Lockdown Liebling

 

After nearly nine months of on-and-off lockdown, and all those brands doing amazing pivoting while being there for me personally every minute of the day, which one has stood out for me as my own Covid champion?

Although it may not have been good for my liver, Jacques' Wein Depot has definitely been good for my soul. 

I'm wary of pushing the "brands are like human beings" analogy too far, but this is surely one brand where I'll admit to having a relationship (and my husband is well-aware of the fact). 

While I'm aware that, like many other brands, I could go online with Jacques', part of the appeal is that the relationship is 90% analogue, real life, or whatever you like to call it. Yes, they do gather data about what I've bought which results in freebies and birthday bottle and suchlike, but I don't have any permanent, alarming reminder whizzing around on my iPhone. The newsletter is paper and comes through the post, and I can read it at my leisure.

I love the combination of dependability, knowledge and little surprises. I've collected a lot of freebies over the years. Some I use, while some sit in their boxes looking pretty. They are always appreciated.

Of course, I buy plonk at the local supermarket, too. Sometimes even good bottles of wine from a trip away (what's that?) or another wine warehouse - but I always come back to Jacques'. Even though there's no tasting there at the moment, and you have to shuffle around in masks.

And perhaps, the strongest connections with a brand are through personal experience. An event at which the brand played a small, but important part. Earlier in the year, having had a Weinwanderung cancelled, I had the madcap idea of a Eurovision Wein Grand Prix - a stagger around local countryside with wine from six different European countries - Germany, Austria, Portugal, Spain, Italy and France.

Without doubt, it was one of the best days of the year so far. (Italy won, by the way).

It's cheers to my lockdown hero brand, and happy first Advent Sunday to all!  

Book binding

The notion of the customer relationship seems to be going out of fashion a little, perhaps muted by the increasing volume of "consumers don't want to have a relationship with your brand"-type clickbait headlines in marketing articles. Or maybe due to the obsessional focus on "the customer experience". But long-term experience, relationship, call it what you will is what this post is about.

Amazon is one of those brands that made a huge difference to my life. I often wonder whether it's the brand itself or the generic service of an online bookstore, but if so, Amazon was certainly the right brand in the right place for me in the late 1990s. No longer did I have to trek into Frankfurt to buy books in English. And in the early 2000s, as my son was young, Amazon was a godsend, both for the latest children's books and for tracking down old favourites from my childhood to read to him.

I started reviewing relatively late into my Amazon relationship - I've tracked down my first review, which was in May 2006. In the following 14 years, I've contributed over 300 reviews, mostly books, with the occasional CD or DVD thrown in. My reviews were always intended more for my own reference, but I was flattered when others commented on them or found them helpful. I had a brief season of fame as a Top 1000 reviewer, and was amassing 30, 40, 50, 60 helpful votes on each review on a regular basis. I felt valued, not just in terms of my custom, but also for my contribution and opinions.

It all started to go sour about six or seven years ago. Ratings, and putting a work of literature on the same level as a piece of cable or a packet of paper napkins, fake reviews, world domination, dubious business practices ... Amazon seemed far removed from the benevolent bookseller of the early days.

I carried on posting reviews, but with less enthusiasm. My Top 1000 crown had slipped, maybe because I wasn't reviewing the popular books, and maybe because I was only reviewing books, and not pieces of cable or packets of paper napkins. I started hearing reports about reviews being deleted if Amazon's algorithms detected a relationship (ha!) between the reviewer and the author.

Since October 2019, Amazon have made it official: ratings are what counts, reviews are by-the-by. And the star rating a book, or any other product, displays is not the simple average of all the ratings. Oh, no. That would be much too clear. Here's their explanation:

Amazon calculates a product’s star ratings based on a machine learned model instead of a raw data average. The model takes into account factors including the age of a rating, whether the ratings are from verified purchasers, and factors that establish reviewer trustworthiness.

