To Influence or Engage? That is the Question.

Marketers today seem obsessed with “social influencers”. This relatively new phenomenon is pulling focus (both financial and strategic) at what appears to be an alarming rate. Conversations abound as to who the hottest, newest influencer is and how much it will cost to get them to plug your brand. Even the fashion show front row is being overrun by these latest marketing darlings, and they are sitting alongside members of the media and the popular culture whose true influence runs longer than just the number of people who follow their tweets.

The hype of “influence” has pervaded even the trade press from both an editorial and advertorial perspective. The latest New York Fashion Week special edition of WWD included a well camouflaged ad that followed the “behind-the-scenes” adventure of one top blogger, which was nothing more than a justification of the blogging industry wrapped within a sales pitch for the Samsung GS8.

The conversations around the amount of influence that these “influencers” truly hold are becoming more prevalent. A recent article published in the Robin Report by Dana Wood, notes that the question of review legitimacy of the macro-influencers has created a new demand for micro-influencers. Glossier founder and CEO Emily Weiss defines micro-influencers as individuals with as few as 500 social media followers while others would define micro-influencers at a higher range of 10,000 to 100,000 followers. The Robin Report article goes on to even debunk the myth that bigger is better as data shows that micro-influencers get a higher percentage of likes to their posts, indicating that while their reach may be smaller, their connection is greater.

But consumers aren’t stupid. Whether micro or macro, influencers are increasingly viewed with distrust as consumers know that most of their opinions are being paid for. The micro-influencers may be flying a little more under the radar screen (and I will admit that there are probably a greater proportion of unpaid ambassadors amongst the micro universe), but as regulations continue to evolve, the consumer will be more able to identify a paid shill when one appears.

So, what is a marketer to do? Simple. Refocus on making your consumer your brand ambassador by giving them a product and experience that they want to share in an authentic manner.

Consider the following stats that have been pulled from a variety of sources around the web:

  • 88% of consumers trust user reviews as much as personal recommendations

  • 72% of consumers act only after reading a positive user review

  • Over half of young people aged 18 to 34 say they trust online user reviews more than the opinions of friends and family

  • Ratings on reliability, expertise, and professionalism remain the most important drivers

On the other hand:

  • Reviews from “experts” and celebrity endorsements are less trusted than online user reviews

The mistake being made today is that brands are trying to borrow credibility from the wrong source. Instead of giving the consumer something to tout, brands are creating ambassadors who cannot provide an honest, educated opinion. Instead of creating meaningful and differentiating consumer experiences, brands are creating non-linear experiences for people who “seem” to have a broad reach. Instead of focusing on authenticity, brands are making connections with temporal pillars whose influence is as quick to disappear as it was to be established in the first place.

The solution is to engage your consumer and let their influence lead the way.

High Street--RIP?

Is the High Street dead?  It’s not only a question on many brands’ and retailers’ minds, but it was the focus of a recent panel in London hosted by Draper’s on which I was asked to participate.  Without trying to be flip or provocative for provocation sake, my answer was, and is, “yes”.  But that is not necessarily a bad thing. 

To understand my argument, we need to start with what the High Street was and what it has come to represent.  According to Wikipedia, the High Street refers to:

“the primary business street of towns or cities…it implies the focal point for business, especially shops and street stalls (if any) in town and city centers. As a generic shorthand, it may be used to denote more precise concepts such as the urban retail sector.”

The High Street used to be a physical destination—a place where a shopper could go to fulfill most, if not all, of their shopping needs and desires.  But the modern definition of the High Street now mostly refers to the large department stores and multinational verticals that occupy what was referred to as the High Street.  It is this evolved definition, the one dominated by wholesalers and fast fashion, that I most directly refer to when I say that the High Street is dead.  I don’t know why brands and retailers find this declaration so shocking when it is us, brands and retailers, that are responsible for the demise of the High Street.

Let me explain why I place the blame on the very people who are bemoaning the disappearance of the High Street.  Originally, retailers and brands looked to create a profitable relationship with consumers based on understanding the local shopper.  Success was based on making shopping destination-worthy by building loyalty and by being a member of the community that contributed back.  That was the joy of being a private enterprise.  But as brands and retailers became public entities with boards and stockholders to appease, the notion of loyalty and community got shoved aside in favor of increased revenue.

The first step on the road to obsessive continued growth was to expand distribution at the cost of localization.  Retailers and brands looked to drive penetration at the cost of satisfaction and to drive efficiency by offering as many of the same product in the highest numbers of places at once.  Retailers and brands opened more doors on more high streets and shoved more inventory into current doors.  Instead of curated product presentations, the notion of “pile it high and let it fly” in as many doors as possible came into practice.  We commoditized our own product and made shopping less joyful, all at the same time.  Shopping was no longer a destination but an errand.

