolated, linear narratives, inconsistent tone would be less of an issue. As long as people buy, who cares what they feel after the sale?

Unfortunately, many experiences end with a decision on whether or not to repurchase (should I replace this product, or renew this service?). And bought experiences aren’t isolated; they mingle with others’ via the sharing of opinions and recommendations – a process that’s now turbocharged by social media. In some sectors, the way customers feel after they buy could have far more impact than above-the-line marketing.

Ultimately, brands are what people think about them. If we’re serious about building a brand, we have to take every interaction into account – not just the ones that are easy or fun to manage.

Chalk circles

It’s a real problem, but it’s so subtle and intractable that most organisations either don’t know about it or choose to ignore it. As with other issues that affect two or more departments at once, there’s very little appetite for broaching the subject. More often than not, marketing and admin resort to drawing a chalk circle around their responsibilities, focusing on core tasks just so they can get things done.

Administrators deal with the nitty-gritty of sorting things out at the sharp end, fiercely defending their right to use the tactics that they feel are most effective – such as making notices with clipart, or creating their own email signature. And because they are so focused on short-term efficiency and local problem-solving, they tend not to look at ‘big picture’ outcomes like customer experience. (To be fair, they’re rarely invited or expected to.)

Marketers, meanwhile, collaborate with outside agencies in tightly bounded, outward-facing branding projects that don’t involve their colleagues in other departments – reducing scope to increase control. Often, their ultimate nightmare will be the obligation to gather and act on feedback on their carefully considered campaign from people in other departments who couldn’t care less about marketing (perhaps even despise it). Very rarely will they take on the Herculean task of getting their colleagues to act and speak on brand. They may talk about brand and tone, but when it comes down to it, their focus is very much on the low-hanging fruit of sexy ad campaigns rather than grasping the nettle of tone across the organisation.

Don’t go there

Could copywriters and agencies do more about this? Should we be raising these issues with our clients? We probably should, but on the whole we tend to decide that we simply won’t go there, for the sake of a quiet life. We’re just as guilty as our clients of drawing chalk circles around the tasks we’d like to do.

As copywriter Tim Rich notes in this post, those who offer ‘tone of voice’ services are rarely offering to help with the spadework of imposing a consistent tone. And who can blame them? Even the finest tone guidelines, backed up by the most incisive training, probably won’t sort out the tangle of internal politics. Why take on a problem that you won’t be allowed to solve?

We have to be realistic about costs, too. I’m not sure how many companies would pay a copywriter to write their lost-property notice, or even help its admin people learn how to write in a particular tone. (Although, as I hope I’ve shown, a case can certainly be made for it.) With limited resource, it’s only natural to focus on the communications that make the biggest splash – even if they’re not necessarily the most important ones for customers.

And that’s why tone of voice is so often the icing on the cake, rather than the words that go right through the rock.

Only here’s the kicker: none of this is perceptible unless you have some special sunglasses. Without the shades, everything looks normal. Put them on and the aliens’ disguise is stripped away, revealing them moving among us, undetected.

The sunglasses also reveal the subliminal messages hidden in advertisements and other media: ‘obey’, ‘stay asleep’, ‘no independent thought’, ‘marry and reproduce’, ‘watch TV’, ‘honor apathy’, ‘buy’, ‘consume’, ‘do not question authority’ and, on dollar bills, ‘this is your god’.

In this clip, hero Nada, played by Roddy Piper, dons the sunglasses for the first time and learns the truth about western society.

If you work in marketing, it might make for interesting or even uncomfortable viewing. Do marketers really just connect people with stuff they need, as we usually like to maintain? Or are we agents of a repressive culture, shoring up a decadent established order (and ruining the environment) with messages that encourage rampant consumption, shallow thought and sheeplike conformity?

Marketing has scientific and analytical aspects, but it also involves a huge number of subjective decisions where there is no single ‘right’ answer. That means that the way in which marketing issues are cognitively framed and considered can have a major impact on success. This post looks at some examples.

Bandwagon effect

The bandwagon effect refers to the tendency to do as others are doing. (If exploited for persuasive purposes, it’s normally termed social proof.)

We saw that Company X were using marmots in their outdoor advertising, and we thought we might try the same thing.

It’s not that every campaign or creative theme has to be utterly unique. It’s just that, in marketing, what’s good for the goose isn’t necessarily good for the gander. Each brand has (or should have) a unique personality and tone of voice, and bolting on someone else’s creative almost certainly won’t work. As in chess, you should never make a move without a reason – your reason.

Information bias

In some ways the opposite of the bandwagon effect, information bias is the over-valuing of information as a resource. When we fall prey to it, we continue to seek information to support a decision even when it’s no longer useful. The underlying belief is that more information is always better. It’s not.

Views on marketing are subjective, so you can never be sure others see things the same way

One frustrating manifestation of this phenomenon in my experience is the gathering of many different points of view about a marketing strategy or tactic. Everyone has their say and the result is a mish-mash of self-contradicting opinions that generally leads nowhere.

