Filed under: Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Childhood, Context, Corporate Evil, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, England, Entertainment, Football, Mediocrity, Music, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Paul, Queen, Sentimentality, Sport, World Cup
Recently I came across this photo of the old Wembley being demolished …
And while I know the new stadium is better – albeit with terrible wifi/phone signal access, which is ironic given it’s sponsored by O2 – there was something about that photo that made me sad.
Of course it’s because I’m a sentimental fart.
Because despite seeing my beloved Nottingham Forest gain promotion in the new stadium, that old one has even more significant memories for me.
Live Aid.
Seeing Queen there.
And the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert.
Not to mention Bruce Springsteen, Madonna and countless other bands and singers.
Then there’s watching Brian Clough lead Nottingham Forest out for their various cup finals.
There was something magical about that old stadium when I was growing up.
It was the pinnacle. Where World Cups and Legends were celebrated and made.
And while there were other venues around the World that could lay claim to a similar standing … this was mine. In England. In our capital. A way to reinforce that for all the Madison Square Gardens and Giant Stadiums out there, we had ours. We still mattered. A bit.
Now I should point out I’m not saying this from a xenophobic ‘ENG-GER-LAND’ perspective … I mean it more in the same way I viewed Raleigh Bikes in Nottingham.
And while we replaced Wembley with a new and improved version – which is far more than Raleigh managed to do – there’s something about that photo that still hurts.
Not because I don’t love change – because even though I’m a sentimental, old fart, I do – but maybe because the replacement feels a bit soulless. Designed to look the part without ever really demonstrating they understand what it takes to be the part. Efficiency over character. Optimisation over soul. Money over memory.
I get this is probably only felt by people of a certain age.
I get the times have changed and so Wembley is not as unique as it once was.
But what shapes our identity is often the weird, the inconvenient and the personal symbols of possibility … and somewhere along the line, we’ve been made to think these aren’t as important as efficiency and complicity. Of course the irony of this thinking is that this is the sort of shit that is keeping us down rather than lifting us up.
Or maybe that’s exactly what some people intend it to do.
Jesus, I’ve become a conspiracy theorist now. That’s all we need.
See you tomorrow. Unless the FBI pick me up before then.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Death, Empathy, Love, Loyalty, Otis, Sentimentality
This week has seen quite a lot of sentimental posts so far.
Or should I say, has seem more sentimental posts that usual.
The reason is likely because it’s Otis’ 8th birthday on Sunday and I’m building up to it.
I’ll be writing a big post about that – and him – on Friday, but this post continues the sentimental theme.
Except this has nothing to do with me and is just something I couldn’t help be touched by.
A story of love and loss.
Friendship and light at moments of loneliness and darkness.
No, it’s not the storyline for a documentary.
It’s not even about humans.
But it is real. And I do love it. Especially as the world feels more divided and broken than I’ve ever experienced it and so any sign of genuine emotion and love goes a long way.
Have a read of this … though the real impact comes in the form of the photographs.
Those beautiful, gentle, loving photos.
Especially the one with the ‘wing’ around the other.
Who knew that we could all do with being a bit more penguin!
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand, Content, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Digital, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Entertainment, Happiness, Honesty, Imagination, Inclusion, Innovation, Insight, Long Copy, Love, Marketing, New Zealand, Perspective, Purpose, Relevance, Research, Resonance, Sentimentality, Truth
As many of you know, I’m quite the emotional guy.
[OK, I get it … that’s an understatement. Let’s leave it there]
But while this can sometimes result in me having an ‘Elton John’ moment [™ Elton John] I have always been a huge believer in the value and importance of empathy.
Part of this is because my Mum always told me to be interested in what others are interested in, but as I got more and more into my planning career, I realised that if you can truly understand the feelings and emotions someone is experiencing, it enables you to make work that others will also feel and resonate with.
A perfect example was this work we did ages ago for Nike in China.
It had already been decided the idea for the global 2012 Olympics Campaign was going to be Greatness. The problem was that when we spoke to kids all over China, they didn’t feel they were ever able to refer to themselves as great.
They felt that was a term saved for the chosen few. The people who the government deemed as having done things that raised the entire nations profile and success.
Of course they didn’t articulate it like this … we got there by spending time with them and slowly pulling away the layers of codes and confusion so we could understand what they wanted to say rather than what was being said.
Or said another way, we wanted to understand rather than get answers.
Now I am not denying it took a while … and I also accept being an Olympic campaign, we had the time and the money to do things right. But the thing is this rigour was worth it … because not only did it turn into an incredible campaign … not only did it become China’s most successful ever campaign … it helped changed attitudes towards what greatness is and allowed millions of kids to feel they could feel valued and valuable.
