The Greater Voice

The Corporate Snitch Takes on Walmart (I know, Join the Crowd!)

Confused about Walmart?  Disapprove of the mega-marketer yet find yourself sneaking past the underpaid greeters searching for a bargain? Hear yourself saying: “Let’s go to Walmart. I bet they have (fill in the blank).” Has the confusion grown to the point of combustibility as Walmart grows its Hunger Relief Foundation, a billion dollar campaign to end hunger in the US. Hate Walmart? Don’t hate Walmart? Don’t worry. You’re not alone.

Here’s why: Walmart’s hunger relief program positions the company so you almost feel guilty condemning it for...well...anything. Among others, they promise to donate “more than 1.1 billion pounds of food from Walmart stores, distribution centers and Sam’s Club locations, valued at $1.75 billion” and provide “Grants totaling $250 million to support hunger relief organizations….” in a nation where the USDA estimates 50 million people aren’t sure what (or how) they’ll eat every day. What’s there not to love, right?

But here’s the reality: Walmart’s campaign is a marketing strategy known as “cause marketing.” Their mission is to position themselves as the good guy…by, yes, doing good. Dove has its self-esteem cause. Avon, the “company for women” has its Breast Cancer Campaign. Dollar for dollar, what with the non-profit nature of these efforts, the positive press that slathers the media, and the grassroots value in communities where they partner with local groups, it’s the best marketing value around.

Then there’s Walmart’s tagline: “Let’s End Hunger Together,” a marketing marvel geared to knock the disdain out of any consumer by forging a relationship with them. Help Walmart fight hunger (and who wouldn’t?) and you become, officially or not, one of the Walmart family. And where better to buy than from family? Besides, just knowing about the hunger relief campaign, you feel better about going to the mega-mart. It almost makes you forget that Walmart itself is not a non-profit like, say, The Children’s Defense Fund or a for-benefit company like Newman’s Own.

But can you blame Walmart for feeding the hungry under the umbrella of…ummm…flagrant opportunism?  Besides, WalMart isn’t the only one. Cisco boasts a Global Hunger Relief Campaign. Yum, the parent of such dubious food servers as KFC, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, and Long John Silver has dished up its own World Hunger Relief campaign. Kraft foods launched the Huddle to Fight Hunger, a somewhat less altruistic campaign where customers use coupons that give them a discount to Kraft foods and channel funds to the truly not-for-profit Feeding America.

Like these companies, Walmart’s “donation” isn’t coming out of corporate pockets. President and CEO Michael T. Duke doesn’t feel the pinch, raking in about $19.2 million in FY 2010.  And Alice Walton, daughter of Wal-Mart founder Sam Walton, is the wealthiest woman in the world, weighing in at $20.6 billion. As for the employees? Walmart employs 2.1 million people with the average worker making $11.75 an hour or $20,744 per year. That would put a one parent household (think: single mother) below the $22,000 poverty line.

Just enough to hate them, except that Walmart saves shoppers thousands of dollars a year. Plus they are doubling the amount of locally grown products on their shelves and lowering the costs of fruits and veggies so more people can afford them. And…they’re helping food banks save money by lowering their energy costs. But what about all those small businesses Walmart pushes out? And the junk food that still crowd their shelves? And the space the store takes up eating away at the neighboring community.

See – it’s complex. But I DO have a solution that will make all of us truly appreciate Walmart’s Hunger Relief campaign. You ready? Walmart should take those profits that they use to feed the hungry and up their employees’ pay. They work hard. They deserve it. As for the hungry? Here’s the plan: Michael Duke can pitch in, let’s say, $18 million a year. Trust me, Mike, you can live on an annual salary of $1.2 million a year. If not, you surely have savings. Then, Alice Walton can pitch in, let’s say, $10 billion to give the campaign some ummph (and make Michael Duke feel better about the whole thing). I mean, really, how much does a girl need to live? This will make the employees feel better, the hungry feel full, and folks like you and me able to walk through the Walmart doors with just a little less confusion.

