My Relationship with Brands

It just took me over 20 minutes to look up the name of my Management & Organizational Analysis professor, but I finally emerged victorious (working in search really hones your sleuthing skills). The reason I was Googling Reinhard Bachmann was because I wanted to admit that I finally understand the importance of his book Trust Within and Between Organizations. I never thought I'd actually be using information from my MOA class. It seemed like a colossal waste of time the whole time I was taking it (and long after), but I find myself thinking about the lessons more and more these days.

The personification of brands is not an uncommon practice. Ronald McDonald is the first example that comes to mind. But the difference between the brands of yore and the brands today is that today our information about brands come from a multitude of locations. Even though some people might find Ronald McDonald creepy, our image of him is still something carefully crafted by the wizards at McDonald's Corporation. And for the longest time, Ronald equaled McDonald's; when someone thought of McDonald's, Ronald was not far behind. Fast forward a couple of years, and Ronald is no longer the first thing people think of. With today's access to information, the customer service, the sustainability of the food, Supersize Me, and Ronald all hold keys to determining McDonald's brand in the minds of its stakeholders. Now if I were to personify McDonald's, Ron English's fat Ronald is more on target than the kind Ronald in charge of Ronald McDonald House Charities.


Which one is more on brand?

I believe that brand personification has a new meaning these days. It's not just about creating a character for your brand. Aunt Jemima, Mr. Clean, and Eddie from Accounting are no longer the sole brand reps. The new brand character is the imaginary person you invent in your head when you combine all of the information you've learned about a brand. BP might claim it's a green company, but in my mind BP is a woman who claims she has a compost heap but in reality just throws all her trash in her neighbor's yard.

This is where I start thinking about how trust plays into today's world of brand definition. If a corporation says one message through its marketing channels, but somehow consumers experience another message, trust in the brand decreases. In order to gain the consumers' trust, a company has to make sure that the brand message from all angles is consistent. That doesn't mean making sure advertising campaigns match what's in the corporate press releases. I mean taking the time to ensure that actions match the words. Would anybody ever trust a person who promised to help move furniture while running quickly in the opposite direction? No. Then why would anyone trust a company that does the same thing?

If a company manages to earn trust, consumers (aka the trusting party) will be more willing to allow the feeling of vulnerability and follow a company as it grows. I know that people make mistakes so I'm willing to forgive and forget if someone I trust fucks up occasionally. If someone I don't trust screws up, that just reinforces the belief that I shouldn't trust that person. I hold corporations to the same standard.

The role of search and social influence marketing is becoming more important in determining the brand character people build in their minds and in helping corporations maintain consistent brand messaging. Both of these channels are able to interact with people just as they're thinking about the brand. The power of search ads comes from their ability to address needs at the exact time someone wants answers. Twitter and the likes take that to the next level by allowing direct communication with the brand. JetBlue understands that. Zappos understands that. Intel sorta gets it but still mostly pushes corporate news.

So my one bit of advice is to be true to who you are. People will appreciate the honesty. Don't pretend to be someone you're not because you will always be found out in the end.

Home is Where Your Rump Rests

It may seem like my musings and ponderings have petered out, but I assure you, anonymous reader, that that is not the case. I just haven't had as much time to write lately with all of the work/good weather/couch naps I've been having.

But here I am today, and I would like to discuss the subject of the flighty living in New York. I just got back from a really rigorous round of negotiations (my roommate did most of the talking. I just nodded along) I had with my leasing office mad early in the morning (10:30 AM). Coming back, I realize just how little I've felt at home in New York in the past 6 years.

It's not that I don't call my various places of living "home". I like that I have a place to sleep at night, that I have a really expensive storage area for all of my stuff. But most of my important pieces of mail still go to the house where I grew up. I still have trouble saying "my parents' house" because I still consider that my house. I can still sit on the floor of my empty old bedroom (most things, including my bed, have been moved into the city) and feel like I belong there.

I wonder if this feeling is one that I alone experience or if it's a product of living in a place where you're ready to pick up and leave in one or two years. Perhaps this feeling is less pronounced when you buy an apartment or if you're settled down in a long term relationship, but for those who have neither of those, it's so easy to get swept up into the temporariness of all life in the city. Stores change hands all of the time. Your favorite bar could be there one day and gone the next. And if your rent gets jacked up, you're out the door looking for a new apartment. I have yet to live in an apartment for more than a year.

The ability to pick up and move at any second is not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, I don't even know where I'll end up in the next couple of years, so having temporary housing is preferable. Yet it still definitely adds to the feeling that I'm just another urban nomad until I can find a place to really call home.