Whaddaya mean it's wrong? It's a poll!

There's been strong reaction to radio Triple J's Hottest 100 of All Time, as blogged about here previously.

That reaction hasn't been uniformly critical. In fact, there's been a considerable backlash, much of it based on the erroneous belief that if a poll is large enough - and this one had 500,000 entries - it must be right.

Wrong.

Any poll is only ever as good as the sample, the questions asked and how the results are gathered and analysed.

And the findings of this one don't have what researchers call 'face validity'. The problem isn't with any of the individual songs on the final list - each no doubt has its proponents. It's the big picture statistics that don't lie. When even Triple J announcers and fans are surprised and dismayed that not one of the supposed 100 greatest songs of all time is by a female artist, it suggests some pretty significant errors.

"Errors?!!" I hear you say. "But it can't be wrong - it's a poll. It's about people's opinions, so it must be right!"

People's opinions are never wrong. Absolutely never. But opinion polls often have errors that render their findings wrong. I'm using the word "error" here in the sense used by researchers and statisticians to describe problems in research design, analysis and interpretation. Let me explain.

If we accept that a TRUE Hottest 100 songs of all time exists out there in the minds of Triple J listeners, then the idea of the poll is - within practical limitations - to capture that collective mindset with an acceptable level of accuracy.

"Error" refers to any problem with the methodology that could contribute to the end result of the poll not being a reasonable reflection of what's actually in the collective mindset of our population of interest.

First and foremost is "sampling error". In any voluntary poll, the findings are only representative of those who actually vote. That naturally means that people who are particularly passionate about the cause (in this case, a particular song or artist) will vote. In other words, they aren't representative of the whole population - statisticians call this a biased sample. But people who didn't vote can't complain, as they only have themselves to blame.

In any case, what we have read about the scale of the Triple J poll (some 500,000 votes) and the spread of age and gender means you'd be hard-pressed to blame sampling error for the complete absence of female artists in the Hottest 100. So it's back to the methodology...

The next type of error is to do with the survey itself. We know what we were looking to find, but did we ask the right questions?

Triple J could have asked everyone who voted to nominate his or her top 100 songs in order, and then counted every vote and applied some kind of weighting based on that order.

But that's not what happened. In fact, Triple J asked listeners to nominate only their top 10 greatest songs of all time. You can well appreciate why Triple J would do this for practical reasons, but it introduces some significant sources of error.

Firstly, there's what I will call the Tenacious D effect. The instructions and the task are likely to have suggested to many people (consciously or unconsciously) that if they had to choose the 10 "greatest songs in the world" then these must be truly "awesome" songs.

Not surprisingly, the final list of the Hottest 100 was heavy on anthemic, epic, deep and meaningful power ballads - the kind of things that get played at funerals (yes, even Heath Ledger's). There are very few "feel good" dancefloor-fillers. And it appears to have helped a song considerably if the artist died in tragic circumstances.

Secondly, compiling a Top 100 out of thousands of 10-song samples introduces a very significant statistical problem. What you end up with is a sampling distribution of people's Top 10s, and NOT a true list of the Hottest 100. And that produces very unrealistic results, as per the following example - the figures are made up, but they illustrate the problem.

Let's put the Tenacious D effect aside for now and assume we asked a large group of people to list their Top 100 songs in order.

10% said Aretha Franklin's "Respect" was one of the 100 greatest songs of all time, and 0.5% of people had it in their Top 10

50% of people agreed that Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" is one of the 100 greatest songs of all time, and 10% of people had it in their Top 10

Around a third of our sample said they'd never even heard of "Chop Suey" by System of a Down but 5% said it was one of the 100 greatest songs of all time and half of those (2.5%) had it in their Top 10.

So now we compile our list.

If we use all the votes to compile the Top 100, then Nirvana ranks above Aretha, with System of a Down lower down the list.

But when we only count people's Top 10s, Nirvana still - rightly - ranks high in the Hottest 100 and System of a Down makes it in towards the bottom but Aretha Franklin doesn't show up at all.

Without having access to any of the specific figures from the Triple J poll, the number of songs in the final Hottest 100 that could be considered relatively obscure - even for a Triple J audience - strongly suggests that these kind of survey and statistical errors are to blame for the lack of diversity that has bothered so many people.

How can Triple J design a poll that does a better job of finding the TRUE Hottest 100 of all time? Well, talk to some market researchers and statisticians to begin with.

Who says online publishing leads to a decline in standards? Fairfax does!

Every day we read (on the internet, of course) of another old and revered print newspaper in a US city being read the last rites. The old business model just doesn't work any more. Advertising has moved to the web, printing costs are exorbitant, etc. etc. Fair enough.

But you don't have to go far to see some of the negative implications of this. A daily glance at headlines, links and copy in the online versions of many newspapers - including the so-called "quality press" - illustrates how publishing processes and priorities have changed.

It seems likely that news organisations are replacing sub-editors - people who knew how to get words to work - with IT types whose skills lie elsewhere and who are tasked with getting the words they are given up on screen as quickly as possible.

Consider the recent reporting of the Tour de France by Fairfax cycling correspondent Rupert Guinness (pictured above). You may have seen Rupert in a succession of gaudy Hawaiian shirts serving as a guest commentator on SBS Television at the end of several stages of the race.

But Rupert's print work, as presented online, often looked as scruffy and unprofessional as his attire. This, from his report after Stage 14 to Besançon on 19 July, is just one of several howlers he produced over the 23 days of le Tour:

However, within minutes of the stage finishing, the sparks began to fly between the Columbia team for which Australian riders Michael Rogers and Mark Renshaw are signed with, and the rival Garmin team who has Australian Matt White as one of their sports directors and had one of their riders in the 12-man breakaway.

What the...?

Firstly, when did so-called journalists cease to be able to write grammatical and readable copy? Producing acceptable clean copy used to be one of the basic rules of journalism - if you were a sports type who couldn't write, then you had a ghost writer or a sub-editor to clean up your copy for publication.

Second, how can a reputable "quality" news organisation allow such amateurish material to be published... and, worse, to sit there, uncorrected, more than a week later (as I write this). Clearly no-one literate at Fairfax has actually read the story.

OK, perhaps Rupe was under some pressure to file quickly. But the Besançon stage was over by 2am Sydney time and the byline on the story says 6:28am - surely plenty of time for a professional like Rupert to file something half-decent and enough to allow a sub-editor to make some sense of his mess (and to call/email him back to say "clean up your act").

Grammar and spelling are critical for ease, clarity and accuracy of communication. They DO matter - online as well as in print.

How many of these belong in the REAL Hottest 100 of all time?

I compiled this list of 100 great songs from female artists and black artists. All of them appear on multiple online lists of "100 greatest songs..." (of all time, different genres, different decades, etc.). Sources include VH1, Billboard, Mojo magazine, Grammy winners.

It's just a starting point, but I defy anyone NOT to find at least a few songs here worthy of displacing some of the anthemic, epic, angry and emo white boy rock that dominated Triple J's list. (Note: Alphabetical order, not order of merit). Nominations and challenges welcome - it's all in the interests of diversity.

And let's face it - if Elton John's Tiny Dancer could get in, then nothing's off-limits!