 

What's Ahead for Marketing...

Welcome to 2011 – All of us here at the Just Eats Network are happy to be back and busy making our predictions for the new year. So…what will those wild guys in marketing be up to this year? Some outrageous stuff. Just look:

Experience-based marketing. You know that fragrant shampoo you picked up at the market? Could be you’re smelling the plastic bottle and not the real thing. It turns out 75 percent of our everyday emotions are influenced by smell. So marketers, in a rush to compete in the tight 2011 market, will be engaging with products such as Auracell: a plastic material that can hold one of 33,000 fragrances for up to three months. More sense-based techniques likely to come plus new experiential sales strategies in retail shops to get people out and spending.

Cause marketing. No one likes a marketer; in fact, marketers’ reps. are about as positive as Bernie Madoff’s. So this year, marketers will be striving more than ever to be the good-deed doers, most likely with cause marketing campaigns. That’s where they grab a halo and invent causes that do good in the world, sure, and are immense PR boasters for them. (If I were cynical I’d say they were marketing campaigns masquerading as non-profits.) One example is Dove’s self-esteem project. The company, owned by mega-giant Unilever, won enormous PR as a company who cares about women and girls.

Studies. True, no one likes marketers but no one trusts them, either. So, you’ll be seeing a steady flow of credibility-building studies this year. But remember…those studies are conducted to prove the correctness of those who fund them. Example: The International Food Information Council, a food education association. On the Web, this powerhouse claims:  “Our mission is to effectively communicate science-based information about food safety and nutrition to health professionals, government officials, educators, journalists, and consumers.” Scary stuff seeing that their funding comes from food and beverage industry big wigs such as the Sugar Association and National Soft Drink Association.

Partnerships and endorsements. Corporations will shell out big bucks so doctors, scientists, and associations will give the thumbs up for their brands. So, yes, venerable associations, including the American Cancer Society do get paid millions for their seal of approval. Others, are partnering with corporations, like the American Diabetes Association who recently teamed up with Hershey in the Moderation Nation campaign. Their moto: “Moderation not deprivation…as the key to a balanced lifestyle.”  Balanced as a diabetic coma, perhaps? 

Playing with MRIs. You may have heard of neuroscience, a technique that scientists use to study the brain. Enter neuromarketing where marketers use MRI scans to figure out what part of the brain gets activated when you see an ad.  Frito Lay, for example, used the technique to determine how their packaging could alleviate guilt feelings in females consumers about choosing their brand.  This year, as the technology continues to develop and the methodology gets refined, more marketers are likely to use it.

Stay Tuned!!

 

On a Diet this Holiday Season? Guess What!

‘Tis the season is almost upon us and marketers are getting weird. Sure, they’re bubbling over with ads for the ultimate honey-baked ham and Christmas sweets. But they’re also promoting a hefty dose of dieting. In other words, enjoy those holiday treats, but feel bad about eating them. So, before you fall victim to the pleasure/guilt syndrome (and sample yet another diet plan), check out these pointers from the Just Eats Network:

• Get real. You know the shtick. Lose weight in weeks. Drop inches off your _____(fill in the blank). Yet 95 percent of dieters regain their weight within three years. For marketers this is the gift that keeps on giving: they can endlessly sell their special foods, memberships, and dieters’ paraphernalia, on a false promise. JEN’s advice: Don’t believe their claims. Instead, get real. Need to lose weight? Forget the diet and focus on getting healthy, happy, and strong (read on).
  
  
• The right diet? Wrong. Look at his n’ her magazines and here’s what you find: diet and fitness ads promising men they will build up, gain muscle... True, this promise can put undue pressure on men, especially the beefy mid-life crew. But relax fellas: you get to be more of yourself. As for women? They will drop pounds, slim down…essentially become less. And why? To look better for others. As for themselves? Huh? JEN’s advice: Opt for a: “My diet, my gain” philosophy and remember, muscle weighs more than fat.
  