Managers sometimes do this when they want others to confirm their opinions, and sometimes when they are genuinely unsure how to move forward. It may be better to go with one person’s gut instinct than the ill-considered reactions of six or seven people – views that were only formed because of an expectation that they should contribute.

Sunk costs reasoning

Sunk costs reasoning is making irrational choices in order to honour or justify your past commitments or investments. Imagine you’ve bought tickets to see your favourite band. On the night of the concert, you’ve got a stinking cold. Going out will not be remotely pleasurable or beneficial, but the tickets were so expensive that you feel you have to go.

This website doesn’t really reflect the services we want to push and it’s hopeless for SEO, but we’ve spent a lot on this redesign so we’re going to stick with it for a year or two.

There really is no point honouring the sunk costs in this type of situation. By spending more, you’re not ‘throwing good money after bad’, but recouping the earlier lost investment as quickly as possible. But often the psychological barriers are just too powerful.

Choice-supportive bias

Choice-supportive bias is the tendency to retrospectively ascribe positive attributes to an option one has selected.

I’m glad we chose this logo design, aren’t you? It’s so much more suited to our brand than the other options.

The psychological payoff of choice-supportive bias is that it reduces post-decision dissonance, or the worry that a wrong choice has been made. When a high-stakes decision has to be made on a subjective basis (as with the choice of a logo), it may be very difficult to decide which way forward is the best. Choice-supportive bias helps to ‘beef up’ a choice that may originally have been impulsive or ill-considered, making it seem ‘clearly the best’ or ‘obviously the right way to go’. In fact the other options on the table may have been equally strong, or stronger, and returning to them might be very beneficial. For example, the website design you rejected last year might be just right for you next year, and it already exists, so it’s free. But once we’ve rejected something, we find it psychologically very difficult to resurrect it as an option.

Status quo bias

Status quo bias is an irrational affection for twelve-bar boogie rock of the 1970s the way things are. People tend not to change their behaviour unless the incentive to do so is compelling. In marketing terms, this leads them to cling to established approaches, channels or creative themes just because they’ve used them before.

I’m sure nearly every marketing professional will have come across a client who’s evolved a piecemeal collection of logos, product names, website sections, imagery or content. To the outsider, it seems bizarre – but to the client, it seems completely natural (partly because of choice-supportive bias).

The antidote to status quo bias is to ask, ‘if you didn’t have this branding [or logo, or website, or brochure], would you pay to recreate it exactly as it is?’ If the answer is ‘no’, you should at least acknowledge that things need to change – even if you can’t afford it right now.

Omission bias

Omission bias is the tendency to judge harmful actions as worse or less moral than equally harmful omissions (inactions). In other words, people feel it’s better to do nothing and get a bad result than take action and get a bad result.

In marketing terms, omission bias usually translates into a desire to avoid or postpone investment in marketing even when such investment is clearly required.

We’ve decided to stick with the old website until next year and see how things work out.

In an environment where costs are an issue, refraining from spending is likely to be approved of by managers – even though it may be that marketing investment will bring sorely needed revenue. No-one ever got fired for saving money, goes the reasoning.

The remedy is to define marketing not as some sort of optional luxury, but as the generation of future cash flow. That will provide the right frame of reference for investment decisions.

Anchoring

Anchoring is the tendency to rely too heavily on one piece of information when making decisions. Faced with a complex situation with many aspects or variables, we home in on one feature of it and organise our thinking around it. For example, when buying a car we might compare on grounds of price even though there are myriad other factors to take into account.

In terms of marketing, the most obvious anchor (apart from the cost of marketing activity) is sales figures, which tend to dominate discussions about the value of marketing.

We paid for you to develop this campaign last year, and sales haven’t increased at all.

There might be many reasons for this. The value proposition, or value curve, may be fundamentally flawed. The price of the product may be wrong. The sales channels may be wrong. The service around the product may be rubbish. There are many problems that marketing can’t fix, and many factors behind the simplicity of your sales figures.

Or, setting dysfunction to one side, it may simply be that customers aren’t ready to buy yet. If you’re selling something like cars, or insurance, you must wait until the time is right for consumers to buy. Your marketing may have succeeded in implanting your brand in their brain, but they simply haven’t had the time or opportunity to act on it.

That’s why marketers emphasise the value of metrics such as brand recognition and market penetration to measure the success of their efforts. Marketing can be hugely effective in terms of raising awareness and building goodwill about a brand, without sales necessarily increasing immediately.

Of course, this cuts both ways. If you want to avoid the blame when things go wrong, you can hardly take credit when they go right, and the client says something like

Sales are up 75% since you developed our campaign. We’re delighted!

That could be down to changing consumer priorities, macroeconomic changes, a new sales force or just the sheer grunt of increased media spend. But that never stops creative agencies (and even some copywriters) quoting sales increases on their websites as if they were solely responsible for them. If only!