The second step was the obvious next one.  As inventory piled up and as pushing points of distribution became less effective or opportune, brands and retailers found that they had to rely on other means to grow dollar volume.  With product becoming less special, the ability to command premium pricing became impossible.  Commodity product had to be priced accordingly, if only based on the simple law of supply and demand.  Product was now not only commoditized, it was devalued.  Ubiquity became our guiding principle.   

And finally, when penetration and promotion was pushed as far as they could be, the only way to keep delivering growth was to reduce expenses.  At first expenses were cut along the fringes, with brands and retailers hoping that the customer wouldn’t notice the wear and tear on physical stores.  But then the need to cut further led to a reduction in service.  It was at this point, that the High Street was put on life support.  Instead of shopping being about an emotional relationship and a journey of discovery, shopping had become purely transactional—get the customer in and out as quickly as possible (with as little sales help as possible), leaving behind as much of their wallet before they exited the store.

It’s no surprise that e-commerce became such an engine of growth.  We taught the consumer that transactional shopping was the best kind of shopping.  We taught them to forget experience and focus on convenience and price.  Not surprisingly the customer migrated accordingly because ecommerce offered the most in terms of access to product and lowest prices.  For when faced with commoditized and devalued product delivered with a lack of service and care, why would any consumer make a dedicated physical trip to the High Street when they could get the same experience at home?

The High Street as we once knew it has been dealt a death blow and, just like the Ladies’ Mile in New York City, it will cease to exist.

That doesn’t mean that brick and mortar retail is dead.  It just means that the model that has come into being, where big box department stores and anonymous vertical cheap fashion dominate, has become outmoded.  Yet, there is hope for bricks and mortar, but we will need to change our focus from protecting the high street to protecting retail.  The hope for retailing will come from two specific shifts.  

To start with, retailers need to reclaim the mentality and attitude of the independent retailers that still exist.  For example, in Europe, where the notion of a traditional high street is less developed, the independent retailer is still alive and, in some instances, well.  

Why?  

The answer is simple and two-fold.  Firstly, the local independent retailer has kept shopping about discovery and not just volume.  The true independents (and even concept stores like Story and Snowfield’s) are based around the idea of constant exploration through continual change.  They aren’t looking to comp sales in a singular product or department, they are looking at becoming a place where consumers can find inspiration and, through inspiration, find joy.  We wrongly assume that is only the younger generations who value “experience”, but all human beings yearn for it.  Millennials may more directly express a desire for it because they came of age in a time when the in-person experience was being devalued.  But we all want to be surprised and delighted.

The second place where the independents have gotten it right is bringing service back into the equation. Independents are invested in staffing their stores with knowledgeable salesclerks who can talk about product and make recommendations based on what is right for the customer and not what is simply most profitable.  In this way, bricks can be the most efficient way to obtain (and retain) new consumers and convert them to regular shoppers, whether that repeat purchase is done in the real or virtual world.  Multiple studies have shown that it is far cheaper to acquire customers through a physical space rather than a digital one.

This is what brands like Warby Parker realized.  They came to understand that e-commerce was a means to an end, but that nothing could actually replace human interaction and the opportunity to touch and feel.  The brick and mortar Warby Parkers were even fashioned to look like an independent with all the services one would expect from a neighborhood optician.  Warby Parker specifically avoided the self-service mentality of a Sunglass Hut.  They personalized the experience, created stories around their glasses and made it easy for a consumer to walk out looking (and seeing) great.

The other change that could be the saving grace for brick and mortar retail is the customer themselves. We are starting to see a shift in behavior amongst Generation Z.  While this generation of consumers (born between the mid-Nineties and the late Aughts) is the most digitally native of all generations, a recent study by Bloomberg showed an important change in the way this customer shops.  Bloomberg reported that around 95% of Gen Z’s visited a physical shopping center in a three-month period in 2019 versus 75% of Millennials and 58% of Gen Xers.  Moreover, a recent National Retail Federation survey found that physical stores with the preferred purchasing channels for consumers ages 13 to 21.  If this trend holds, we are looking at a potential watershed moment in retail.

Why is this happening?

I think that most human behavior is cyclical and no different than the way hemlines rise and fall, the attitude towards bricks is changing.  Perhaps it’s because the younger consumer is tired of constantly being pushed to do more in the time that they have (the number of hours that children are engaged in organized extracurriculars has skyrocketed in the last decade) or like most previous generations, the younger consumer is purposefully casting aside what their elders valued (just look at how uncool the younger generation sees Facebook as) in an attempt to cast the world in their own light.  I am not sure that the answer to why the change is happening is important.  But the change is important.  