  
• What’s good for the gander… Flip through women’s magazines and you find “mouthwatering” recipes like Keebler’s “Minty Grasshopper Pie”, full of such tummy tumblers as cream cheese, sweetened condensed milk, and fudge cookies. (They taste great and what better way to simultaneously induce a heart attack and diabetes?) They also have shots of happy men and kids digging in. As for the women: no eating. No sampling. Nothing. Cook, yes. Enjoy? Never. No fear – instead, they were treated to page after page of self-depriving diet tips! JEN’s advice: go for healthier options …and join in.

Have food-holiday tales to tell? Send them our way and we’ll pass them around!

 

 

 

 

Pop-Quiz Time...Wild, Wild Wine

So, here's the quiz question: Why does an expensive glass of wine taste better than a less expensive glass of wine? Especially when the wine inside is from the same bottle. Sure, you might be thinking that we value items based on price. Expensive restaurants are better than cheap-eats diners, right?

Actually, researchers have found that price actually influences how the product tastes. Antonio Rangel, an associate professor at the California Institute of Technology, wanted to test this idea. According to a Caltech release, Rangel and his team found “…changes in the stated price of a sampled wine influenced not only how good volunteers thought it tasted, but the activity of a brain region that is involved in our experience of pleasure." In other words, "Prices, by themselves, affect activity in an area of the brain that is thought to encode the pleasantness of an experience."

Also involved in the study was Baba Shiv, an Associate Professor of Marketing at Stanford Graduate School of Business. According to University reports, “…studies have shown that marketing can influence how people value goods. For example, Shiv has shown that people who paid a higher price for an energy drink, such as Red Bull, were able to solve more brain teasers than those who paid a discounted price for the same product.”

 

Marketing Warning: Hey, Michelle Obama!

No question: Michelle Obama's initiative to end childhood obesity is timely. Today, about 17% of children 2-19 years old are obese and roughly 36% of adolescents and teens are overweight. Around 30% don't have family mealtime and many substitute stable dinners with fast food "meals" such as Chick-fill-a’s chicken fillet with a “side dish” of, say, waffle fries.

 

No doubt, pairing two dishes of questionable nutritional value as a "meal" was the brainchild of some marketer. And, doubtless, they intended to alleviate parents of guilt about feeding their kids a fast-food fix and not the real thing. This gets to the heart of Michelle Obama’s biggest nightmare: marketers have hijacked the food and fitness universe, derailing the attempts of policy-makers, nutritionists, and folks-who-truly-care to make real and permanent change.

 

It's important to remember that marketing is probably the single strongest influence in our culture. People encounter thousands of marketing messages a day: they’re displayed at doctors’ offices, embedded in movies, stuck on Web pages, slipped into bank statements, and reflected in blogs. Their influence has infiltrated our schools, clinics, kitchens, and stomachs.

 

In the food universe, the avalanche of marketing messages is chillingly one-sided: according to author and expert Michael Pollan, 95%  promote processed foods.  And, like all marketing messages, their power lies at a subliminal level. For example, marketers know that people respond to messaging pre-consciously, in less time than it takes to blink an eye. At the moment of impact, whether through a color, scent, sound or combination of all the above, the message triggers an emotional and visceral response in the audience: they feel happy, secure, trusting, aroused, or relaxed.

 

General Mills, for instance, is now placing green check marks on their cereal boxes, part of a “Smart Choices” program sponsored by 10 major food producers. According to a company press release, “Reflecting its support of a national initiative designed to promote public health, General Mills soon will feature a new nutrition labeling system on its packaging.” And who merits the green check? They tell us, “…virtually all Big G cereals, including all kid cereals.” Namely Lucky Charms, Trix, and Cocoa Puffs.

Lest you doubt their intentions, they say: “Kids love the taste and it's the only leading line of kids cereals to have at least eight grams of whole grain and a good source of calcium in every serving.” Who knew marshmallows, sugar, corn syrup, and, oh, did I forget, chocolate, could be so good?