(Sittin’On) The Dock of the Bay – Otis Redding
(You Make Me Feel Like a) Natural Woman – Carole King / Aretha Franklin
7 Seconds – Youssou N'dour and Neneh Cherry
A Change is Gonna Come – Sam Cooke
A Fairytale of New York – The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl
Ain’t No Mountain High Enough – Diana Ross
Ain't No Sunshine – Bill Withers
All I Wanna Do – Sheryl Crow
At Last – Etta James
Birthday – Sugarcubes
California Dreamin' – The Mamas & the Papas
Close to You – The Carpenters
Constant Craving – k. d. lang
Crazy – Gnarls Barkly
Crazy – Patsy Cline
Crazy in Love – Beyonce featuring Jay-Z
Crazy On You – Heart
Cult of Personality – Living Colour
Dancing in the Street – Martha and the Vandellas
Dancing Queen – ABBA
Don’t Speak – No Doubt
Don't Know Why – Norah Jones
Echo Beach – Martha And The Muffins
Fight the Power - Public Enemy
Finally – Ce Ce Peniston
Go Your Own Way – Fleetwood Mac
God Bless the Child – Billie Holiday
Gold Digger – Kanye West featuring Jamie Foxx
Got a Thing on My Mind – Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings
Groove is in the Heart – Deee-Lite
Heart of Glass – Blondie
I Can't Stand the Rain – Ann Peebles
I Got You (I Feel Good) – James Brown
I Heard It Through The Grapevine – Marvin Gaye
I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself – Dusty Springfield
I Will Survive – Gloria Gaynor
I’m Coming Out – Diana Ross
If I Ain’t Got You – Alicia Keys
If You Don't Know Me By Now – Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes
In the Midnight Hour – Wilson Pickett
Independent Women – Destiny’s Child
Into The Groove – Madonna
It’s Too Late – Carole King
Jolene – Dolly Parton
Lady Marmalade – Labelle
Le Freak – Chic
Let’s Stay Together – Al Green
Like a Virgin – Madonna
Linger – The Cranberries
Living For the City – Stevie Wonder
Love and Happiness – Al Green
Love is a Battlefield – Pat Benatar
Love Rears its Ugly Head – Living Colour
Many Rivers to Cross – Jimmy Cliff
Me and Bobby McGee – Janis Joplin
Midnight Train to Georgia – Gladys Knight & The Pips
My Immortal – Evanescence
No One – Alicia Keys
Nothing Compares 2 U – Sinead O'Connor
Our Lips Are Sealed – The Go-Go's
Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone – The Temptations
Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag – James Brown
Protection – Massive Attack with Tracy Thorn
Push It – Salt ‘N’ Pepa
Ray of Light – Madonna
Real Love – Mary J. Blige
Respect Yourself – The Staple Singers
River Deep, Mountain High – Ike and Tina Turner
Run-D.M.C. – Walk This Way
Say My Name – Destiny’s Child
Somebody to Love – Jefferson Airplane
Something to Talk About – Bonnie Raitt
Sour Times – Portishead
Stand By Me – Ben E. King
Stop! In The Name Of Love – The Supremes
Strange Fruit – Billie Holiday
Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) – Eurythmics
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face – Roberta Flack
The Look of Love – Dusty Springfield
The Message – Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five
The Power – SNAP!
The Tracks of My Tears – Smokey Robinson & the Miracles
Time After Time – Cyndi Lauper
To Be Young, Gifted & Black – Nina Simone
Venus As A Boy – Bjork
Vogue – Madonna
Walk Like an Egyptian – The Bangles
Walk on By – Dionne Warwick
Waterfalls – TLC
We Are Family – Sister Sledge
What’s Going On – Marvin Gaye
When a Man Loves a Woman – Percy Sledge
When Doves Cry – Prince
Where Did Our Love Go? – The Supremes
White Rabbit – Jefferson Airplane
Woodstock – Joni Mitchell
Wuthering Heights – Kate Bush
You Keep Me Hangin’ On – The Supremes
You Oughta Know – Alanis Morissette
Zombie – The Cranberries

"Hottest 100" very uncool for Triple J's brand

Yesterday, the ABC's national youth radio network Triple J revealed the final results of its listener poll of the Hottest 100 (songs/records) of All Time.

The Hottest 100 brand has become extremely important for Triple J since the poll began in the late 1980s. The annual Hottest 100 CD compilations, which began in 1993, sell by the hundreds of thousands. The annual listener poll for the year's best releases and the accompanying CD and events are a central and vital part of the station's promotion and merchandising.

But the results of this year's poll make disturbing reading for Triple J management and its ultimate masters higher up in the ABC and the Federal Government.

The concern won't be about any individual song or artist - whether a particular song is worthy of inclusion in the best 100 of all time will always be subject to personal taste and passing fads, and will be a subject for robust and enjoyable debate.

But it's the overall picture painted by some basic stats from the Hottest 100 that should have Triple J management worried.

Firstly, only five black artists or acts are represented in the entire Top 100: Michael Jackson (whose recent untimely death no doubt gave him a boost in the poll), Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, Stevie Wonder and (maybe) English band Bloc Party (fronted by a man born in the UK to Nigerian parents).

It is inconceivable that any reasonable poll of the "Hottest 100 songs of all time" could so glaringly exclude any and all black artists and music since 1982. This is especially disturbing when one considers how culturally important, if not dominant, essentially black musical forms like soul, funk, hip-hop and R&B have been in Western popular music since the 1960s. Triple J (in)famously began its national broadcasts in 1989 by being the only radio station in the world to play the song "F@#* Tha Police" by NWA (Niggaz With Attitude). Yet there is not a single black hip-hop act in this Hottest 100.

However, far more glaring than the relative lack of black artists is the total absence of female artists.

At best, I can see two songs that even feature female voices - Teardrop by Massive Attack (with "vocals by Elizabeth Fraser", i.e. not a full artist credit) and vocals by Kim Deal on the Pixies' Where is My Mind.

Again, it is utterly inconceivable that any list of the 100 greatest songs of all time could totally exclude female artists.

I know Triple J's own playlist and announcers don't reflect this shocking lack of diversity, and I'm not suggesting an editorial hand at work here. But if you do as I did and Google "greatest 100 songs" (of all time, by genre, by decade, etc.), you'll find all kinds of takes on this - polls, subjective lists, critics' choices. Yet you won't find a single list that completely excludes females and all but the most white-acceptable performers of colour. Indeed, from just some of these lists, and in the space of an hour or two, I easily compiled this list of songs by black and female artists.

Some people - including Triple J on-air personnel - have defended the Hottest 100 over the last 24 hours using what I call "the Logies excuse", i.e. that it's a popularity contest and it's not about merit.

Problem is, Triple J has successfully leveraged its listeners' musical tastes for years in the form of the Hottest 100 brand. And half a million votes sounds like great level of audience engagement. But previous annual polls and compilations have never reflected such an overall narrowness of musical style and audience appeal.

The top 20 especially was dominated by anthemic, epic, heavy, "message" songs in minor keys. And if the singer died tragically and prematurely, the song placed even higher. No "feel good" songs. And definitely no dance.

All of this makes this Hottest 100 of All Time a poison chalice for those whose job is to try to promote the station on the back of it, and for those who would defend Triple J's taxpayer funding on the basis that the national youth broadcaster has an important role in promoting cultural diversity.

Unfortunately, the data suggest that Triple J - intended to break down the sameness associated for so long with commercial Top 40 radio - may simply have subsituted a new kind of (white male) sameness.

ABC News: Not just wrong but misleading on Yemenia Air crash

An introductory headline in ABC Radio News at 5:00pm (as heard on 774 ABC Melbourne) said:

Another Airbus A330 crashes into the ocean...

The actual report later in the news noted - correctly (as reported elsewhere) - that the aircraft type involved is an Airbus A310, which is an older plane of completely different design to the A330.