Given that Amazon's ethos is about shiny new things, I seriously doubt that ratings are like wine: the age factor is, in all likelihood, a negative one. So the rating accompanying my well-thought out review in 2008 will be factored down compared to a bot giving a one-tap rating yesterday.

And most recently, I haven't even been able to post reviews on Amazon.co.uk at all, where they'd be most relevant, as I review English-language books. I can still post on Amazon.de as I spend more than I'd like to on books for my Kindle - but who is going to read my reviews there? Here's another example of Amazon making me feel like a valued customer, in their explanation as to why "this account has not met the minimum eligibility requirements to write a review":

To contribute to Community Features (for example, Customer Reviews, Customer Answers), you must have spent at least £40 on Amazon.co.uk using a valid payment card in the past 12 months. Promotional discounts don't qualify towards the £40 minimum. You do not need to meet this requirement to post Customer Questions, create or modify Profile pages, Lists, or Registries, or to read content posted by other customers.

It's not one of the world's (or even my) most pressing problems, but it does make me nostalgic for what seemed in retrospect, like a Brave New World in the mid 2000s, where anything was possible.

I'm stuck with Amazon, mainly through my Kindle. I could give up on the reviews, and go back to just doing them for myself, or on a blog, or on GoodReads. I could try and extricate myself, buy a new e-reader and start again. But it's all too much of a faff. Amazon have got me where they want me - just another customer, bound-up and too apathetic to make a fuss. 

And that's what they mean by customer-centricity.

You can't put customers anywhere

The notion of "customer-centricity" has always seemed an odd one to me, and one of the hugest gulfs between what brands and companies rattle on about via their websites, and what they actually do in the day-to-day.

I have nothing against "customer-centricity" if it means providing goods and services that customers need or desire, and ensuring an excellent experience before, during and after purchase (or similar).

But shouldn't businesses be doing this as a matter of course?

Didn't we move on, in the last century, from a production-led world through a sales-led world to a marketing-led world?

Why do companies have to boast about "customer-focus", "true customer-centricity", or "looking through a lens of customer-centricity"?

Possibly the worst cliche of the lot is the one about "we put the customer at the heart of our business." Apart from having an aversion to customer/consumer in the singular (if there is just one, it's easily understood and controlled), I find this yet another example of the arrogance of brands - or I should say, the people behind them.

The whole phrase suggests a glorified game of piggy-in-the-middle, with the (single) hapless customer pushed into the centre of an organisation by an omnipotent brand, then held there trapped while balls fly over their head. The reality is that no organisation can "put" any customer anywhere - they will come of their own accord if you get your marketing right. And then move onto the next thing that takes their fancy.

I mentioned the 2019 Workforce Purpose Index from Imperative last time:

People are more likely to report being fulfilled when they perceive that leadership makes employees a higher priority than customers.

This makes so much sense. With your employees, you stand a good chance of:

Reaching them in the first place.
Knowing and understanding them - at least in certain aspects of their lives.
Building a relationship with them.

And with employees who are not just engaged and satisfied, but fulfilled too, you stand a far better chance of fulfilling your many individual customers' needs and desires, too.

Especially for you

2018, the trend forecasters inform us, will see yet more leaps forward in brands getting close up and personal with their customers.

Right on cue, I received the flyer above a couple of days ago, through the good old post. It's not from a huge global brand, but from a local sports store, informing me of a loyalty bonus I've earned. I have to say that receiving something with my name literally on it made me feel quite special. Especially as I am about to set off to the slopes. I was flattered by this little surprise, a lot more so than if it had been sent via email.

But maybe that's the point. The surprise is that it combines what we used to call old (flyer) media with new (personalisation) technology. No-one would be surprised to receive something of this sort via their smart phone, for example.

This raises an interesting issue about people's expectations. We say again and again that people's expectations from brand communication are changing, but we seldom stop to think what that really means. What it does mean is that personalisation will become so commonplace that it won't be a surprise any more. It will become par for the course, expected, maybe not even noticed any more, in the way that people want Smart Home technology 'so seamless it's forgotten.'