But this shift, while maybe saving the concepts of bricks, will come too late for the High Street.  The younger shopper has never known the High Street to be a source of discovery and inspiration.  They prefer the local artisan, or the retailer/brand who is supporting the causes that they support.  Gen Z expects a great experience, they desire access to merchandise that is special and they require a new way to try and share products.  At this point the dinosaurs of the High Street can simply not pivot fast enough while the online brands, who grew up with change as a foundational element to their business, can create the right kind of bricks experience.

For Ben Sherman, we are retooling our business to address all that.  Having the opportunity to oversee the global business has been an exciting professional experience as my team and I have all learned to reframe the question from “why?” to “why not?”  We have evaluated our product mix and ensured that we are creating product that meets a consumer need for discovery and not a distribution need for volume.  We have looked at our assortment and designs from a way to is intended to inspire our consumer and not simply to replicate success.  We have thought about vertical retail as a place that fosters community first, knowing that if a consumer feels welcomed, they will buy.  And we have asked ourselves how we can support what our consumers feel passionate about—whether that’s sustainability or music or the move to gender inclusive products—not because we want to chase trends but because the Ben Sherman brand has always been about inclusive passion. 

Our approach for Ben Sherman is very much borne out of the philosophy that Marquee Brands has for its portfolio of brands.  We’ll ensure that Ben Sherman will have continued success by delivering relevant product and creating retail experiences that serve the needs and interest of our consumers, not by bending the consumers to our will.  We’ll respect the founding message of the Ben Sherman brand on a macro level, while considering how to make that message appeal on a global level.  And we’ll never trade on the loyalty our consumers have shown over five decades.  Instead, we will look at how to deepen that loyalty and turn all of our consumers into brand ambassadors regardless of where they shop.

Protecting the High Street business for the sake of saving the High Street is a losing proposition.  Brands and retailers need to let go of what used to be familiar and comfortable and challenge themselves with innovative evolution.  There is no lack of opportunity for connecting with consumers and, with more than two thirds of apparel purchases still being done in the physical world, there is money to be had, relationships to be built and loyalty to be mined.  However, there are two things that are certain.  First, business won’t be done on the traditional High Street and the sooner we accept that the better.  Second, every brand and every retailer must once again embrace the importance of building an emotional connection with consumers every time they walk through our doors and, especially, every time they make a purchase.  The king is dead, long live the new king.

How Do You Measure the Effectiveness of a Story?

Every good marketer and every good brand steward know the importance of bringing together three key elements—meaningful brands, compelling products and inspired storytelling.  We bring these three things together to create memorable experiences that drive consumer engagement.  While the value of brands can be quantified and sale of products can be tracked, how do we measure what “inspired storytelling” is and how do we determine its effectiveness?  Particularly now.  There has been a spate of new “stories” being put out all the time in the COVID era with people and brands getting more and more creative, willing to be more experimental in the kinds of storytelling that is disseminated.

Eventually, someone is going to ask the question (because someone always wants to measure cost versus return) about the return on investment of all of these stories.  Did we drive business and consumer engagement, or did we merely fill dead air?  Are people consuming our content because it is meaningful or because it is there?  Which dollar and which effort was “effective”? In many ways, these are the very question that have plagued marketers for years when asked to justify their advertising budgets.

As we are going to be faced to do more with fewer dollars, the tenor of these questions will continue to tip towards understanding which dollar got which sale.  But this is a short-sighted approach to storytelling and, if we aren’t careful, will create potential short-term wins while creating longer term disengagement with the very consumers upon whom we are reliant.  Long term disengagement will be the curse of any return to business as we know.

Before we can start to even debate a return on investment (ROI) to storytelling, it becomes important to understand that story-telling is a multi-faceted discipline that needs to flex and adapt depending on the brand, the consumer and the current social context within which we are trying to influence behavior.  For the sake of argument, lets characterize the idea of storytelling as centering around one of three styles each with its own objective:

·       Entertain

·       Educate

·       Elicit

One cannot calculate ROI without first understanding, and more importantly appreciating, the primary objective and only then assigning the appropriate key performance indicator (KPI).

The first style of storytelling may seem to be the most obvious and the “fuzziest”, but it serves as the foundation for every other kind of story.  It’s hard not to imagine that the first stories told around the fire were meant to entertain and pass the long nights when television and the internet were not even a spark in someone’s imagination.  The printing press, a true innovation in its day, codified stories and turned them from ever changing oral traditions to fixed narratives that were passed on from generation to generation.  Authors like William Thackeray and his serialized novel  Vanity Fair capitalized on the average person’s desire to be entertained as a way of pulling oneself out of the everyday doldrums.  While there is without a doubt allegorical themes underlying Thackeray’s novel, most of the British reading public consumed it like a soap opera, eagerly awaiting the next chapter to learn what the main character had gotten up to since the last encounter.