The wording of the headline - specifically the reference to "another A330..." and "crashes into the ocean..." - was clearly designed to evoke recall of the tragic Air France AF447 crash in the Atlantic earlier in June.

I rang the ABC Radio newsroom immediately (while the bulletin was still running). The person to whom I spoke acknowledged that the headline had been incorrect and agreed with me that it should be corrected. However, five minutes later, the headlines in the "recap" at the end of the news once again made the misleading claim that "another Airbus A330 has crashed into the ocean".

OK, I may be a plane-spotting nerd, but this was not merely a matter of having the facts wrong. This was clearly an attempt by someone in ABC News to sensationalise the news by implying this was "yet another" incident involving the A330, regardless of the fact that this crash involves a completely different aircraft type. Furthermore, reports to this point suggest that this crash occurred while the plane was makiing its approach to land in the Comoros, and not (more worryingly and much less explicably) at cruise altitude in mid-flight, as was the case with Air France 447.

Given that there are a number of A330s in the Qantas fleet, that kind of misleading and sensationalist reporting has serious implications for Australian consumers.

Wilkins: Not just gullible but culpable in Goldblum death rumour

There's already been a lot written about Nine Network entertainment reporter Richard Wilkins and rumours of actor Jeff Goldblum's death, which spread at the same time as the world was learning that Michael Jackson had died of an apparent heart attack last Friday morning, Melbourne time.

Wilkins' conduct - mentioned as far afield as the Daily Mail in London and exploited for humour by Rove McManus last night - looks more appalling than comical when one examines the timelines involved and considers the resources he has available to him as a highly-paid and apparently well-connected correspondent.

I watched it unfold on Twitter, and there is no doubt in my mind that Wilkins himself fuelled the rumour by:
(a) picking it up from Twitter and not from any reliable news source
(b) broadcasting it and repeating it without apparently making any attempt to check it
(c) worst of all by far, giving the rumour credence by – falsely – attributing the report directly to New Zealand police as though he had spoken to them, and not to the hoax website (which claimed NZ police as a source).

The video clip raises a number of significant issues. Wilkins clearly stated (around 0:52):

New Zealand police are saying that that is a correct story.

Wilkins and colleagues then went on (over a "highlights" or obituary reel of Goldblum's acting) to discuss his career achievements while speaking of him in the past tense.

Some Australian Twitter users then began repeating Wilkins' report on the basis that he had confirmed the truth of the rumour. Indeed, overseas Twitter users began identifying "TV news in Australia" as having verified Goldblum's death; thanks to Wilkins' confirmation, many like this even had the actor dying IN Australia. It wasn’t long before celebrity users like Demi Moore – with millions of followers on Twitter – repeated the rumour and expressed their concern.

Meanwhile, back on the Today show, the time clock in the bottom right indicates that Wilkins was reporting this "correct story" at 9.42 am Eastern Australian time. New Zealand is two hours ahead of Eastern Australia, so it was already late morning in New Zealand, and there should have been no difficulty in getting NZ police media sources on the line to check the story before simply repeating a rumour from Twitter.

Furthermore, Wilkins is a "showbiz" reporter of many years' experience. Viewers could reasonably expect Wilkins to have links to "insiders" (e.g. artists' management and publicists, etc.) not accessible to the general public and to have checked with some of his supposed Hollywood connections, again, before treating the rumour as essentially being fact.

The links to the "story" as it was being posted on Twitter soon after 9 am on Friday all traced back to a single hoax website – there was no great difficulty establishing that it was a hoax. Indeed, Twitter users were already identifying it as a probable hoax as early as 9.31 am (see my own tweet and re-tweet. That is, 10 minutes before Wilkins made the statement that "New Zealand police are saying that that is a correct story", numerous average Twitter users had already exposed it as a likely or definite hoax.

When the likelihood of the report being a hoax was mentioned on Nine (at 9.55 am), the Today hosts and Wilkins did not apologise but rather blamed the nasty, exploitative hoax website for spreading the rumour ("that’s sick").

To add insult to injury, in Nine's main Friday evening news bulletin, as a "footnote" to the Michael Jackson coverage, it was noted that "a rumour spread online" about the death of Goldblum. There was no mention of Nine’s role or of "Dickie" Wilkins' significant contribution to the rumour via his lazy, shoddy journalism.

Misleading use of the word "exclusive"? There's no other store...

Recently, on the same day, two envelopes from David Jones arrived in our letterbox at home.

One was addressed to my wife, who has had a David Jones store account since before I met her 20 years ago. It contained a letter, addressed to her by name, and carrying a bold red headline that said "AN EXCLUSIVE INVITATION FOR DAVID JONES CARDMEMBERS TO OUR PRE-CLEARANCE SHOPPING NIGHT". The body of the letter read:

As a valued David Jones Cardmember, you and your family are invited to the David Jones Pre-Clearance Shopping Night on Tuesday 2nd June 2009 from 5pm to 10pm at all stores... This is an exclusive invitation for our David Jones American Express Cardmembers and David Jones Storecard holders...

The second envelope, which looked almost identical, was addressed simply to "the Householder". It contained a letter with a similar bold red headline, and read:

Dear Householder... You and your family are invited to the David Jones Pre-Clearance Shopping Night on Tuesday 2nd June 2009 from 5pm to 10pm at David Jones Doncaster store... Whilst usually reserved for David Jones Cardmembers... we are giving you the opportunity to enjoy great offers...

Over the years, my wife has sometimes attended "exclusive" shopping nights for David Jones Cardmembers. But our assumption has always been that an "exclusive invitation for cardmembers" means only cardmembers are invited.

Yet on this occasion, DJs clearly also letterbox dropped thousands of households in the northeastern suburbs of Melbourne.

On the night, there was nothing "exclusive" about entry to David Jones' Doncaster store. If you showed an invitation - any invitation - you got in. And no roped-off VIP area for cardmembers.

So how was my wife's personalised invitation in any sense "exclusive"?

This isn't about whether cardmembers are forced to mingle with the riff-raff on a promotional shopping night. It's about stupid and disingenuous - and possibly misleading and deceptive - promotion on the part of David Jones.

Discovering that a trusted brand has engaged in such behaviour can be a powerful influence in undermining customer loyalty. And isn't brand loyalty the reason why stores like DJs have store credit and cardmember programs in the first place?

Is Kraft putting its Nuts on the line?

Noticed at the supermarket this week: Kraft appears to be re-configuring its peanut butter product range under the name KRAFT Nuts.

First to appear was the "smooth" variety, fomerly called simply KRAFT smooth peanut butter. Under the new brand architecture, the same product is now KRAFT nuts peanut butter - smooth. Only a minor change, and the overall look and colour scheme are the same. So why bother going to the expense of rebranding?

Well, while "Kraft Peanut butter" probably carries significant brand equity with Australian consumers, the word "smooth" and the phrase "peanut butter" are both highly descriptive and not distinctive. Hence, Kraft could only ever claim Trade Mark protection for the word Kraft itself and not for any combination.

However, a search of the IP Australia Trade Marks register shows that a composite mark including the word KRAFT in its familiar hexagonal red border combined with the word nuts on a peanut-shaped graphic device was lodged in April 2009. Kraft and its lawyers obviously believe that "KRAFT nuts" with a specific graphic device is sufficiently distinctive to be granted a trade mark monopoly. This would mean convincing IP Australia that, in combination with KRAFT, "nuts" is an unsual name for a peanut butter or other spread (even though it's a highly descriptive word if applied to nuts).