A breath of fresh air – brought to you by Alpen…
We know you know this is just another promotion on the back of your bag of cereal, so we’re not going to pretend it’s anything else.
It’s simply a chance to win great prizes…

This is what we might call a metanarrative: a story about a story, or a text whose subject is itself. Instead of promotional text talking about the benefits of the product, or the prizes you can win, the first paragraph here talks about the promotion itself.

That metatextual Alpen bag in full

I find metatexts fascinating, partly because I enjoyed studying them as a literature undergrad many years ago. But do they really work as marketing copy? Let’s unpack the pros and cons of this particular example.

On the plus side:

• It’s unusual. Metacopy is very rare, and this in itself generates interest. Not many cereal packets are written like Borges, Beckett or Baker. And this is, as the Alpen packet observes, a breath of fresh air.
• It’s exciting. In a world where corporate- or consumer-speak stands in for real human communication, honesty has a frisson of risk. So there’s a certain excitement to seeing metanarrative actually being used. You’re thinking, ‘Did they really say that?’
• It can build rapport. In metanarrative, the authorial voice shrugs off its bonds, breaking through the boundaries of the text to address the reader directly. This can generate a sense of one-on-one interaction, of talking to a real human. In a marketing context, this could build trust and a sense of identification.

And on the downside:

• It’s thin. By which I mean that there isn’t a lot of meaning there. The two main ‘takeaways’ from the Alpen copy above are ‘You’re clever’ and ‘We’re not lying’. While that’s an unusual message, it’s arguably not a very compelling one. The reader might well respond, ‘So what?’
• It’s egotistical. There’s always benefit in flattering the reader, but in this example most of the credit is being given to the advertiser themselves, for being so honest about their promotion. And that’s a turn-off.
• It’s weak. When you get to the second paragraph in the Alpen example, you discover that behind the pretence, it really is just the same as other competition promotions – which is exactly what the first paragraph said, but it’s still disappointing somehow. All that difference ended up as just more sameness.
• It’s still marketing. Post-structuralism succeeded structuralism when it became clear that there could be no fixed point ‘outside’ the text from which to determine its ‘real’ or ultimate meaning. In other words, a book about books is still a book. A literary critic is still a writer. ‘Freedom’ from narrative, like moral certainty, is an illusion and all meaning is ultimately relative – or endlessly deferred, as Derrida postulated. In the present context, that means that ‘honest’ marketing messages are still marketing, because the medium is the message. Any text included on a cereal packet – even a Zen koan – is intrinsically commercial; this is a place where we expect (and get) material transaction, not friendship or truth.
• It’s cynical. Following on from that point, marketers should always, always remember that people aren’t stupid. They’re not going to buy into your message just because you said it in an unusual way. To expect them to is profoundly cynical and manipulative, so don’t kid yourself. (The only exception is if you manage to generate a positive emotional response, as opposed to a wry intellectual smirk.) Perhaps there’s greater honesty in selling with genre and cliché – giving the readers what they want, know or expect – than putting on a pose of originality for purely self-centred reasons.

On the whole, I think the cons outweigh the pros. And yet, I think there are circumstances when metacopywriting can work. Predictably, they’re the times when the metanarrative can allude to some benefit for the reader, or a problem of theirs that could be solved.

This example is taken from Ian Moore’s excellent book Does Your Marketing Sell? It was used to promote a new insurance product introduced by Royal & Sun Alliance to brokers, who sell insurance on its behalf. At the time it was used, insurance brokers were having to put up with fluctuating service levels from insurers, as a result of internal upheaval following big structural changes in the insurance market. Rather than gloss over that background, it made a virtue of the fact that R&SA wasn’t perfect:

Announcing the launch of yet another household product that’s not quite right for your customers (and seven reasons you should sell it)

The body text went on to appeal to brokers to help R&SA develop and improve the product.

In my opinion, this is a more successful metatext because it engages the emotions, rather than just playing games with meaning. It talks directly to a problem that the readership had. And the body made good on the promise of the headline, using it as the jumping-off point for a set of real benefits, honestly presented and maintaining the metatextual authorial voice established by the headline. Alpen, by contrast, stoked up the fire of expectation with its metanarrative, but threw cold water on it by bookending it with cliché.

So in summary, meta isn’t always better. This most radical of copywriting strategies works best when it’s allied with the two most traditional – focusing on the customer and communicating benefits.

The egotist

The egotist holds forth interminably on his favourite topic, himself. He’s oblivious to the bored sighs of those around him, failing to notice them backing away towards the vol-au-vents.

Marketing moral: focus on the customer, not yourself.

The counsellor

The counsellor is full of unwelcome ‘why don’t you’ advice for everyone she meets – she’s the answer to a question nobody asked. Sadly, her ideas aren’t always that useful.

Marketing moral: expertise is becoming devalued in some fields (notably social media). Cultivating strong personal connections may work better than positioning yourself as an expert.

The geek

It's not a party if there aren't any vol-au-vents

The geek batters you into submission with an enthusiastic but crashingly dull monologue about his phone, computer or other gadget.