But the check hardly needs an explanation.  The unsuspecting consumer sees the green, representing all that is good and pure (think Al Gore, the Green Movement, fresh vegetables), and the check, a universal symbol for passing muster, and the trigger gets tripped. The good feeling is enduring, creating a "halo" effect that shapes the next step in the consumers’ decision-making process: thought. While reason may tell them any food with colors and textures unknown in the natural world can’t be good, the pre-set feeling indicates otherwise.

 

Other triggers include a highlighted "0" on the labels such as Dunkin’ Donuts who promises "O trans-fats” and Coca-Cola whose “0” calories is so pronounced, they’ve even named one of their diet drinks after it. Family physician and fitness advocate Mark Cucazzella calls this phenomenon "reductionism." If a product doesn’t have something bad, then it must be good. Follow that logic and a snack of diet soda and sugar glazed doughnuts is a healthy option.

 

We shouldn’t be overly simplistic in terms of how marketers operate, of course. They work on numerous levels simultaneously. General Mills cereals, for example, have a “Box Tops for Education” where they tell parents, “You can earn cash for your kid’s school.” This taps feelings of belonging (to the school community); reciprocity (giving back to the school); and social acceptance (if the school’s involved, it must be good).

Perhaps the greatest challenge for health advocates is marketers’ ability to repurpose products as consumer demand – and First Lady initiatives - requires. Marion Nestle, Paulette Goddard Professor of Nutrition, Food Studies, and Public Health at New York University, points out that problem foods are adept at reinventing themselves as solutions. General Mills isn’t alone on the cereal front: Kellogg’s bills Froot Loops as a fiber-rich food thanks to the recent addition of oat fibers - although the cereal doesn’t contain actual fruit pieces. I guess Froot Loops’ mascot Toucan Sam was only kidding when he said, "Follow my nose! It always knows! The flavor of fruit! Wherever it grows!"

Other foods posture as healthy eats. See “granola bar” and you think nutritious, right? Yet, best selling brands, such Quaker Oats granola bars, contain such ingredients as partially hydrogenated soybean and cottonseed oils with TBHQ to preserve freshness, sugar, corn syrup, artificial flavor, and BHT. If the bar contains chocolate, add in chocolate liquor and cocoa butter.  Just because a food has oats, doesn’t mean it's healthy. But then, just because a food has “Quaker” in its name (triggering associations with quality and stability) doesn’t mean it’s affiliated with true Quakers (as in The Society of Friends), including PepsiCo owned Quaker Oats.

 

Another example is yogurt. Take Yoplait Light Yogurt. Not only is it yogurt, but it’s French yogurt, and you know what they say about French women and fat. It’s good for digestion, high in live cultures…and high fructose corn syrup, modified corn starch, kosher gelatin, citric acid, tricalcium phosphate, aspartame, and potassium sorbate. Might as well crack open a candy bar, (or a granola bar), instead.

 

So, how can the folks participating in the Obama initiative compete with this avalanche of unscrupulous marketing? Most efforts advocate that kids eat more fruits and vegetables, moderate amounts of red meat, and lots of grains. Which might well leave them chowing on Cocoa Puffs for breakfast and a chicken fillet sandwich (on white bread) with fries for lunch.

 

So, it’s imperative that healthy eating advocates complement their efforts with heavy doses of education about the language and strategies of marketers. Let the kids, and their parents, know that labels can’t be trusted. That claims are just that – claims. That they should read ingredients lists before making any purchase.  And, that knowledge brings power and the power is theirs! By seizing the marketing moment, and applying the best of marketing honestly and effectively, health advocates can give kids and their parents a real and enduring taste of good eating.

BookExpo Americ...ahhhhhhh

As long as you’re asking (you are asking, aren’t you?), I spent last weekend in New York City at BookExpo  America. The trip wasn’t entirely successful: because of my schedule, I had to show up on the last day. I arrived with barely enough time to schedule interviews, find new ideas, and report in to you, dear audience, about the state of all things books.