Strategically, this gives Kraft the opportunity to build equity in something it can own beyond the KRAFT corporate brand name, but in a way that probably won't confuse consumers.

Given that I can find nothing about it anywhere on the web, this rebranding seems to be getting a very "soft" launch. But I would expect to see some new advertising featuring, and possibly explaining, the revised architecture before long.

Fyna takes the fun out of Wizz Fizz

Wizz Fizz - the sugary sherbet treat that comes in single serve packets, each with a little spoon - has undergone a bizarre package redesign that makes it far more conservative and wussy.
Yes, believe it or not, that's the OLD pack on the left and the NEW pack on the right.

In my experience, kids loved the freaky monster graphics of the most recent packaging. But the new look is tame - the colour scheme is muted, the fonts and graphic elements far less interesting, and the monsters are replaced with lame-looking kids.

Why would brand owner Fyna Foods make their product apparently less interesting and exciting for kids?

To me, all the clues add up to a ridiculous effort by Fyna to be seen as more "responsible", perhaps under pressure from nutritionists and those who would censor all marketing communications aimed at children (including product packaging).

The most telling of these clues is the amount of pack "real estate" - somewhere near 50% - now given over to "health claims". We are now told that Wizz Fizz is 100% fat free, gluten free, dairy free and contains no artificial flavours or colours.

Huh? Did anyone ever imagine that Wizz Fizz sherbet contained anything other than sugar, bicarb and citric acid? Do parents really need to be reassured that it contains no fat? Parents of kids with allergies and intolerances to dairy and gluten would already be checking the ingredients list, so why make these claims so prominent?

This whole thing smacks of the same "strategy" that has brought Coca-Cola unstuck through its ridiculous and misleading (that's the ACCC, not me) "Mythbusting" advertorials last year featuring Kerry Armstrong. I've still seen nothing that justified Coke's defensive stance in the first place - it was all wrong strategically.

Nor can I see any reason why Fyna should be taking the fun out of Wizz Fizz.

Red Bull advertising gets a harder edge

A new TV ad for Red Bull screening in Australia appears to be explicitly linking the guarana and caffeine-laced beverage to a claim of enhanced male sexual performance.

Red Bull’s long-running ad campaign featuring hand-drawn cartoons has consistently communicated the product promise that Red Bull “gives you wiiings”. Often this idea has been depicted literally, as the cartoon protagonists sprout wings allowing them to fly out of trouble or perform at higher levels.

Leading marketing academic Professor Kevin Lane Keller, in a comprehensive case study of the brand, writes that Red Bull’s ads were very effective “because they clearly communicated product benefits without promising specific physiological results”. However, although it looks similar, Red Bull’s new ad – which I saw for the first time this week – goes way beyond this well-established advertising formula.

The setting is a nude beach. A young woman is lying, presumably naked, reading a newspaper. A man arrives and asks her if it’s OK if he sets up next to her (his genitals are obscured by a horizontal black rectangle). They have a brief conversation and she offers him a can of Red Bull. He has a drink and immediately develops an erection, depicted by a change in angle of the black rectangle. While he appears to be embarrassed, she clearly approves. The ad is tagged in the usual manner: “Red Bull gives you wiiings”.

Why will this ad cause problems for Red Bull?

It’s not that the subject matter of the ad could cause offence – it’s a cartoon, after all, and the erection is implied (although there’s nothing equivocal about it). It’s not even that the tone is creepy and sleazy – erections on a nude beach are a bit Benny Hill-ish at the best of times.

The real problem here is that this ad makes no bones about what physiological benefit is being promised. It cannot be interpreted other than as a literal claim that Red Bull causes or enhances erection.

While medical opinion would suggest the opposite if anything (excessive caffeine intake is sometimes listed as contributing to erectile dysfunction), the internet is full of anecdotes, opinions and myths linking Red Bull to sexual performance. There are even YouTube testimonials to its power (WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT AND LANGUAGE. DEFINITELY NOT SAFE FOR WORK, KIDS, etc.).

Is Red Bull seeking to exploit internet rumours and gossip? That would be dicey strategy for any well-established brand.

But there are more serious legal issues here. What looks like an unequivocal and explicit claim for beneficial effects on male sexual function – or any physiological effect for that matter – would normally need to be validated by evidence, or Red Bull could be found to have breached regulations around the promotion of therapeutic goods.

The Therapeutic Goods Administration defines as a "therapeutic good" any product which is represented in any way to be, or is likely to be taken to be, for use... in connection with preventing, diagnosing, curing or alleviating a disease, ailment, defect or injury... (or) influencing inhibiting or modifying a physiological process".

In other words, would the Red Bull ad stand up in court?

Why some brands should NOT be on Twitter

In the few short weeks I’ve been on Twitter (@downesy), I’ve already seen and followed dozens of posted links to articles about brands and Twitter. These have ranged from short and relatively obscure blog posts to serious articles by respected commentators in the advertising and marketing trade press. Many of them are interesting and have valid and useful points to make and share about brands on Twitter. But I’ve found it increasingly disturbing that these articles often share an underlying premise that goes unspoken and therefore unchallenged.

That premise is that brands should – indeed some go far as to say MUST – have a presence on Twitter.

OK, Twitter is new and buzzing. Yes, Twitter users are enthusiastic, zealous even, and great evangelists for this exciting new communications medium. Indeed, it seems like a very significant proportion of the traffic on Twitter is about Twitter. But being new, fast, powerful and exciting – like a Lamborghini perhaps – doesn’t mean it’s for everyone. Nor, indeed, does it make it right for every brand. The first – strategic – question any brand manager, agency strategy planner or “digital brand strategist” should be asking is not “Quick, how can we get our brand on Twitter?” but rather “How could being on Twitter help our brand?”

If you can’t answer the second question immediately, then there’s probably little point, cyber-squatting arguments apart (i.e. secure the brand’s @ identity before someone else “fakes” it), rushing around and appointing someone as the brand’s Twitter monitor and plunging headlong into the (ahem) Twitterverse.

And don’t be surprised or ashamed if you can’t answer the second question definitively even after lengthy, open-minded strategic consideration. It’s not a question that many brands can answer yet, if they are honest about it.

“What the hell, shouldn’t we just go for it anyway?” I hear you asking. Not necessarily – it may be that your brand should NOT be on Twitter, at least not yet and maybe not ever, for one or more of the following reasons.