Despite its objective as entertainment, this first type of storytelling is meaningful in its ability to create a world and experience within which the reader can immerse themselves.  An emotional connection is created that, when managed properly, can lead to its own level on of financial success and quantitative measurement.  But at its heart, this level of storytelling is foundational and needs to be measured as such.  The modern-day equivalent would be something like our Superbowl Commercials that are anticipated, judged and talked about for weeks after they first appear.  It would be impossible to justify a $5.6M spend if one were to try and assign a direct correlative value based on products sold or leads generated, but the emotional connection and the ability to create a branded entertainment experience helps set the ground for the next two styles of storytelling, and enables them to be more effective against their own objective.

The second style of storytelling is more didactic in origin, although often cloaked within a guise of entertainment.  Aesop’s Fables or Grimm’s Fairy Tales are perfect examples of this style of storytelling.  More so than arguably Thackeray’s novel, these stories start with a specific aim to teach a specific lesson and, depending on the intended audience, the level of metaphor is either more or less subtle.  Even the youngest child can understand the meaning behind the story of the boy who cried wolf—tell a fib too often and you run the risk of losing everything, including potentially your own life.

While entertaining in a way, the success of this kind of story is whether the message has been internalized and effects measurable change.  Have fewer sheep been lost due to a reduction in lies told? A lot of packaged goods advertising is based on this model.  By showing consumers that one product is better than another on a tested premise, often couched within an entertaining scenario, advertisers are hoping that their story provokes a level of intellectual consideration.  Yes, this particular brand of detergent provides moments of familial harmony and exploration, but only because it cleans dirt better than its competitor.  It is imminently possible to quantitatively measure the success of this kind of storytelling through tracking research—one can actually measure the number of people who believe the premise being provided.  And while the indirect correlation is to purchase, what really should be measured is consideration—is a consumer more likely to purchase a product because the “education” they received predisposed them in that direction?

Lastly, there are the stories that are designed to elicit specific behavior.  JD Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy is a perfect example of this kind of story.  While entertaining and educational, Vance’s memoir is intended (among other things) to raise questions about the current status of welfare programs and the unintended consequences these programs have of keeping down the very people they are meant to help.  Vance is, in essence, asking us to question our own beliefs on the subject and challenge what we think we know.  He hopes to elicit intellectual curiosity and eventually policy change.

Years back, advertising that explicitly used this kind of storytelling were said to be “call to action” advertisements—there was something within the story (often times a kind or price promotion) that was intended to prompt immediate action.  “Call now!” these ads would shout, and consumers would.  This was the start to the home shopping networks that have become so popular.

Today, influencers and social media have brought this kind of storytelling to the forefront.  It is possible to directly measure the correlation between a story being heard and a product being sold since everything is connected digitally.  Of all the styles of storytelling, it’s this third type that board members like the most because of the seemingly easy and direct way of measuring a return on advertising spend.  So, it’s no surprise that brands are being pressured to shift advertising dollars predominantly, or sometimes exclusively, to this kind of storytelling.  Marketers are being told, “if you can measure the effectiveness of each dollar sold, then just spend more dollars in this area and reap greater reward!”

There are two problems with this mode of thought.  First, without an emotional connection or an understanding of what a brand stands for, the ability to drive any kind of loyalty and engender any kind of brand advocacy is impossible.  We have all fell victims to ads that look good on Instagram only to be disappointed by the product that arrives.  We realize that product without quality and without a premise that we can attach ourselves to is disposable product.  And disposable product is, in the end, low in value.  Building decades of stories allows for an emotional connection to go from awareness to consideration to purchase in a way that leads to word of mouth recommendation.  Any student of marketing will tell you that word of mouth marketing is the most productive.

But the second problem with focusing on only telling stories that are measurable in end results is that end results are forever variable.  Our ability to measure success is based on current consumer behavior and technological interface and both of these are highly susceptible to change.  Brands have a seeming love for Instagram because of its metrics, its ability to tie to shopping and the consumer data that the link to Facebook provides.  However, privacy laws and consumer willingness to live their lives as open books will change.  Even our ability to gauge Instagram “engagement” is disappearing.  And if all we do is think about storytelling with measurable elicited behavior, we will lose the ability to entertain and educate.

It’s important to understand the tension between these forms of storytelling and to become more diligent in understanding the objective behind each story told and thus the appropriate way to measure “success”.  We need to value the importance of entertaining but know that awareness and engagement can’t alone drive sales.  We need to value the importance of education but know that education can only spur on consideration.  And we need to value the direct impact that call to action storytelling can have on the bottom line if a consumer cares about the brand.  But what we truly need to value is how all the stories told by meaningful brands, supported by compelling consumer centric products, can lead to the kind of memorable experiences that create value both above and below the line.  The same is true in the coming post COVID world, perhaps even more so, as it was before.

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-do-you-measure-effectiveness-story-talbot-logan/