Marketing moral: don’t confuse technical features with customer benefits. Unless you’re targeting early adopters or gadget fiends, new technology does not sell itself.

The wiseguy

The wiseguy keeps the jokes coming even if they’re not appreciated, appropriate or even funny.

Marketing moral: humour doesn’t travel well and should be used with great care – are you sure you’ll get the reaction you’re hoping for?

The wallflower

The wallflower stands shyly on the sidelines even though her best friend could be introducing her to plenty of guests if asked.

Marketing moral: proactively cultivate and request referrals and testimonials; join the conversation in social media and see where it takes you.

The skinflint

The skinflint brings Liebfraumilch but drinks Moët.

Marketing moral: reciprocity is everything in modern marketing, particularly social media. You have to give something (of yourself) before you receive.

The butterfly

The butterfly is always looking around the room for someone more interesting to talk to.

Marketing moral: don’t neglect here-and-now customer needs in the quest for new connections or business, however exciting it might feel. It’s far easier to get an order from an existing customer than from a ‘cold’ lead.

The nervous hostess

The nervous hostess flits between conversations, asking everyone if they’re enjoying themselves (and the vol-au-vents).

Marketing moral: don’t over-regulate the social media conversation about your brand or content. Allowing criticism shows strength and confirms authenticity. Allow time and space for others to answer on your behalf; it will be more powerful.

The gatecrasher

The gatecrasher shouldn’t even be here at all but he never misses the chance to party, even if he doesn’t know anyone.

Marketing moral: don’t waste marketing spend on making a big splash when you really need focused exposure. Only relevant attention can be converted to sales.

The chatterbox

The chatterbox just won’t shut up!

Marketing moral: We can’t talk and listen at the same time; make time for learning and sharing as well as pushing out content. No one wants to work with a consultant or service provider who can’t listen.

So much for my list. Can you suggest more?

In the aftermath of the financial crisis, largely unforeseen by economists, rational choice theory is looking a bit tattered.  The rationality of the big players in finance, as well as the supposedly corrective hand of ‘the market’, has been shown to be an utter fallacy. Investors systematically ignored huge long-term risks, with catastrophic consequences.

Maybe the economists should hang out more with their colleagues over at psychology and organisational behaviour, where researchers have been investigating and documenting flawed decision-making for decades.

For the psychologist or sociologist, a human decision-maker still acts to minimise costs and maximise benefits (or to avoid pain and seek pleasure). But their assessment of those costs and benefits is likely to be hopelessly inaccurate, biased or incomplete.

All this is good news for the copywriter, because these decision-making biases can be exploited in order to nudge a reader towards a buying decision – even though the purchase may not benefit them in any rational or quantifiable way. This post outlines a few of the most common biases that affect our decisions, and how they can be exploited.

Bigness bias

Bigness bias is the tendency to discount relatively small amounts that are measured against much larger amounts. For example, you might regard £1000 as a lot of money to pay for a suit. But to secure a house you really wanted, you wouldn’t hesitate to increase your offer by £1000 – or even £10,000. Context is everything. For example:

For just 1% of what you take home each month, you can protect every penny you earn from the threat of serious illness or redundancy.

Distinction bias

Viewing options in conjunction makes them seem more different than when they are viewed in isolation. Exploit this by juxtaposing the promoted offering with an alternative option and emphasising some distinction between them. For example:

The EconoHeat offers four different ways to programme your heating – most controllers have just three.

The money illusion

We tend to focus on the face value of money rather than its actual purchasing power. That’s why a £10 cashback offer is so appealing – it’s free money! – whereas a voucher worth £10 is less powerful, and a free saucepan worth £10 even less so (even if we need one). Exploit this bias by quoting as many cash amounts as you possibly can when savings or reductions are concerned (i.e. talk in pounds or dollars, not percentages or fractions).

Reactance

Reactance is the urge to do the opposite of what you’re told. (As the parent of a three-year-old, I can confirm this from extensive field research.)

Right-wingers in the US often harness reactance by suggesting that a ‘liberal mafia’ is destroying America; by doing so, they position voting for the profoundly conservative Republicans as some sort of rebellion.

Apple did something similar with its 1984 and Think Different campaigns, encouraging computer buyers to resist the domination of IBM. Reactance favours new market entrants, minority choices and fringe players, who can turn their underdog status into a virtue in their marketing by inciting customers to rebel against the established order.

Neglect of probability

Human beings are awful at estimating and comparing probabilities. That’s why millions play the Lottery, even though the chance of winning (the ‘positive expected value’, in risk terminology) is infinitesimal. (Premium Bonds are a much better bet.)

This is great news if you’re selling the chance to be, do or acquire something – simply emphasise a desirable upside and people will wildly overestimate their chances of success.

Apply for our copywriting course today and you could be earning big money from home in under two months.

Every new applicant gets the chance to win a fabulous city break for two in Prague.

Déformation professionnelle

Déformation professionnelle is the tendency to view things through the lens of one’s own professional skills or culture. You can exploit it when writing for trade magazines or niche websites – since no-one else is reading, go ahead and trot out the jargon, prejudices and petty concerns that your audience love, and generate instant rapport. (Obviously, you need to be able to do this convincingly, and sound like an ‘insider’, or it will backfire badly.)