1. Twitter users are not a target audience for your brand. A disciplined approach to customer segmentation dictates that you target some segments and choose not to serve others. Currently, the few million users of Twitter around the world represent a pretty distinctive segment when viewed along demographic, behavioural and psychographic lines. They are an attractive audience for some brands, but not for others. Should a brand therefore bother with Twitter if it is targeting people with a very low prevalence of Twitter use? Well, not if it diverts strategic resources (people, money and management focus) away from other priorities or if it has the potential to undermine more core communication messages and initiatives.
2. Twitter isn’t right for your brand’s personality. Popular individuals on Twitter have distinctive personalities and tones of voice. In the case of celebrities or people we know offline, these typically align with their real-life personae, or at least reflect parts of their personalities that we recognize (it’s amazing what the discipline of 140 characters can unleash in some people).
   But we all know people who would simply be boring on Twitter – love ’em to death, but it’s just not their style. Likewise, there are brands – even brands we love – that would also be boring or inappropriate on Twitter.
   Brand personality and values have to be built from within. Merely being on Twitter doesn’t automatically confer on a brand attributes like “cool” and “digitally savvy” if, indeed, that’s what you want for the brand. To assume otherwise would be to set the brand up for (dare I say) “epic fail”.
3. Your brand doesn’t speak “tweet”. Many brands have succeeded in communicating distinctive positioning and personality through long-running campaigns using (for example) long-copy print ads, or emotion-laden cinematic TV commercials, or quirky viral and outdoor media. That doesn’t mean the brand is stuck with these media, these tactics and this tone of voice forever, but you must ask whether the limitations of Twitter allow your brand to use a voice that’s congruent with positioning and other aspects of the marcoms mix. Or is 140 characters and the witty, sometimes arch, off-the-cuff Twitter style just not where your brand is coming from?
4. People like your brand but don’t want to follow it on Twitter. I have lots of friends who aren’t on Facebook or Twitter. Just because I now use Facebook and Twitter a lot doesn’t mean those people are no longer my friends – we have other ways of keeping in touch and relating.
   The same goes for brands. Some of my favorite brands just don’t feel like they belong on Twitter or are not yet ready for Twitter.
5. Your brand becomes a freaking nuisance on Twitter. If your brand has little or nothing of relevance to say but keeps tweeting away regardless, even the most loyal consumers will begin to ignore it and may ultimately resent it and choose to stop following it. Haven’t we all “unfriended” someone because they kept bombarding us with stupid zombie requests?
   Enraptured with Twitter and all its power and possibility, long-time ad people are sometimes forgetting concepts like wear-out. There are plenty of cases where excessive exposure to otherwise likeable ads has turned consumers off a brand and there’s nothing magical about Twitter that will prevent that from happening.
6. People who aren’t into your brand offline just aren't that into you. Being on Twitter may get your brand extra attention and extra opportunities to impress but it’s unlikely to make people love your brand if they don’t like it in the real world.
7. Even if people do like following your brand on Twitter, it doesn't change anything. Twitter should be a consideration in overall brand strategy, not drive brand strategy. What strategic objectives are you trying to achieve using Twitter? Could they be better met through other tactics and other media? And don’t ignore the potential downside risks of being on Twitter, especially if you don’t have the rest of the marketing mix right.
8. The rest of the brand’s service delivery and marketing infrastructure can’t support promises made or implied by a Twitter presence. I’ve had one great service experience via Twitter (from Google, after I tweeted a complaint about Google Toolbar out into the ether and got a reply from the Google Toolbar Grand Poobah himself in California). But the same didn’t happen when I tweeted about Telstra BigPond. In fact, nothing happened. And that’s fine, but I would be very annoyed to see a stream of semi-promotional crap from Telstra on Twitter when I can’t get them on the phone inside 30 minutes to talk about real problems with my service and my bill.
   I can also envisage situations where Twitter might serve to exacerbate poor service experiences and then broadcast them to the world. A personal text message from an airline telling you that your flight is cancelled and suggesting you get to the airport for an earlier one can be an extremely valuable addition to the service experience. But the same doesn’t necessarily go for Twitter. If you’ve ever been at Sydney Airport (as I have) on a day when Qantas domestic has a total meltdown due to weather, then a Twitter stream of delays and confusion could be an absolute PR disaster. On the other hand, knowing that there are problems but finding no mention of it on a Qantas Twitter profile would also undermine confidence and trust.

People with a vested interest in one particular medium – and that goes for TV, radio, newspapers, etc. and not just “digital” – have always sought, and will continue to seek, to highlight ways in which your brand could use their medium ahead of any others. But based on what I’ve seen so far, some people who glory in titles like “digital brand strategist” need to extract the digit and focus first on the brand.

Trujillo and racism: My reply to Harry Mavros in full

Harry Mavros wrote in reply to my two recent articles in Crikey, in which I was described aspects of the media treatment of Telstra CEO Sol Trujillo as employing racist stereotypes.

The following is the full text of my reply to Mavros.

I commend Harry Mavros for approaching the issue with some structure and intellectual rigour, and for playing the ball not the man. However, I’m sure we both deplore and reject racism not because of its underlying motivations but because of its awful consequences. While I acknowledge the distinction Mavros draws between “vulgar parochialism” and racism, I am far less concerned about issues of definition (those to which I referred as “technicalities”) than I am about the effects.

Racism and vulgar parochialism are fellow travelers – Mavros acknowledges that both produce the same kinds of derision of culture and appearance – and most Australians can’t tell an epiphenomenon from an epiglottis. The argument isn’t about whether cartoonists and sub-editors are motivated by racism (I don’t believe they are) but whether their actions could promote racism.

We appear to be in furious agreement that Knight's Trujillo cartoon is discriminatory and vulgar. But, as I made clear in both of my recent pieces (and my 2006 Crikey article), last Friday’s cartoon was just the latest episode in a long and troubling history. Sections of the Australian media have treated Mr Trujillo in this discriminatory and vulgar manner from the time of his appointment right through to the announcement of his departure.

This and other cartoons, “cute” headlines like “Si senor”, nicknames like the “Three Amigos”, and radio stations playing the Mexican Hat Dance whenever his name is mentioned may look benign when considered individually. But for a very significant proportion of the Australian population, each of these repeated pairings – of Trujillo with a false, vulgar and discriminatory (Mavros's words) national and cultural stereotype – leverages existing prejudices and has the potential to engender fixed and absolute beliefs about racial inferiority.

By humorously referring to Victorians as “Mexicans” (i.e. from “south of the border”), Sydneysiders have long tapped into the “Mexican” racial stereotype in order to imply, albeit gently, that Victorians are intellectually inferior, slow and lazy.

I have interviewed many Australian consumers who, based on the cartoon and movie stereotypes on which they have been raised, and bolstered by the information they get from trusted contemporary media sources, believe that: (i) Sol Trujillo is “a Mexican”; (ii) “Mexicans” are intrinsically (culturally, genetically, whatever) inferior to other “races” in intellect, competence and trustworthiness; and (iii) as a “Mexican”, Sol Trujillo was a poor choice as Telstra CEO and an incompetent manager.

These people often have no basis for assessing Trujillo’s performance objectively. They see and hear others making fun of him because he’s “a Mexican” and, linking this to other (perhaps more reasoned) criticism in the media, make racially-based attributions about the reasons for his incompetence.Average German citizens and soldiers probably didn’t consider Jews genetically inferior until encouraged to believe this by Nazi propagandists. Indeed, they had to reject evidence to the contrary, namely that Jews in Germany included academics, musicians, scientists and business leaders.

But the Nazis didn’t need genotyping to convince other Germans that Jews were racially inferior. They simply heaped scorn on their appearance and cultural and religious practices. These were the tangible artefacts that “proved” their genetic inferiority: “They look funny and dress funny, they act strange, hence they are inferior.”

I am disturbed to have been accused by Mavros of recklessness for having raised the issue of racism. To deny racism on the basis of a purist argument about definitions and motivations is to be recklessly indifferent to the potential consequences of racial stereotypes and derision in the media.

Victorian bushfires: Which brands are rising from the ashes?

[Note: This article is not intended to be distasteful or to cause offence. I’m not suggesting that anybody “wins” or has sought to “win” from tragedies like September 11 or Black Saturday. I’m merely applying a marketing and brand management perspective to what often happens in the wake of such events.]

Contemporary approaches to consumer behaviour view brands as a key way in which humans beings categorise the modern world, and a basis for sharing important cultural concepts and experiences. It’s not surprising, then, that new brands emerge and others are strengthened or damaged in the context of major events like disasters and wars.

This was certainly apparent in the days and weeks following the terrorist attacks in the US on 11 September 2001.