But, alas, when I got to press registration, my name wasn’t on the press list. So, I raced from place to place (make that hobbled, as I had a backache) from supervisors who didn’t exist to employees who couldn’t help.  The journey was rather like a hike in the Grand Tetons, which had high exercise potential diminished by the stress and bad back. At long last, the guy-running-the-show (for media, anyway) appeared: a good looking guy, with an earring and sporty attire. Very New York.  You know, the guy who sent those e-mails inviting me to attend. Who I e-mailed accepting the invite. Who could help me get in fast because my professional clock was tick-tick-ticking. My savior!

I thought.

He greeted me with a curt and hurried “What is it?” I explained the situation which (it appeared) was simple enough. In a tone inspired by desperation was it? mania? that a. I should have had some form of i.d. (I did); b. I should have signed up online (I didn’t know, sorry); and c. I shouldn’t have brought my fourteen year old son, who was helping, what with my back and all.

Why I shouldn’t have brought my son, and why he had to shout this in front of the coliseum-size room (and my son), I don’t know, but the-guy-running-the-show said I could have a pass this once only, as he dashed across the room. “Then I won’t come next year,” I said. Which makes sense, don’t you think? “Fine, then no press pass!” he shouted. “No press pass!” Never mind, I just drove all the way in from DC. Never mind I had people to meet, features to produce. That was that.  So, with a scant few hours left, I paid for two tickets and went in.

I mention this saga because in some ways the guy-running-the-show represents the book industry…without the attitude. The conversations I’ve been having of late are tinged with panic, a feeling of racing out-of-control. And, there is much to be concerned about. The book-reading public has dwindled down to a handful. The numbers vary depending on the source, from most Americans read only one book a year (during summer vacation) to most women read nine books a year and men only one. The most popular books are in the romance /thriller genres, great for escapism, and how-to’s. Nothing against either venue (I have authored numerous how-to’s, myself) but they’re not much at doing what books do best: challenging us, bringing us closer to all corners of reality. 

I posed the issue to the aforementioned fourteen-year-old who motioned to his iPhone. “We don’t need books,” he said. “We can get them here. Or on the iPad. Or on Kindle. You can access more books there then you can read in a lifetime,” he said, vaguely reflecting the iPad ad.

But build it electronically and will they come? Or, more to the point, will they stay? As any marketer will tell you, speed is everything, the virtual universe demands it. The average visitor forms an opinion of a Web site is less than a second. Most people read a few lines, maybe paragraphs, of an online publication and move on. So, what is the likelihood that they’ll tune in for days, indulging in a 350-page narrative? Besides, most online mediums for the printed word are loaded with links to other sites, YouTube videos, and possibilities of signing up for the author’s (gasp) 140-word twitter. Who wants a medium that takes you nowhere but it to its own inky self? Granted, the industry is on an upswing, at least according to Tina Jordan of the Association of American Publishers. She says publishers are “cautiously optimistic” much, I’m sure, as real estate developers are today.

Which brings me to why books, especially the paper and ink type (with apologies to Al Gore), matter so much. Books demand the reader’s ultimate attention: when a book is in your hands, it is singularly yours.  No keys to press, no links to distract you, no ATT or Sprint-type conduits for the information.  I guess you could say the relationship is monogamous. Don’t want the book? You have the more formal process of putting it on a shelf somewhere and finding a new one.

Besides, books are quite possibly the last bastion of marketing-free purity. Each day most people confront between 5,000-6,000 marketing messages a day. They’re everywhere: on grocery receipts, bank statements, and the posters at doctors’ offices. They’re in schools, loaded in to movies and TV shows. And, thanks to the wonders of neuromarketing (which uses tenets of neuroscience) is beamed into our brains.

Not so with books. Books are one of the few relationships we have with the media that is untarnished by the looming and distracting presence of logos, links, or search engines. You flip the pages, put the book down, and no virtual presence passes the information to a waiting marketer. You pick up the book and see the cover: title, author’s name, and possibly price…but no ads for something else.

