Like most people, I look at and listen to ads because they expose me to new products and services and reinforce previous buying decisions.
In the March 2007 issue of this magazine, there’s a terrific ad. It’s only an eighth of a page, it’s not very sophisticated, and, in fact, it’s sort of clunky looking. But this little black and white ad should get an award for outstanding performance. It’s like when Joe Mauer really connects with the ball and the outfield doesn’t even move because they know it’s a home run. This little ad does what an ad is supposed to do: It catches your eye; it quickly delivers a message (stop slippery floors and steps), it provides credibility (20th year, industry experts), and it hits you over the head with how to contact them. And to top it off, there’s an illustration that absolutely nails down the message. It’s an ad that will never win an ad industry prize, but it’s a home run for the advertiser.
I mention all this because of my growing dismay at the number of ads in all media that are willing to value cuteness or cleverness over the normal purpose of the ad, which is to effectively promote a service or product in a way that will attract the attention of the advertiser’s intended audience. Too often, I’m afraid, people creating and approving ads settle for partial accomplishment and let it go at that. Maybe they figure if the headline is clever enough, or the illustration gorgeous enough, or the text glorious enough, then the ad can do without telling the reader just what the product is or how to contact someone at the company. Company managers: You need to look at every new ad proposal and ask, “What is this ad supposed to accomplish?” and, “Does it?”
People don’t like to be tricked,
so my second message to advertisers is, “Don’t play games.” Hardly a day goes by
when I don’t hear, on the radio, some commercial in which the announcer gives
his pitch followed by the “small print”—side effects or exclusions or
limitations—spoken by someone whose words have been electronically speeded up to
the point of total unintelligibility.
Technically, the advertiser
can claim to have told listeners about the awful side effects, or the fact that
the “fabulous offer” expires in an hour, or that continued use of the pills will
result in glaucoma, diarrhea, and blotchy skin. But obviously, no one really
heard the message. My reaction to those ads is that the advertiser is playing
games with me and doesn’t want me to know the facts he’s required to deliver.
Therefore, why should I trust the rest of his message?
On the little package of Fig Newtons I just bought, there’s a bright green square that says, “Made with 100 percent more real fruit.” Than it used to have, I figured it meant. But wait . . . when I unfolded the package flap, the message continued, “than a Nutri-Grain bar. Twice the level of fruit per bar versus Nutri-Grain strawberry cereal bars.” Hey, come on, Nabisco. You’re playing games here and you don’t have to do that. Why don’t you use the space to say “Absolutely no trans fats,” or “America’s favorite fruit treat,” or “Stays fresh longer.” Or even have some fun with “100 percent more fruit than a sausage pizza.” But just don’t think Fig Newtons sales are going to grow because of that little deceit.
Reminder ads that lack all of the normal pertinent information are fine, if your product is really well known among the people you’re trying to reach. But very few products or services have near-universal awareness.
In terms of wasting ad dollars, we won’t even get into stores or products that run their name and a few cryptic words and no other identifiers. “Beringue—for the ultimate experience!” What is it? A resort? An undergarment? An after-shave lotion? A sex toy? A new BMW model? We’ll never know, and despite the spectacular photo of the sun reflecting on some rippling water, no one else will know, either. And somewhere out in advertising land, a product manager will have to come up with reasons business isn’t better.