Bandwagon theory

This is the tendency to jump on the bandwagon and do what others are doing. I’ve already covered it in my piece on social proof.

Illusion of control

We believe that we can control, or at least influence, outcomes that we clearly cannot. Most superstitions are rooted in this belief, but more ‘sophisticated’ systems of thought such as technical analysis (using charts to predict share price movements) are arguably manifestations of the same thing.

Many distress purchases appeal to the illusion of control. Insurance, for example, is often predicated on the idea that the dark, chaotic world out there can be kept at bay for an affordable monthly payment. Some cosmetic treatments also encourage us to change things that, deep down, we know we can’t.

Life’s but a shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.

Here, the core of the metaphor is the equation ‘life=theatre’, with the secondary meaning ‘people=actors’. In these lines, Shakespeare is explicitly saying that our lives are as brief and futile as a play – a meaningless shadow rather than anything real. Implicitly, he’s also saying that we have little control over our destinies, like actors whose lines are written down for them. Once the parallel is drawn, a metaphor opens up a range of ways to think about something in a new way.

Metaphors in NLP

Neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) takes language seriously, acknowledging that it shapes the way we think. NLP practitioners pay close attention to the words people choose. By really listening to what people say, we can learn about the way they see themselves or the world.

To an NLP practitioner, metaphors are interesting because of their limits. They illuminate some truths while obscuring others; in NLP terminology, there are things they ‘allow’ and things they ‘disallow’.

For example, we might say that a trusted friend is ‘a rock’. Obviously, there are lots of unintended literal meanings: our friend probably isn’t thousands of years old, rough to the touch or permanently rooted to the spot. When we liken them to a rock, we’re saying that they’re solid and reliable.

However, they are human, so their moods and opinions change. Since rocks don’t change, our metaphor obscures this aspect of their personality, locking them into an idea of stolidity that may be limiting (for us, or for them). This highlights the importance of ‘stepping out’ of metaphors when they are no longer useful.

Liquid engineering

Over 35? This might take you back a bit (click to watch the advert)

A good example of a strong metaphor in copywriting is the slogan used for Castrol GTX in the 1980s: ‘liquid engineering’. In just two words, it transformed an everyday, almost commodity product into something essential and sophisticated.

Copywriting metaphors like this derive their power from two sources: imagery and emotion. In general, people find it easy to grasp concrete images, and harder to understand abstract concepts. Moreover, they respond more strongly when their hearts are appealed to, rather than just their minds. ‘Liquid engineering’ equates Castrol’s oil (an inanimate object) with attentive, skilful human engineers, suggesting that it provides a similar level of care, while appealing to the customer’s desire to care for their engine and safeguard their investment.

Leaky umbrella

Castrol’s metaphor was apposite, elegant and memorable – a brilliant piece of copywriting. But it’s very easy to get drawn into using a metaphor for its own sake, or pressing one into service that isn’t quite suited to the job at hand. The following is the text of a magazine advert currently being used by a leading UK insurer:

Would you buy an umbrella, if it didn’t keep you dry?
Neither would we. So why should you pay for an insurance policy that won’t keep you properly covered? Unlike 8 out of 10 standard home insurance policies we include cover for your belongings if they are accidentally damaged or lost – as standard.

The text is accompanied by a picture of an umbrella, highlighting one of the key benefits of metaphors in marketing – they give you a handy hook to hang your imagery on when none is otherwise available. (Services are often hard to depict – it’s even worse in B2B marketing.)

Although ‘insurance=umbrella’ seems promising as a metaphor (if unoriginal), here it actually muddies the meaning rather than clarifying it. Have you ever had, or bought, an umbrella that didn’t keep you dry? How would you know that an umbrella wouldn’t keep you dry, before you bought it?

The umbrella is an everyday item, but the situation described is artificial and not one that readers will immediately recognise from their lives. As a result, the metaphor won’t have the sensual, concrete force that drives emotional impact.

Stop clevering off

Instead of providing a useful stepping-stone between something familiar and a new concept, the headline metaphor in this example is adding a cognitive barrier between reader and benefit – and therefore putting obstacles in the way of a sale. The headline is literally a riddle, and if you ask your reader to solve riddles you run the risk of them simply walking away.

Since the core benefit is easy enough to understand for anyone who’s ever bought home insurance (which is almost everybody), a better headline might be:

With [Insurer], cover for damage and loss come as standard.

Or, for a bit more spice:

What’s extra for others is standard for us: damage and loss cover included with every home insurance policy.

Of course, you wouldn’t be able to include a nice picture of an umbrella, but you would have a headline that would actually generate interest.

It’s well known that headlines with benefits outpull those without. So if you’ve got a benefit that’s easy to communicate, it should always lead your copy. If you want to connect with readers, resist the tendency for what my granny used to call ‘clevering off’.