We all have the same tools at our disposal. Being first to use these may win you a few temporary points for novelty value. But it's only when the tools are used in a fashion and to a purpose that is unique to your brand and what it stands for that will build lasting attachment.

My brand, right or wrong!

Every now and then, I come across a presentation or a blog post that's a refreshing antidote to the usual marketing and advertising hubris blah-blah where toilet cleaner brands are regularly raised to the status of demi-gods.

This time it's a presentation from Martin Weigel of Wieden & Kennedy entitled How to (not) Fail, and he's blogged about it in a post entitled A tale of humility and indifference.

Well worth reading to take you down to earth, Martin stresses the over reliance of marketeers on metaphor and specifically that metaphor of relationships with brands reflecting human relationships. And when he's taken you down to earth, he inspires you again by showing exactly how important stunning creativity is to overcome indifference.

One of the words in the marketing vocabulary that most gets my goat is one of the older ones: loyalty. The use of this word in describing the relationship between a person and a brand (or even a company) has always made me queasy. Loyalty is defined, usually, as "true, faithful to duty, love or obligation (to a person)" or possibly "faithful in allegiance to sovereign, mother country".

Now, one of the reasons that all that "King and Country" stuff has gone out of the window in the last century is that people have realised that you don't get much back for your investment of your love, duty or even life. And it's the same with brands. They cannot return or reward this "faithfulness" except with a  few Airmiles or a 25% discount when you've collected twenty five stickers on that annoying card cluttering up your wallet with zillions of others.

I've heard marketers getting quite huffy when talking about their "unloyal (sic) customers", as if they'd committed some ghastly act of betrayal. But seriously, what are you going to do if your customers decide to try another brand? Shoot them? Track down their new flame and peel its brand onion with a rusty knife?

At the end of it, "your" customers are usually someone else's, too.

P...pick up a Puffin

Which brands from our childhood have the most impact on our lives? In my case, Puffin Books stands out as a major contributor to my obsession with both reading and writing - and the way the brand was marketed in the late 60s and 70s is still a text book example of marketing to children - and getting it right.

For those not in the know, Puffin books was Penguin's children's imprint. In the late 60s, Puffin's  chief editor, Kaye Webb launched the Puffin Club, whose main medium was the quarterly magazine Puffin Post. This was packed full of book reviews and previews, interviews with authors, jokes, competitions and contributions from Puffin Club members. The whole package (including the envelope) was wittily and charmingly designed by the illustrator Jill McDonald.

Kaye Webb was a woman before her time when it came to marketing. She had a Mission - to get children reading, a strategy to do this - to connect children to authors and illustrators and held the belief that the world would be a better place if more children read books. She's even quoted as seeing her role to spread "Puffinness" - a most modern idea of branding!

So many elements of the Puffin brand and Kaye Webb's approach ring a bell for 21st century marketers: added value and brand extension, a social network, 360° marketing, edutainment - it's all there. Just from the top of my mind, I remember diaries, badges, bookplates, even a Puffin glove puppet to make yourself. And there were holidays, although I never got to go on those. That's on top of all the wonderful books with their brilliant cover illustration and design.

Now, that's what I call making a difference to someone's life.

P.S. For the Puffin nerds amongst us, have a look at The Puffin Club Archive for some wonderful memories.

Drinking around

If you are anything like me, your wallet is probably bulging with silly little loyalty cards from the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker, the hairdresser, the chemist, the sandwich shop...

Now, here's an idea that I've seen before, but something about it tickles me. In Singapore, the Be Disloyal card has been introduced to benefit the city's independent cafes. The idea is simple - instead of slavishly frequenting one of those plastic corporate coffee places, you get the opportunity to visit 8 different coffee shops, then go back to the first to claim your free cup (or whatever.)

It's encouraging drinking around, which must be a Good Thing.

And it makes me wonder - which other old marketing chestnuts can I subvert next year?

