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.”

 

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.

Reebok Shocks?

If you haven’t seen the recent Reebok advertisement for their EasyTone brand of footwear, you have GOT to go to the company’s Web site and take a look. Click into the Reebok women's shoe page and you’ll see the header: “Easy Tone – Happy New Rear…” Get it – new rear? The point is that just by wearing the sneakers, you’ll improve your butt, calves, thighs, the whole deal. Or, as they say: “EasyTone helps you get better legs and a better butt with every single step.” No question, the marketing promise is just as cheesy as the header.

But wait until you see the ads themselves. You’re treated to women clad in nary a garment (if you’re lucky) and Reebok shoes. Their legs are gorgeous in the traditional sense, meaning unrealistically thin and cellulite-free and wholly unlike 95% of the women alive today. I didn’t make the 95% up, by the way. Numerous sources indicate that 95% of all women, even marathon runners, have cellulite, making Reebok’s promise as ludicrous as it is unnecessary. Besides who  wants abnormally thin legs, anyway?

Trust the ad and plenty of people do. They claim the result will make “…78% of men speechless and 81% of women jealous.” Explain, please. Where did these figures come from?  Credibility issues aside, the Reebok ad models are not speed walking, running, or even strolling, but lying down or standing more-or-less in place as if the shoes somehow performed their magic on their own.

 The real problem with the ads, though, is not the tasteless or unlikely nature of their promise. It’s just about everything else. For one, they present body parts as independent entities, giving new meaning to the word “objectification” and furthering the marketers perennial mission of alienating women from their physical selves. In one bazaar twist of advertising, for example, a pair of breasts are actually jealous, yes jealous, of all the attention the Reebok-shaped butt is winning. Look, I’m a woman. I’ve put on and taken off a bra more time than I can imagine. I nursed my kid for ages. And through all this, my breasts have not once uttered a word to me.

But the breasts aren’t the only ones who are jealous. Remember, that statistic I mention a few paragraphs up, that 81% of women will be jealous of the Reebok shaped result? The ad taps the negative and antiquated idea of women as competitors, not, say, friends, allies, confidants, heck, comrades as demonstrated in everything from the Relay for Life campaigns to Dykes on Bikes. 

 And competing for what? Male attention, of course, which brings me to the final point as prevalent in marketing to women as diet plans: fitness is all about looking good for someone else and not about, say, becoming, stronger, more powerful, and more of yourself….flab, dimples, big bottom and all.  

Granted, Reebok is struggling. Now owned by the German footwear company Adidas, it has been wavering on a high wire of brand identity issues for ages. How long they will last on this shaky path is questionable. Not to prolong the metaphor, but if they should stumble and fall, I have advice for their lead creative agency, Omnicom’s DDB Worldwide. Try a better idea. Something with honesty, taste and respect. It would be refreshing and might actually sell something even better than shoes.