After the Expo, I was speaking to an editor from a French publishing house. She mirrored the thoughts of many in the business: books must change radically, she said, to survive. Maybe, but change into what? And who or what will fuel that change? And how long do we have? The questions may seem endless and the answers evasive.

Regardless, it’s important to remember that plenty of book-lovers are out there, among them women in book groups, blogger/reviewers, students discovering great ideas for the first time, industry folks, and the media. So, it’s important that we find each other, keep talking, and above all, folks like the-guy-running-the-show aside, be nice.

What's in A Nickname? More than You Think

Ever notice how companies – especially in the edibles area –have adopted nicknames? Their reasons are more strategic than a simple image adjustment. If you’re not sure what I’m referring to, think McDonald’s knick-name Micky D’s; Howard Johnson’s HoJo’s; and Burger King’s, MK.  Then there’s KFC…which really isn’t KFC, but Kentucky Fried Chicken… now, that is.

The restaurant started in the early 1930’s but was launched in its current fast food incarnation in 1952 by one Colonel Sanders. Doubtless, the “Colonel” helped the chain’s popularity: who could resist a meal home-cooked (sort of) by a Southern Colonel? Granted, the “Colonel” was a title which Kentucky Governor Ruby Laffoon bestowed on Harland Sanders in honor of his cuisine then served at “Sanders Court and Café.”

No matter, the title worked and so did the name until 1991, when Kentucky Fried Chicken wanted a hipped image and morphed into “KFC.” But the times have changed again and the cutely-named mega-monopoly parent company Yum! has resurrected the former Kentucky Fried self. As for the Colonel - he’s about as alive and well on every logo as a guy can get when he’s actually deceased.  

The drinking world is adrift with nicknames, as well: there’s the military-ish brand, Captain Morgan, now boiled down to “The Captain”; Budweiser, now the chummy “Bud”; and Belvedere Vodka, whose marketers, in a well-calculated gesture, have knick-named it “Belve” (as in “bell-vie”).  Even the non-alcohol types are joining in: most recent is Gatorade’s new “G Series.”  The “G Series”, while vaguely reminiscent of the arguably more enticing “G Spot”, evolved when the company realized they were missing a great opportunity: why sell a beverage that’s good for working out when you can sell three for before, during, and after the work out. The idea, geared to boast Gatorade’s sagging sales, is simply too bloated when called “The Gatorade Series” so they trimmed down to a simple “G.”

As for the reasons? It’s important to remember that people buy products because of how the brand makes them feel at a deeply emotional and visceral level, frequently having little to do with the product itself.  And nothing works quite like a name, especially when boiled down to an affectionate purr.  You know, like “Schoonukums,” “Buttercup-Bottom,” “Poochie.” Don’t be embarrassed – we all have a few. Anyway, once Budweiser becomes “Bud” it goes from the name of a beer to a personal reference point. It’s your beer. Your Bud. 

The nick-name taps something else that marketers crave: creating an insider’s club – a sense of belonging. You drink “Bell-vie” because you belong to the ultra-polished set. It becomes part of your identity, your conversational code while the other poor thugs are drinking Belvedere or, more likely, Bud.

Besides, the nick-names are easier to say and, even more to the point, easier to think. And that’s where marketers ultimately want to belonging. In your house. In your cabinet. And in your head. It’s much easier to say (and think) “Bud’ than “Budweiser” and “Micky D’s” has a bounce that “McDonald’s” does not. “The Colonel” flows through the head while “Harland Sanders” pounds through it like an overly in-bred, factory-farmed chicken. In fact, those nick-names make it so we don’t think about the poor processed chicken or, for that matter, the health effects of Micky D’s burger or the fact that, heck, Bellve, for all its panache, is still the vodka that the Cossacks drank.

Granted, not all nicknames are favorable, especially when picked by the public like Applebee’s “Crapplebee’s”; Taco Bell’s “Taco Hell”; and Starbuck’s “Four Bucks” (or five, depending where you go). Still, the good nick-names can be great for a company’s image, no matter what they serve.