Making metaphors work

Here are a few pointers for making metaphors work in copywriting.

• Use sparingly. Only use metaphors when they’re needed: to clarify points that would otherwise be difficult to explain or understand, to communicate a benefit or to add emotional or persuasive impact. Don’t use them for their own sake. 
• Choose carefully. The right comparison can illuminate a key point like a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds. But the wrong one can quickly lead you into deep water. Be sure your metaphor is appropriate.
• Dig deeper. Sometimes, metaphors have layers of meaning that you might not want. Consider what your metaphor really says about the product, service or company you’re promoting.
• Less is more. Metaphors are like tissues. At the moment you need them, they’re indispensable. But if you try to get too much use out of them, as I’m doing here, you’ll end up in a mess. In other words, most metaphors support just one or two strong points; after that, they should be dropped.
• Don’t mix it up. ‘Let’s run that idea up the flagpole and see if it holds water.’ ‘We weren’t on the same page because they were dancing to a different beat.’ Adding metaphors together doesn’t concentrate meaning; it dilutes it. Give your metaphors room to breathe, so your reader can absorb each one fully before you hit them with the next. If they’re too close, or if they overlap, the result is ludicrous. 

But having thought about it a little more deeply, I’m beginning to see what all the fuss is about. And I think it’s crucial to look past physical features and understand the experience offered by the iPad – and how important it could be for the digital marketing of the future.

Experience is everything

Because the internet is dominated by technically literate (and highly prolific) bloggers and commenters, much early online reaction to the iPad focused on its technical features (or lack thereof). Stephen Fry (in this post) was one of the earliest technophiles to guide doubters towards the actual experience of using the iPad, rather than an actuarial dissection of its spec-sheet. ‘The moment you experience it in your hands you know this is class,’ he wrote. ‘This is a different order of experience.’

He was absolutely right. Laundry lists of features or functionality are not the point. I don’t buy an electronic product because it’s achieved a particular technical benchmark or offers tons of features relative to competitors. I buy it because it’s going to change my life for the better by offering new, fun or cool experiences. Not just in terms of using the product itself, but also in terms of the real-world context of my experience.

Apple and the digital life

History teaches us not to bet against Apple

Apple has always understood that people buy experiences, not features. Its products are brilliantly designed and ergonomically peerless, but they are much more than mere museum pieces or geekboy fodder. They are ‘insanely great’ because they offer new, compelling digital experiences that normal people want in their lives. Often, they do so without being particularly innovative in technical terms.

Consider the iMac. It delivered functionality that people could easily get elsewhere. It wasn’t innovative. It wasn’t even particularly cheap. But it presented personal computing in a brilliant, compact design and made it utterly fun and accessible. It was a runaway success because it repositioned computing as a cool leisure activity ‘for the rest of us’. The iMac experience laid the groundwork for Apple’s majestic and still-unfolding umbrella marketing concept: the ‘digital life’.

So, what experience will iPad users be buying into?

Focus

At the core of the iPad experience is what we might call ‘focused digital browsing’. The iPad puts content at the centre of your experience in a way that a computer or phone doesn’t.

Phones are about mobile communication first and foremost, and clearly not ideal for reading. Computers, because of their functional design (and ubiquity in the workplace), orient us towards accomplishing tasks whenever we use them. Their versatility also provides myriad distractions from reading.

Contrast that with the iPad, which can only run one app at a time, and isn’t a computer by any stretch of the imagination. Its mono-functionality deals a decisive blow to the fragmented, bitty concentration of today’s web user. No email or instant messages will intrude while users encounter content; the chances of having it read and understood properly just got a whole lot better.

For websites, copywriters might feel that longer, more involved text is appropriate, just as it is when writing advertisements for similarly ‘captive’ audiences in venues such as the Underground (US: subway). There might also be less emphasis on ‘interruptive’ marketing, or on trying to get users’ attention on a more general level. With an iPad, we can be much more confident that the audience is already attentive.

By the same token, PDFs and e-books will surely become much more important as marketing tools. Although they’ve always been important and viable, I don’t know anyone who reads them for pleasure. Scanning a product manual to find a key fact, yes. Working through a marketing guide page by page on screen, no. Not for me, anyway. But if the iPad takes off, I could well be recommending PDF brochures and e-books to my clients as important ways to build links with iPad-using customers.

Touch

The physical aspects of the iPad experience are fascinating. The user will probably be holding the tablet in their hands, like a book. Instead of clicking and scrolling with a spiky little black arrow or a tiny white hand, they’ll be caressing the screen with their very own fingers – literally touching the content. Ergonomically, the experience emphasises involvement, intimacy and closeness – as distinct from the remote, measured stance of the computer user sitting upright and using a mouse.

This might lead to more sensual, involving marketing content, aiming to capitalise on this ready-made intimacy between reader and medium. Perhaps we’ll also be trying to make on-screen shapes, colours, textures and words physically appealing – using images of objects that people like to touch (shiny levers, velvet curtains, polished wood). Over time, more sophisticated interaction through touch is sure to emerge (certainly through apps), but it will need to complement content if it’s going to work on a marketing level and not seem gimmicky.