First were the attacks themselves and their immediate consequences. It didn’t take long before “September 11”and “9/11” became the two names used relatively interchangeably, especially in the US. No reference to a year is necessary – say “September 11” or “nine-eleven” and people know instantly to what you are referring.

Then came the groups, institutions and individuals whose brand associations, imagery and equity changed in the wake of the attacks and the tragedy.

Consider al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden. It’s fair to say that neither was a household name before 9/11, especially not outside the US. Now, for many in the West, they stand for evil – a willingness to deliberately sacrifice thousands of innocent civilians and to horrify and terrorise whole populations in the name of a dubious cause. To be “linked to al-Qaeda” or have “trained with al-Qaeda” is to be tarred with the same brush.

The New York Police Department, with whom New Yorkers had sometimes had an uneasy relationship over the decades, and the Fire Department of New York were rightly hailed as heroes of 9/11 for their extraordinary responses and selfless sacrifice. Millions of consumers have bought T-shirts and caps bearing the acronyms NYPD and FDNY out of admiration and genuine empathy.

As a focal point for New York’s response to the attacks and for New Yorkers in general, Mayor Rudy Giuliani became a national and international figure. The boost to his brand equity might have been sufficient to take him to the White House had other challenges and challengers not appeared – not that he would have sought to manipulate the tragedy of 9/11 for political advantage.

But there is no doubt that George W. Bush did choose to leverage the powerful brand imagery of the 9/11 attacks in launching the war on terror and, in particular, in justifying the invasion of Iraq. This has come to be seen as a misuse or misrepresentation of 9/11 and was one of many things that came back to haunt Bush in the later years of his presidency.

Now in Victoria and, indeed, across Australia, it has been interesting to observe some of the same phenomena in action – the emergence and re-making of some brands in the wake of the terrible bushfires of Saturday 7 February.

First, there’s the issue of what to call the fires. While “Ash Wednesday” took root quickly in the Australian consciousness after the 1983 fires, I get the sense that the name “Black Saturday” hasn’t yet become embedded. Of course, it doesn’t have the head start that “Black Friday” (1939) and “Ash Wednesday” had, both being names that were already in popular use in other contexts.

Perhaps the use of the name “Black Saturday” in speeches for the national day of mourning on Sunday 22 February – and, in particular, in PM Kevin Rudd’s official address – will get it over the “tipping point” of public awareness and acceptance.

Which organizational and individual brands have emerged strengthened from the ashes of Black Saturday?

Most prominent must be the Country Fire Authority. A continuous flow of words and pictures have reminded us what horrors the members of the CFA confronted both in fighting the firestorm and, all too often, as the first to come upon the unimaginable human consequences. The discovery that the picture of a CFA officer giving a koala a drink was from before Black Saturday did nothing to diminish the respect the organisation earned.

The fact that so many are volunteers is a critical part of the CFA’s brand identity and values and our response to the CFA brand. In his speech on Sunday, Rudd acknowledged this brand imagery and how it might resonate for Australians in the future when he referred to “a new army of heroes where the yellow helmet evokes the same reverence as the slouch hat of old”.

Although Rudd has been chief mourner, it’s not clear whether this has had much impact on his brand image. On the other hand, the brand of Victorian premier John Brumby has had a very obvious boost – this is not to suggest, of course, that he would ever have wished to gain brand equity in this most tragic of ways. My observations suggest that over the past two weeks, as his real personality and humanity have been allowed to come to the fore, many Victorians have warmed to a man who was once widely considered too cold and distant to be electable as Premier. Political commentators have made the same observation.

As the organization at the centre of the major fundraising appeal and at the heart of relief and recovery efforts, the Red Cross has had a significant boost to its salience in the mind of the average Australian. But then, of course, that is its fate – to be prominent at times of disaster, tragedy and great need, and far less visible the rest of the time.

Have any brands lost ground? As some people have cast about for someone to blame for the tragedy, “The Greens” (and/or “greenies” in general) and the Shire of Nillumbik have been two early targets of negative sentiment in regard to planning regulations and processes. These will no doubt be an area of inquiry for the Royal Commission.

Last but not least are the communities like Kinglake, Marysville, Strathewen, Flowerdale and Calignee, many of which may have been unfamiliar names even to Melburnians before this disaster, but now immediately call to mind the horror of the fatal firestorm. This is not necessarily the kind of brand association that a town wants – just ask the people of Lockerbie in Scotland, whose town even 20 years later is known only for the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103.

But, as Kevin Rudd noted on Sunday, these names and others are now “etched deep in the nation's memory”.

Passive voice makes me aggressive!

Ads running on Melbourne morning radio this week re the impending closure of the Montague Street on-ramp to the CityLink tollway included the following line in the serious voice-over:

"It is encouraged motorists plan their trip with alternate routes"

I think I’ve seen this message once before… on a Chinese T-shirt. If CityLink is going to pay real money for spots like this, surely they can also afford a copywriter who’s familiar with English.

Market research gets tougher as suggers clog the phone lines

As published in Crikey! on 14 December 2007

The phone rings. You answer and there’s that tell-tale two seconds of call-centre ambience before you are greeted by name:

"We’re just doing a 40-second survey on holiday habits…"

"Just a quick survey about people’s telephone services…"

Don’t be fooled: not everything that’s a "survey" is research. Depressingly often, it’s what the market research industry calls sugging (a loose acronym for "selling under the guise of research"), fugging ("fundraising…") or dugging ("databasing…").

Although long recognised as abusing the rights and trust of the public and often constituting misleading and deceptive conduct under Section 52 of the Trade Practices Act, sugging and its fellow travellers appear to be on the increase in Australia. In the past week alone, I have received three sugging calls at home, and it’s a fair bet that many of the hang-ups on my answering machine were also from suggers.

The classic example of sugging is the call that starts with "We’re just doing a survey in your area…" and eventually, either during the same call or a few days or weeks later, leads to an approach, invitation or straight-out sales pitch.

Sometimes you’re told you will go into some kind of prize draw to thank you for participating in the "survey". Sure enough, a few days or weeks later, there’s a second call and – wowee! – you won a weekend away at a timeshare resort. Of course, there’s a catch: in order to claim your prize, you have to attend a lengthy sales presentation and agree to be hassled for months if not years to come.

More disturbing is the call that purports to be a survey but actually consists of a series of increasingly leading or pushy questions about your current phone bill or mortgage repayments. Most consumers will recognise that a question like "Were you aware there’s now a way that you can save thousands on your mortgage?" is not legitimate market research. But by this stage, it’s often too late – you’ve already taken the bait, voluntarily divulged some personal information and you’re on the back foot.

Other times, you are called a few weeks later and actually reminded of the responses you gave. "Remember you told us X and Y about your preferred holiday destination? Well, we thought you might be interested in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity..."

This would be a contemptible breach of privacy and ethical provisions in genuine research, which is undertaken on the basis that complete anonymity of the research respondent is strictly preserved. As the code of the Australian Marketing and Social Research Society (AMSRS) makes clear, any situation in which the identity and personal details of the people contacted are to be used for individual selling, promotional, fundraising or other non-research purposes "can under no circumstances be regarded as market research".

My own experience this week suggests that, like other forms of telemarketing, sugging calls can come from on-shore and off-shore sites. A call I received from the Stingray International Survey Centre – which was presented as a "quick survey" on my telephone use – came from the Mercury Blue telemarketing call centre in Mount Barker, South Australia. The caller did not and could not tell me how my data were going to be used, what were my rights under privacy provisions, or who was the sponsor of the research. Neither could (or would) the "supervisor".