 

Fruity and Loopy

So, I just finished my book, Flash Marketing, due out in September. And there I was, watching late night TV and an ad came on. Was I hallucinating? Had I spent too much time focusing on dishonest marketing strategies in my book?  Nope, the ad was really promoting Froot Loops as a "fun" way kids can get fiber in their diets.

The inner shriek sounded because, let's face it, the makers of Froot Loops know parents don't read advertising pitches. They experience them. And by saying that Froot Loops has fiber triggers a response of trust and a feeling that equates the high-sugar, no-fruit rings of artificial color (what Kellogg calls "colorful loops") with (gasp) a health food. Ahhhh...the inner shriek, the inner shriek...

To sweeten the deal, Kellogg has also produced a new variety: Froot Loops with marshmallows. It's enough to rot your fillings except...this variety is a  "sweetened multi-grain cereal". Note the "multi-grain." Essentially it means little - only food that contains "100% whole grain" really counts. Yet, it triggers that same flash response, subtle and pre-consconscious, of trust, wholesomeness.

As Marion Nestle pointed out in her Huffington Post piece, Froot Loops, which professes to  "...give kids a sweet and fruity start to the day" contains no fruit, has sugar as the first ingredient (making up 44% of the calories) and, well, you get the idea. Health food? Not. 

The Kellogg strategy is a common one among marketers. In her blog at the site at PRWatch.org,  Ann Landman points out that many non-healthy products squelch dissent by positioning their products as part of the solution, not the problem. Think: Zero Coke. Think: Dunkin' Donuts with 0% trans fat. 

Then, there's that word: "fun." As if eating fiber-rich foods such as apples, oats, and carrots were a deeply negative experience for kids. For example, what kid would ever eat a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast? It could never happen. Right? Huh?  But the word "fun", like the bright carnival-like colors of the cereal's marketing campaign, ignites another flash response: happiness. Parents feel like they're making their kids happy by serving them Froot Loops. In other words: I want to be happy, but I can't be happy until I make you happy...

And for Americans, accustomed to consuming thousands of marketing messages a day, the happy flash of Foot Loops, their new healthy foods best friend,is good enough.

          

Dunkin' Don'ts

I may have mentioned this is other blogs...but may I repeat: Americans get exposed to some 5,000-7,000 marketing messages a day. Cereal companies send them, so do government officials, drug manufacturers, school systems, book peddlers, medical practices, psychologists, hair dressers, yoga teachers, and religious organizations marketing their orientation to God. This makes marketing the single strongest influence in our society today. Now, factor in the power and persuasiveness of marketing strategies and you have a force that can do incredible good in the world – or remarkable harm.

Now, allow me a quick sermon: the power and prevalence of marketing means that the marketers, whether touting products, ideas, or services have enormous responsibility. They must be conscientiously honest, authentic, and clear: not only in their positioning but the implications of their positioning. This may seem obvious, but the marketing world is expert at dodging the issue. In fact, they don’t even discuss it directly. Even when sort-of kind-of acknowledging that someone in the industry is telling less-than-the-truth, marketing professionals use grayish sounding euphemisms, such as “mislead,” or “insinuate”. But in the immortal words of Gertrude Stein, a rose is a rose is a rose.

While examples of lying (there, I said it!) abound everywhere, they’re especially glaring in the food industry. Mark Cucuzzella is an Associate Professor of Family Medicine at the West Virginia University Department of Family Medicine and a practicing physician. He says that marketers frequently take a reductionist approach: if something has less of something, then it’s got to be good for you. And hence we have what I call the “O Phenomenon.” That’s when marketers claim their products have “O” of something the consumer doesn’t what.