Comfort

The iPad user seems very likely to be comfortable: probably at home, at leisure, in a comfortable location of their choice such as an armchair or sofa. Unlike readers at office desks, they’re not wishing they’re somewhere else. In fact, the urge to prolong pleasure is likely to keep them exactly where they are. They are ‘voluntarily captive’, and once again this might mean we can target them with longer, more involved marketing messages.

With the iPad, content really will be ‘beamed in’ to the leisure heart of the home. There may be the potential to allude much more directly to the user’s environment when selling particular products – sofas, for example – or, more generally, to capitalise on an existing mindset of leisure and reflection. For many products, the iPad is likely to put the user in a much better ‘buying place’ than a work laptop or even a machine set up at a home workstation.

Embeddedness

Some people feel the iPad threatens the paper book, but I don’t. Again, we must remember that people choose experiences, not products. An example: I might well buy vintage sci-fi in paper form, so I can read it in one of the four classic non-digital reading venues: beach, bed, bath and bog. However, I’m much more likely to get a business title in e-book form, so I can scan, search or quote from it more easily.

Instead of making a one-time, binary decision about which medium or device I’ll use to view ‘my content’, I’m selecting content and medium together to create my reading experience in a much more sophisticated, plural way. And this is how things always pan out. Just as only the most cutting-edge digital evangelist has ditched all their CDs and MP3s for Spotify, so only a handful of readers will switch to e-books exclusively. If old ways still appeal, users preserve their choice.

So even if the iPad takes off big time, we won’t know whether or when our audience are using an iPad to view our digital content. They’ll choose the channel that suits them at the time. But just as podcasts came to be strongly associated with iPods (even taking their name from them), I believe that some occasions, tasks, product types and market segments will come to be very strongly associated with tablet use.

For example, if you owned an iPad and did your weekly shop online, it seems very likely that you’d want to walk round the house with the iPad, checking what you needed and adding items to your basket as you went. It’s easy to imagine how other online selections or purchases could be supported by this kind of ‘around the home’ iPad use: contents insurance, home improvements and so on.

In the early days, we’ll probably just want to test on an iPad, and perhaps provide some content that’s flagged as being ‘especially for iPad users’. Later, we’ll probably plan, write and design digital marketing content in an iPad version – or even design exclusively for iPad. And at that point, I might have to consider buying one myself…

• This post is listed at ListsWeb

But should you do it? I’ve already made clear my own views on honesty in marketing. But needs must when the devil dances. Whether you use these techniques is up to you!

‘Help to’

In conjunction with ‘can’ (see below), ‘help to’ positions your product or service as part of the solution to a problem without taking sole credit. For example:

Crunchaflakes can help to reduce weight as part of a calorie-controlled diet

Of course they can. Any food can. With the calorie-controlled approach, it’s simply a question of adding up the calories and keeping below a set target. The claim is very carefully delineated and hedged about, and is neither distinctive nor remarkable. But it lodges the idea of weight loss in the reader’s mind.

‘Can’ and ‘could’

Use ‘can’ and ‘could’ for indefinite claims that you want to sound definite. For example:

While traditional fan heaters have an average lifetime of 10–15 years, the RoomHeater 32 can keep on pumping out heat for decades.

Indeed it can, if used relatively sparingly. If used incessantly, its lifetime would be much shorter. Caveat emptor!

Hundreds and thousands

Look again at the example above. What period does ‘decades’ actually denote? Dunno, but it sounds like ages – just as words like ‘dozens’, ‘hundreds’ and ‘thousands’ sound like big quantities.

Strictly speaking, 101 is ‘hundreds’ – it’s 1.01 hundreds, which is more than one and therefore plural. If you’re uncomfortable with that, stick to 200 and above, which is definitely more than one hundred. ‘Hundreds’ sounds bigger than ‘217’.

Willy was weary of being regarded as devious, purely on the basis of his species

Fractions

Closely related is the word ‘fraction’, as in ‘now available at a fraction of the original price’. 99/100ths is a fraction, but your audience will think of the ones they learned at school, like 1/2, 1/3 and 1/4, which will make them think you’re offering a huge discount.

Relative improvement

Whiter teeth. Improved search engine rankings. Increased sales. Shinier hair. Whatever it is you’re offering to do, make it relative and unquantified, not absolute and specific. That way, even the tiniest improvement fulfils the promise.

Yes, of course my copywriting will increase your sales. I guarantee it. By up to 50%.

‘Up to’

‘Up to’ or ‘as much as’ are used when you want to quote a numerical or statistical claim, but can only substantiate it within a certain range.

For example, you might be marketing a service that gets people tax rebates. Let’s say that on average, people get rebates of around 10% of their bills, but some have received 50%. Instead of quoting the average, or the range, you can say ‘customers have received rebates of up to 50%’.