The Mercury Blue website describes their outbound call services as including "direct sales campaigns, database updates, qualified appointment setting, surveys, database management, after sales customer service calls (and) product up-selling". Perhaps needless to say, Mercury Blue is not listed as a member of the Association of Market & Social Research Organisations (AMSRO).

The "40-second survey on holiday habits" was a call from a telemarketing organisation in Angeles City, Philippines, whose operator and "supervisor" were unable to understand my simple questions about the integrity of my personal information and the uses to which my data would be put. Off-shore suggers may be more problematic: do the misleading and deceptive conduct provisions of the Australian Trade Practices Act apply to a call placed from overseas on behalf of an overseas company, and can the Act be enforced in these circumstances?

But even if suggers are caught and punished by the law, and consumers recognise when they’ve been sugged, fugged or dugged, there’s a significant downside for the market research industry. Those who’ve been burned by suggers are much more likely to reject future requests to participate in genuine research.

Research conducted by the AMSRS has shown that Australian consumers are broadly supportive of genuine research and do differentiate between telemarketers and market researchers, but sugging muddies the waters by deliberately blurring this distinction. Some research fieldworkers are reporting increasing resistance from consumers who feel they’ve been misled and no longer known who to trust when it comes to "surveys".

The biggest problem is that almost all sugging goes unreported. Unsolicited calls of any kind are viewed by consumers not only as a nuisance but with increasing disgust and anger, but few can be bothered taking the additional time and effort either to check the bona fides of a purported research call with the AMSRS Surveyline (1300 364 830) or to report offenders to the ACCC.

Authorities like the ACCC must step up proactive efforts to detect and stop suggers and to alert consumers to the problem. It’s time we all told these offenders to take their fugging "surveys" and shove ‘em.

Memo to middle-aged cyclists: Please, no sausage and eggs with my latte!

(As published in Crikey! Thursday 29 November 2007)

"Cycling is the new golf."

It’s an observation that’s been around long enough now to be deemed a cliché. I’ve even contributed to its perpetuation myself, trotting it out on more than one occasion when it seemed relevant.

Like other clichés, it contains some useful truths. Indeed, as has been the case with golf for decades, some business people (almost exclusively male) are using cycling for networking, perhaps not while they’re puffing uphill, but certainly at suburban or bayside coffee shops mid- or post-ride.

Furthermore, by taking up cycling, men get a whole pannier-load of further opportunities to compete on the basis of the size, power and expensiveness of their equipment. As a local golf blogger has noted, cycling – like golf – allows the cashed-up participant to indulge himself with ridiculously overpriced technology, specified far in excess of what’s required, that won’t actually improve performance but looks good and makes others go "oooooooh".

But lately I’ve realised that there is a great deal about cycling that isn't like golf at all. The main difference – and the most obvious when you think about it – is that golf takes place in private among consenting adult foursomes, while cycling is a very – alarmingly – public pastime.

We may find the golfer’s taste in plaid pants and Argyle sweaters somewhat dubious, but we generally don’t have to look at them. They’re out there somewhere, several fairways away from civilisation or cloistered in the clubhouse.

By contrast, in many parts of Melbourne and, I’m guessing, other cities, you can’t get to the counter to order your weekend caffe latte without pushing past a large group of sweaty middle-aged guys in tight, gaudy clobber. For the non-cyclist, cycling is a pursuit that’s a lot more "in your face" – literally – than golf.

Golf may be elitist but at least plus-fours are loose in the crotch. When I put down my coffee and look up from the job ads in the early news pages of Saturday’s paper, I frequently find myself eyeballing a different kind of executive package. Bike shorts clearly aren’t for everyone: as noted famously in the movie Hackers, "Spandex (Lycra) is a privilege, not a right".

Then there are the jerseys. Apparently it’s a requirement that every piece of cycling apparel sold in Australia must carry at least half a dozen logos for brands we’ve never heard of. There are obscure European banks (sorry, "banques") and mobile phone companies, with names like "Clafoutis" and "Telesavalas", together with cars from former Soviet republics. This really amounts to visual pollution and an uncalled-for intrusion in our suburbs and bakery cafés.

I believe it’s time for the non-cycling community to rise up and demand that middle-aged cyclists take their hobby off the roads and onto the velodrome. Perhaps we could ask activist Naomi Klein to take up the cause: for the executive cyclist, the message should be "No Logo", "No Lycra" and "No Latte".

Is justice colour blind?

Judges in the highest Court in the land have shown that, like all of us, they may be prey to the seductive effects of branding. And one of the world’s biggest brands may have been the loser.

The High Court recently refused BP leave to appeal an earlier Federal Court decision rejecting the petroleum giant’s application for a trade mark for the colour green. But remarks made during the hearing suggest that the judges at times got caught up in the current frenzy of “green” branding in the marketplace.

Consumers are now inundated with “green” claims, with everyone from energy utilities, banks and retailers to toilet paper invoking “green” credentials. “Green” has effectively become a brand in its own right. But it’s easy to forget that the word “green” hasn’t always carried this meaning.

When I was growing up, calling someone “green” meant they were raw, immature, untried or naïve. You could be green with envy. And having a “green thumb” meant you were a dab hand in the garden, but by no means a “greenie”. In fact, many gardeners with the greenest thumbs probably burned their incinerators, had no compost bins, didn’t mulch, wasted water and used all kinds of nasty chemicals to keep the indigenous bugs off the exotic ornamentals.

These were evocative and metaphorical uses of the word green… but not the colour green.

BP has been seeking for many years to register the colour green – not the word – as a trade mark in relation to petrol retailing. The High Court hearing in May was basically its last roll of the dice.

Reading the transcript, one could be forgiven for thinking that Justice William Gummow had decided in advance that “green” always has a particular meaning connected with the environment and that BP’s choice of green was related to this meaning, and not to brand identification. His Honour asked David Shavin, QC, appearing for BP:

“What is the… significance of fixing upon green? Trademarks, as we know, can have their attraction and force from an impact that is illusive or evocative upon the viewer. What is the idea here?... What is nature (sic) and healthy about the production or consumption of petroleum products?”

His Honour apparently struggled to follow or accept Mr Shavin’s explanation that the colour green had been chosen years ago by BP for reasons unrelated to what the word green may have come to mean in 2007. Indeed, it had been noted in an earlier trial in the Federal Court that BP has used green in relation to petrol pumps since 1927 in the UK and in Australia since 1954.

Justice Michael Kirby, while acknowledging the history of BP's use of green, remarked that it was:

“a clever colour (for BP) to have chosen so many years ago because it is now very much associated with the environmental movement”.

Was His Honour suggesting that BP, when choosing a colour for its bowsers in 1927, had “cleverly” predicted the meanings that the word “green” would take on 80 years later?

Perhaps it’s understandable that, in the midst of hundreds of volumes of evidence and with an intense focus on complex issues of law and the interpretation of language, both learned judges appear to have confused the word green and the colour green. But the ability to draw such a distinction is surely what the public expects of the ultimate triers of fact.

The national depression initiative chose the name beyondblue to take advantage of one use of the word “blue” to denote human sorrow. That doesn’t stop numerous businesses using, and seeking trade mark protection for, the colour blue in a range of different categories. Luxury jeweller Tiffany has a colour trade mark for its famous blue box, OneSteel for blue fencing wire and Pfizer for the blue colour of its diamond-shaped Viagra tablets. Naturally, none of these companies wants consumers to associate its brand with depression, but clearly none of them is worried that this will happen through their use of the colour blue.