One example is “Coke Zero”. Marketers made an entire brand over the what-I-don’t-have concept – it’s even the name of the product. The idea of zero calories taps into the consumer’s obsession about being thin. For ages, marketers and, unwittingly, well-intended health care providers, have equated thinness with love, social acceptance, and success, not to mention health. Telling someone their products have “O” calories ignites a flash response of trust, gratitude, and well-being. Yes, at some deep level “O” calories translates into all of this – and more. They believe that “O” calories translates into good health.  

But, as Cucuzzella points out, “They may not have calories, but they have artificial ingredients. The verdict’s still out on how harmful these are to the body…possibly worse than the added sugar.” Plus, he adds, what would the consumer be drinking if not Coke? Maybe another zero calorie beverage like, say, water. 

Perhaps the prize “O” marketing stint goes to Dunkin’ Donuts, though. Granted, donuts are the quintessential comfort food and a basic of tough guys like construction workers and cops. But a health food? Heck no: donuts are as bad as they are good. Then, why does the box claim the donuts contain “O trans fat”?  Because people see the box and a flash reaction kicks in – you know, trust, comfort and all the rest – and people start believing donuts aren’t that bad for you, after all.

If the brand’s any good, just tell it like it is.  I know I should stop now, but allow me a moment more of venting. Countless other food products exploit the flash response by pinning bold pronouncements on their labels such as “No artificial ingredients”, “low fat,” and my favorite, “25% less fat”. The flash goes off, marketers know it goes off, and the product sells. Never mind, many of those “No artificial ingredients” foods contain preservatives, artificial colors and modified stuff that either has been engineered into becoming food or was food but of a different makeup altogether.

As for the “less fat” or, for that matter, less anything, the question remains: “Less than what?” Less than the other products? A donut that has 25% less sugar still has a boatload of sweets.  In the end, ethical marketing is a personal choice and can only occur one marketer at a time. Next question: are they up to the challenge?

 

Liquid Fat meets 0 Calories

You really hate put down a great message, especially one that targets a drink as useful as drinking, well, liquid fat. The PSAs, brought to you by the New York City Department of Health, reveal a person pouring beverages that morph into liquid fat as they enter the glass. Take a look, and cringe.  The video is even more revolting. They leave nothing to the imagination: the fat is about as fatty as it gets.

So before I say what's wrong with this campaign, let me to say what's right. For starters, the ad makes you feel something, rather than just think something like "Gee, I shouldn't drink all those sugary sodas." Most PSAs, like other ads, try to get a feeling response, but most are unsuccessful. Think: those endless drunk-driving PSAs with un-riveting visuals of shattered glass, a yawn given the endless roll of "I Am Legend" type  movies where everything shatters. Sizzles. And burns.

The PSA also recommends a replacement for soda: water, seltzer, or milk. Another plus, considering breaking any habit requires starting another, hopefully healthier,one. But will water really replace soda? Just roam around any office space and you'll see workers, primarily women on diets, carrying these 5-gallon-ish water bottles that they sip from constantly. So, maybe.

But face it: ultimately, water, milk, and seltzer just aren't...well, sugary. Or for that matter, tasty. And sugar, for many, is a real source of comfort dating back to mother's milk. So, the replacement may be a deterrent.  Or will it? Perhaps the audience will go for the next best thing: looks like sugary soda, tastes like sugary soda...but...if you don't know what I'm talking about, here's one more hint: has zero calories. I'm speaking of the seemingly endless array of un-sodas, which pump their pseudo-beverages with artificial ingredients that can do no good to humankind...aside from the no calorie thing.

The solution, and I hate to say it because I really DO like this PSA, lies in a different angle. Rather than focusing on fat and weight loss, like 9/10ths of food marketers out there, how about focusing on health? Shouldn't people be eating and drinking foods that make them feel better and live better instead of look better? And face it, when people think "fat", they think looks. Oh - and how about some branding? Like soda is uncool. Unhip. And will never get you dates...a real perk to the Gen Ys the ad seems to be targeting.

I'd be interested in knowing whether the New York Health Department has any way of tracking the results of their ads. If they do, I hope my assumptions are wrong.