All you’re really saying is that the rebate is in the range 0%–50%, but it’s the upper number that will stick in people’s minds. Very few will infer the corollary, which is ‘some customers got nothing’.

Note that the ‘up to’ number must be honest: it may be unusual or exceptional, but it must be achievable.

‘Over’ and ‘more than’

Closely related to ‘up to’, ‘over’ and ‘more than’ make numbers sound larger than they are. For example, ‘over 50%’ sounds bigger than ‘51%’. When given a vague numerical range, people tend to overestimate. (If you want them to underestimate, use ‘under’ or ‘less than’.)

Watch out for using both ‘up to’ and ‘more’ together, which results in nonsense:

Save up to £50 or more!

Here, the £50 is neither a minimum or a maximum, just an arbitrary point in a completely undefined range. Although the audience may latch on to the £50, blurring the meaning twice means more confusion rather than more impact.

‘As much as’ and ‘as little as’

For a rhetorical twist, use ‘as much as’ or ‘as little as’ to imply that the figure you’re quoting is particularly high or low. For example:

The iPhone is now available for as little as £35 per month.

This suggests that £35 is low, but with no frame of reference to substantiate the claim.

Reported beliefs

Tom Albrighton is now regarded as the best copywriter in the UK.

Sounds fantastic, doesn’t it? But who’s doing the regarding? Charles Saatchi, or my mum?

The use of the passive case, which omits the subject of the verb, allows you to say something is being done without specifying who’s doing it. With verbs such as ‘thought’ or ‘believed’, you can put out a claim that may be completely unsubstantiated, simply by saying that someone thinks it’s true.

You can also use abstract nouns such as ‘concerns’ (usually ‘growing’), ‘speculation’ (often ‘intense’ due to being ‘fuelled’) or ‘allegation’ (probably ‘fresh’) to generate a sense that something’s cooking without naming the chef.

This ploy is very commonly used in political journalism, often to report an ‘off the record’ sentiment from a genuine source. A typical sentence might begin ‘Critics of the Prime Minister now believe…’.

Consider the following quote from this Guardian story, which brings all the techniques together in one sentence:

The disclosures will fuel growing concern that the prince is continuing to interfere in political matters when many believe he should remain neutral if he wishes to become king.

Who is concerned, and why will the disclosures fuel their concerns? Who are the ‘many’ who believe Charles should remain neutral? What is the factual basis for saying that he might not succeed to the throne, or that his succession is conditional on his behaviour? What, actually, is being said here?

Nothing. But it sounds good. 

Rhetorical reinforcement

Use words such as ‘clearly’, ‘surely’, ‘self-evidently’ to make a premise sound like a conclusion. These rhetorical words add weight to a statement that may have no basis in fact.

Surely the recession is now drawing to a close?

It may be, or it may not – you haven’t actually said either way, but readers will think you have.

Unprovable superlatives

The CDs entitled ‘The best rock album in the world… ever!’ and similar highlighted the useful fact that superlatives are unprovable.

Suppose you start describing your firm as a ‘leading local widget maker’. Are you including firms who make other things as well as widgets? Or just widget specialists? Or just local widget specialists?

What’s more, how do you define ‘leading’? Do you sell most widgets? Make most money from widgets? Or just make the best widgets? Or are you just one of the best at making widgets? It really doesn’t matter, because the only thing readers will remember is ‘leading’. They won’t be querying your definition.

If you’re still unsure about your claim, dilute it with ‘regarded as’ or something similar, or position yourself as ‘one of the leading…’. Does that mean one of the top 10? The top 100? The top 1000?

Or you could copy Carlsberg, whose addition of ‘probably’ to ‘the best lager in the world’ allowed them to float the most outrageous marketing claim of all (‘best in world’) without actually making it.

Let me qualify that. I’m not talking about quotes or ratings presented in a manner of your own choosing. Quotes included on your website or in your brochure are clearly open to editing, manipulation or even fabrication. And obviously, they’re selected too – you don’t seek or publish quotes from clients who weren’t 100% happy.

However, reviews submitted at third-party sites can be completely beyond your control. Every time I invite a client to review me at FreeIndex, I’m making myself a hostage to fortune. Of course, I choose the ones I think are happy, but for all I know they’ve been holding back on a reservation about the timescale or the price. In fact, anyone can review me at FreeIndex, whether I invite them or not. And the pages rank highly.

In fact, it’s arguably far too easy to post negative reviews. Have a look at this profile for a copywriter on Touch Local. She’s rated one star on the strength of one anonymous, invisible review, submitted via a one-page form (you can see it further down the page). Who did that? A customer? A competitor? A drunk teenager?

Assuming it’s not genuine, presumably, the onus is on her to notice the rating, approach the site and attempt to have it rescinded – or, failing that, gather enough positive reviews to bring her average up.

Even if it is a genuine rating, it seems like a raw deal – particularly since she’s contributed to the viability of the directory by submitting her details and may even be paying for priority listing. All that marketing effort and/or outlay has ended up harming her prospects instead of enhancing them.

What do you think? Has democracy gone too far?