This is the work.
The reason I say this is because for the past few months, I’ve been working with The University of Auckland’s Creative Thinking Project in exploring new ways to use creativity to engage and deeply resonate with audiences.
Thanks to the work of Sir Richard Faull, Faculty of Medical and Health Sciences at The University of Auckland and Nuala Gregory, a fellow of the National Institute of Creative Arts and Industries – also at The University of Auckland – we have explored and experimented with a whole host of different creative formats to identify which one can create the best conditions for connection.
The findings have been astounding.
While the vast majority of communication spend goes towards television, digital and outdoor advertising … none of these had the same impact on audiences as the power of the poem.
In fact, when poems were used as the content for television, digital and outdoor, the increase in engagement went up on average 13.3%.
THIRTEEN!
OK, I know that may not sound a lot on first impression, but when you consider last year, companies spent SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIVE BILLION DOLLARS GLOBALLY on advertising … if this can improve connection to potential audiences by 13%, then it has huge commercial opportunity.
[And by that, I mean for brands, creativity and the University of Auckland]
Now I suppose on one level, none of this should be a surprise.
Rap is a kind of poetry.
A way to communicate that’s felt as well as heard.
But while we have started to explore this, our focus has been on poetry and the results, as I detailed above, have been fascinating.
Sir Richard believes this may be heavily influenced by the challenges the World has faced over the past few years. Where the feeling of isolation of helplessness has created an yearning for any sort of emotional connection. And while TV may have their manifestos, they often come over as contrived … whereas poems have a fragility to them that enables them to better resonate and connect to audiences.
For example … of the literally thousands of poems tested, this was one that achieved one of the highest scores, despite being from an anonymous author.
Now this mountain I must climb
Feels like the world upon my shoulders
But through the clouds I see love shine
It keeps me warm as life grows colder
While it is deliberately ambiguous, it appeared to connect to audiences as they saw it as capturing the struggles they felt in life. Where there is still an expectation for progress and yet the conditions people find themselves having to deal with are increasingly harsh and difficult.
Other poems that resonated – and follow a similar theme to the previous example, except it is by contemporary poet, Ocean Vuong – include this:
And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain
I know that you can love me
When there’s no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We can still find a way
As well as a piece from his work entitled ‘Life’, which has a much darker theme:
Loneliness is my hiding place
Breast feeding my self
What more can I say?
I have swallowed the bitter pill
We are still working on the research but have set up an instagram that lists the poems that have tested particularly well.
I would love it if you could visit the page and let me know how the poems affect you. If they do.
Now I appreciate this leaves me open to all sorts of ridicule.
And I assure you that I am not trying to suggest poems are the future of effective advertising.
This is simply a project to see if there are techniques that allow us to better connect emotionally to audiences without necessarily needing to spend months in the field meeting endless people.
While I am part of this work, it is ultimately the property of Auckland University.
Fortunately, they have said I can promote the work because they would love to have more respondents take part. So if you are interested in discovering more – and helping see where this creative adventure could lead, can I ask you to sign up here.
That said, I would recommend you do it today … because studies have found April 1st is the optimal day to get people to sign up to ‘research’ that is actually just some 80’s song lyrics from Foreigner, Guns n’ Roses and Queen.
Have a great day. I know I will.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Apathy, Authenticity, Comment, Content, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Gaming, Insight, Love, Planners, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Respect, Sentimentality
When I was young, I was introduced to a whole host of iconic TV characters.
Six Million Dollar Man.
Wonder Woman.
Buck Rogers.
Superman.
The Incredible Hulk.
Of course there were more, lots more – from cartoons to local kids TV – but the one’s from America just seemed to be more amazing.
Part of this was probably the production value of the shows, but it was also the imagination they triggered and celebrated in me.
It was so much more than just entertainment, it challenged, encouraged and introduced me to a whole new way to look and see the possibilities of the World.
These characters continue to hold a lot of sentimentality with me, because despite being over 40 years ago, they were – in many ways – characters that defined my generation.
They were OUR shows, even when they were a remake of something that went before.
I say this because when I look at Otis, the characters from his shows are so different.
For a start, so many of them are born through Youtube.
Plus there’s also a huge amount from games, like Roblox or Minecraft.
But the relationships are similar to the ones I had with the Incredible Hulk etc.
And that’s because they’re his characters.
They are badges of his generation.
He connects to people who share the same love and knowledge.
Which is a good reminder that in a world where we are continually going on about new possibilities, new opportunities and new technologies … the forces that make so many of them successful and valuable are the same things as they’ve always been.
Emotion.
Of course we should know this.
Of course this should be obvious.
But I don’t know if we do.