MacOstracised

Phoning Telekom used to be right up there on my "favourite things to do in Germany" list along with discussing pension plans, visiting the dentist and filling in my tax return. Every time something went wrong with my email, or that box on the wall, or that thing with flashing lights that sits on my desk, I would be filled with creeping dread.

They have got better. Problems have been sorted out without a 30 minute da-da-da-di-dah! preamble. And they have now even started to get proactive.

A nice young lady rang me up the other day with an offer too good to refuse. They'd twigged that I called their technical people regularly so now I was to be offered my very own dedicated technician. It sounded just the ticket.

But...

Me: "Does this technician understand Macs?"

She: "Uh...no. Our technicians understand Microsoft."

Here tone changed completely. Admitting to having a Mac was tantamount to admitting to some nasty highly contagious disease caught from dodgy practices of an unmentionable nature. She wanted to end the conversation as soon as possible. Even my pleas for her to pass on my suggestion that maybe they could recruit a few technicians that understand Macs fell on deaf ears. Da-da-da-di-dah!

Come on, Telekom! There you are selling iPhones like hot cakes but hasn't it occurred to you that all these people with iPhones could be attracted to an iPad, or a MacBook? And that they might need a bit of support with the internet side of things?

That phrase with left hands and right hands and not knowing what the other is doing comes to mind.

Hej!

At the moment, online communities seem to be popping up at a rate last seen during during the Gold Rush, rather like blogs a couple of years ago.

But I do think some brands lend themselves to communities better than others. IKEA, for example, was always destined to formalise or take its existing community online.

The business that the brand is in - Home Furnishings - and the fact that it's a brand with customer involvement at its core, not to mention the legions of existing fans AND those with an opinion make a community an obvious next step. Have a look here - and I expect that this community is not likely to become a virtual Ghost Town within a year.

Dilapidation Paranoia

They're picking on me. All those marketeers of products for those whose bodies are falling into a state of rack and ruin. And I don't like it.

It started with Facebook. I noticed ads jumping out at me about tricks to get rid of Bauchfett. OK, while it's in the virtual world, you can pretend it's not real. Because it isn't, really.

But then on Saturday I was accosted by two very real young women from CaloryCoach outside my local supermarket. I'll be honest, I did take it personally. But I fended them off with what I hope was a humorous comment. I refrained from saying that they both looked rather more in need of CaloryCoach than I do - or maybe self-delusion is just another symptom of ageing.

Finally, I was attacked in my very own home by a suspiciously squashy direct mail piece. "Do you know the feeling too? In Summer we feel more active, less tied down, somehow more free...But many women feel limitations on their freedom. The reason is a weak bladder..."

And yes, a free sample of TENA Lady Ultra Mini was enclosed. It was suggested, should I have no use for it, to pass it onto a friend. Now, who's going to be the lucky recipient? Don't all shout at once! And, should I prefer, I could test the TENA Lady Mini Magic, the TENA Lady Ultra Mini, the TENA Lady Mini (sounds a bit dull, that one) or the TENA Lady Mini Plus (an oxymoron?).

I could go on and on about how their marketing could be improved on so many levels. But I won't. It will just make me sound like a grumpy old woman.

Shortcut through the stamp collectors

For one reason and another, I have had to get my hands on some UK stamps this week. Now, I suppose I could have just asked a friend to buy a few and send them over but in today's world of long tails and 24 hour home shopping I decided it must be not only possible but easy to order these over the internet.

One option I had was to forget the stamps and get something called an International Reply Coupon but these seem to be about as rare as a Penny Black and furthermore, you have to go through Deutsche Post, who are not my best friends (see Return to Sender).

So I had a look at the Royal Mail shop. There weren't any 56p stamps for sale, so I thought I'd order a sheet of 10p ones. After giving Royal Mail my full details a few times over, probably including my shoe size and passport number, I sat back and waited for my stamps to arrive. What did arrive was an email, informing me that, despite having every country in the world as an option on the various forms, this service was only for UK customers.