I read so much these days that seems to be focused on efficiencies, effectiveness, experience or eco-systems … and while they’re all important and have a role to play … they aren’t the reason people connect so deeply, they’re just tools to help make it happen.
In our quest to be seen as innovative, we’re re-making the wheel over and over again except it’s not as simple. Or as effective. Or as powerful.
Because we’re so desperate to look like we’ve done something new, we walk away from the things that can make something valuable.
Beyond price.
Beyond status.
Beyond superficial.
Somewhere along the line, we’ve forgotten the value of emotion.
We talk about it. We describe it. We even attempt to show it.
But instead, we have reduced it to a set of ‘research group approved’ actions and behaviours.
A set of research group approved actions and behaviours that are more focused on telling people what we want them to think about rather than to feel.
A set of research group approved actions and behaviours that are designed to minimise the potential of alienating someone rather than making it mean everything to them.
How fucking depressing.
More than that, how fucking laughable.
Because the holy grail for all these brands is to encourage loyalty beyond reason.
Where people choose you over countless competitors.
Where they will queue for hours to stand a chance to have a moment in your company.
Where people will willingly wear a t-shirt with your name emblazoned on it.
Where people will do this over and over again, regardless of time, money or location.
For all the money, research and ‘marketing guru tactics’ so many brands adopt these days … they still don’t come anywhere close to the impact bands, gaming characters and old 1970’s TV shows have on people.
And there’s one simple reason for it.
You don’t make people care talking about them, you do it by being for them.
Not in terms of ‘removing friction to purchase’.
Or telling them you really, really care about them.
Or saying you’re committed to their progress and success.
Or you want them to get the best value deal they can get.
But by recognising who they are, not who you want them to be.
And then talking to them that reflects that.
The good, bad, weird, strange, complex, scary, hopeful, uncomfortable.
It’s not hard.
And yet it seems to be the hardest thing in the World.
Which is mad, given a man painted green and a shitty rubbery mask was able to do it and 40+ years later, can still ignite more feelings of love and loyalty from me than 98.99999% of all brands with their research and marketing guru processes.
Filed under: America, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, China, Chinese Culture, Comment, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Hong Kong, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents, Paul, Relationships, Rosie, Sentimentality, Shanghai, Singapore
Today would be my Dad’s 82nd birthday.
That means he’s been gone 22 years.
In a few years, I will have lived longer without him in my life than in it.
Yes, I know that he is still in my life, but I just find that fact so hard to deal with.
I live in fear that one day, I will only think of him when a significant date occurs.
That he will become a figure of my past, rather than my present.
Of course I don’t believe that will really happen, but to be coming up to the point where I will have spent more of my life without him in it, is really tough to take.
What’s worse is he died just as my life was getting started.
The only thing he knew – mainly because he and Mum pushed me to continue with my plans, despite his stroke – was that I moved to Australia.
While both my parents missed me so much, they were adamant I had to go.
I had planned it for a long time.
They saw it as an opportunity and an adventure for me.
And they also – and rightfully – knew that if I didn’t go, I’d never go.
Of course there was nothing wrong with where I was.
I loved – and continue to love – Nottingham. But both my parents knew the possibilities for me outside of my home city were probably bigger than were in it, and they just wanted me to have a chance of exploring what it could – regardless what turned out.
That’s unconditional love.
A level of support and encouragement that – now I am a father – takes my breath away.
Oh the things I wish I could talk to my Dad about.
The adventures – good and stupid – I’d love to discuss with him.
I think he would be proud. He might raise his eyebrows at a few things, but I think he would be happy with the choices and decisions I’ve made.
He would love to meet Jill.
He would be delighted to meet Otis.
He would be thrilled to know my friendship with Paul is still rock solid.
He may even be happy to meet Rosie – the most well travelled cat in the universe – despite never really liking cats.
And when I was to tell him that journey to Australia led to me living in countless other countries – including Shanghai – he would be so happy.
He always found China fascinating.
Part of it was because back then, China was still an unknown quantity.
A huge place that was kind-of invisible to the World.
For me to have lived there … had for his grandson to be born there … would be a topic of conversation for years.
And I would love it.
Watching his eyes twinkle with curiosity.
Watching his brow wrinkle as he processed my responses.
Watching his smile as he held Otis and said, “Ni Hao” as if a local.
Oh Dad, I wish you were here.
What I’d give for one more conversation, one more hug.
What happened that night in Hong Kong is still etched in my heart … but I want more.
I’m greedy, but you were gone too soon.
For you, for Mum and for me.
Happy 82nd birthday Dad, I know none of us believed in God, but I do hope one day we can have that conversation.
Love you.
Give Mum a big kiss from me too.
Rx