Luckily, there was a number to ring. That of "philatelic enquiries". I gave it a go and spoke to an extremely helpful man with a wonderful Scottish accent. He was a little disappointed that I only wanted common-or-garden 56p stamps, but he didn't let that deter him. He responded to my enquiry with the same interest and genuine "customer-orientation" as if I'd ordered a bulk lot of the rarest First Day Covers.

If only all Customer Call Centres could be like this!

Return to Sender

I'm going to see just how much Deutsche Post live up to their
positioning as "part of one of the world's leading logistics companies"
as a result of a recent very German experience.

A couple of weeks ago, I sent a little card to my mother in the UK with the usual postage for something under 20g. I was rather taken aback when the card was returned with a huge sticker from the Post on it (almost the size of the card itself...) demanding an extra €2.70.
Apparantly, the dimensions of the little card were too great for it to be classified as a "Standard Letter", that is, the breadth should fall between 9 and 12.5cm.

Rather bemused, I measured the card and found it to be a proud Imperial 5.5 inches square (particularly fitting, I felt, as the picture is one by Constable). This translates to 13.4 cm. But, looking at the next size of permitted envelopes in the world of Deutsche Post, I noted that these require a minimum length of 14cm, so my card falls 6mm short. In other words, my card doesn't really exist in the wonderful world of the leading global logistics experts.

Anyway, I have written a letter to the powers that be and I will be most interested to hear and see if I get a reply. I would have thought that the Post in whichever country should be encouraging peoploe to write letters, not penalising them for the sake of a few millimetres here and there.

Free Planning for the neighbours?

I've found the ideal solution to "Predictably Irrational": a friend has lent the book to me. I'm now about half-way through and it's not bad: Dan Ariely has an amusing way of putting things and his writing does have you questioning things you do in your work and in your own life.

On that very topic, the chapter on social and market norms is of particular interest to me as a freelancer, as I think that what is work and what is social is probably even more blurred for us than for employed folk.

I now know why I feel uncomfortable when neighbours ask me to run a workshop or do some positioning work for their business: I know I can't charge them my normal rates, however much they insist, nor do I really want to do it for free. I can also understand the unpleasant feeling (this hasn't happened to me yet) when a "friend" suddenly produces an invoice for that brand name brainstorming you had over a couple of glasses of red wine.

Dan Ariely has the answer: these are all instances of when social and market norms become blurred: "Asking a friend to help move a large piece of furniture or a few boxes is fine. But asking a friend to help move a lot of boxes or furniture is not - especially if the friend is working side by side with movers who are getting paid for the same task...Similarly, asking your neighbor (who happens to be a lawyer) to bring in your mail while you're on vacation is fine. But asking him to spend the same amount of time preparing a rental contract for you - free - is not."

There are also interesting implications for relationship marketing. Again, Dan Ariely has the answer: "If you're a company, my advice is to remember that you can't have it both ways. You can't treat your customers like family one moment and then treat them impersonally - or, even worse, as a nuisance or a competitor - a moment later when this becomes more convenient or profitable."

Interesting stuff. Now, I wonder if I should offer my friend money for the loan of the book or not?

More from Willy Wonka and the cock-up terminal

I probably should lay off kicking them when they are down, but British Airways managed to annoy me again yesterday with an e-mail from the Director of Operations. There were so many apologies in this e-mail that it sounded like that dreadful yowling "hit" that we've been subjected to on the radio for what seems like the last year.

But in my case, it was unnecessary to apologise. I have my bags, I am back home and I just want to put the experience behind me. It is now rather alarming, but not altogether surprising, to learn that, with all their sophisticated methods, BA don't actually know if I am still waiting for my bag to reappear after its little holiday in Milan or not.

At the end of the e-mail, in case I was wondering, it states that "you have received this email because it contains important information regarding your relationship with British Airways." No it doesn't. And much as we may talk about "relationship marketing" among ourselves, I don't think that the average person really wants to be told that they have a "relationship" with British Airways.

So, for light relief, here's a fun game I found. I would suggest an extra level where Willie starts packing bags off to Milan, Barcelona, Timbuktu and the South Pole.