Consumers can and do distinguish all the time between colours as visual brand identity symbols and the possible meanings of the words we use for colours. For example, ask consumers about colours and brands in the rental car category and you’ll find green identifies Europcar (nothing to do with the environment), yellow identifies Hertz (not “cowardly”) and red identifies Avis (not “communist”).

BP’s High Court appeal ultimately failed on a number of legal grounds. But just imagine the outcry if someone in authority had suggested in passing that when Australia Post sought a trade mark for the colour red in relation to postal services it was doing so in order to convey communist sympathies!

Leisel endorsing Preston Motors? Someone selected the wrong gear!

Dy Dr Stephen Downes, as published in Crikey! on 20 June 2006.
In sports sponsorship terms, swimmer Leisel Jones is a hot property. An Olympian at age 14 in Sydney, she won gold, silver and bronze medals at the Athens Olympics in 2004. Two years later, she followed up with four gold medals at the Melbourne 2006 Commonwealth Games, and was chosen to carry the Australian flag in the closing ceremony.

She’s young, talented and likeable. And just prior to the FINA World Championships in March this year, Swiss watch brand Tag Heuer unveiled an advertising campaign featuring Leisel as it newest – and first Australian – brand ambassador, a role in which she joined Brad Pitt, Uma Thurman, Maria Sharapova, Tiger Woods, Steve McQueen and various F1 drivers. (Interestingly, you won't find her listed on the "Stars and Glamour" page of the Tag Heuer website.)

In the latest issue of the Sweeney Sports Report , which computes a kind of sponsorship “order of merit” based on consumers’ ratings of athletes’ suitability as brand endorsers, Leisel Jones gained 7 “Sweeney points” to be ranked equal 18th with Essendon AFL veteran James Hird, race driver Mark Skaife and Socceroo Tim Cahill. This puts her ahead of such notables as Lleyton Hewitt, Brownlow Medallist Chris Judd, Socceroo captain Mark Viduka and World Cup cricketer Andrew Symonds.

Given that background, if you were managing or advising Leisel Jones, what car brand would you seek out as the best match for a popular, credible endorser who’s already a glamorous Tag Heuer ambassador? A prestige marque, of course. Something speedy, performance-oriented, highly engineered and European, naturally. BMW, Audi, Mini or Mercedes perhaps?

Guess again.

This week, Leisel popped up on Melbourne free-to-air TV spruiking for local Holden dealer Preston Motors in a cheap and cheerful, “past-its-prime-time” commercial. Sure, she looked pleasant and perky, and she delivered her lines well – as well as you can when the script calls for something corny along the lines of “Dive in to Preston Motors”, repeated several times to camera. And there’s nothing wrong with Preston Motors; it’s an old-time dealership that’s been around since 1912, with its roots in Melbourne’s working-class northern suburbs.

But it’s a bizarre choice for Leisel, given her potential, her Sweeney ranking and her own apparent commercial aspirations just a few weeks ago. When she split with her coach in April this year, The Age reported that her objectives were “to cash in on commercial opportunities in Melbourne” and be with her footballer boyfriend, Marty Pask of the Western Bulldogs. Melbourne was looked upon as “a land of opportunity” and her earning capabilities were set to go “through the roof”.

The chance to do a lame ad for a local car dealer doesn’t look anything like a golden opportunity. And I’m not saying Preston Motors are cheap, but the ad’s script and production values suggest that the fee wouldn’t keep her supplied with Uncle Toby’s oats (another of her sponsors) for terribly long. Perhaps she got a car as “contra”.

But the long-term consequences are potentially much more significant than the simple matter of what Leisel got paid for this particular gig. Becoming known (and possibly ridiculed) for doing poor-quality, small-time or even ill-fitting endorsements can seriously damage an athlete or celebrity’s credibility as a presenter and hence his or her perceived value to marketers as a “co-brand”. It’s been speculated (as reported in Crikey! 21 July 2005) that even Lleyton Hewitt’s high-profile ads for Sorbent, while apparently beneficial to the brand, harmed his chances of maintaining and winning other endorsements by helping (as Inside Sport put it) to “smear (his) reputation permanently through association with loo paper”.

So who is advising Leisel? Who convinced her that becoming a spokesmodel for Preston Motors was a good idea, and why the heck did she agree?

Why the "WorkChoices" brand is now unemployed

(As published in Crikey!)

In turning its back on the name “WorkChoices” for its industrial relations policy and legislation, as reported late last week , the Howard government is finally acknowledging what can only be regarded as a brand strategy disaster. The new wave of Commonwealth IR advertising does not use the WorkChoices name, and it has also reportedly been dropped from other communications vehicles, including call centre scripts.

Why has WorkChoices failed as a brand name, in spite of the millions spent devising it (it has a distinctly over-workshopped feel), protecting it (via three separate trade marks in nine classes, including this doozy ), and on the website, call centres, and mailouts, not to mention the $45 million spent in the first round of advertising?

Is it simply that the name WorkChoices is so uninspired and pedestrian, or to be even more blunt, “lame”? “Choices” is one of those words, along with “options” and “solutions”, that are appallingly overused in brand and product naming at the moment, especially at the lower end of the market – even the local taxi truck owner-driver now describes his business as “logistics solutions”. You can’t expect consumers to warm to a brand name they feel embarrassed to use. Even the PM himself seemed to be admitting as much last week , when he said: “I don’t always describe it as WorkChoices. I sometimes say industrial relations, I sometimes say workplace relations”. You can bet the marketers of Coke aren’t happy for people to “sometimes” ask for “a cola”.

Or is it because WorkChoices so clearly fails the “Newspeak” test for sincerity in political language? Any reader of Orwell’s 1984 can recognise the absurdity of the Ministry of Truth being responsible for propaganda. So when politicians (or marketers) use a word like “choices”, even the least cynical amongst us is immediately prompted to wonder what choices or rights have actually been taken away. Perhaps the word “choices” itself has become too closely associated with propaganda. Even McDonald’s has made extensive use of it recently: “Deli Choices” is really about the Golden Arches fighting back against competition from Subway, while “Lighter Choices” is about breaking the strong mental association between the McDonald’s brand and fatty, unhealthy food.

Was there ever any hope of success for “WorkChoices” in the first place? Remember “Incentivation”, “Fightback”, “The Things That Matter” and “Knowledge Nation”? You don’t? Well, that’s the point. With an increasingly brand- and advertising literate electorate, attempts to brand political policies seem doomed to fail ever more spectacularly.

It’s not just the millions in wasted taxpayer dollars that should have Howard, Joe Hockey and the architects of the WorkChoices name hanging their heads in shame – there’s a significant political defeat here, too. “WorkChoices” not only failed to fire consumers’ imaginations, but Labor and the unions wouldn’t buy into it, either, maintaining the focus of their own counter-campaigns on phrases like “Howard’s IR laws” and “Your Rights At Work”. Simply walking away from the WorkChoices name at this late stage isn’t likely to allow the Howard government to leave the negative brand associations behind. The new slogan – “Know Where You Stand” – is also ripe for counter-argument and parody, as some bloggers have been quick to point out.

In the right hands, a well-chosen and well-managed brand can be a powerful influencer of perceptions, attitudes and behaviour. But the whole sorry WorkChoices episode seems to confirm that when it comes to branding contentious policy initiatives, you can’t polish a turd.

I see dead people… in prime time

(Cartoon by Peter Nicholson)

By Stephen Downes, as first published on Crikey! on 26 April 2007

In life, it took a lot to silence Steve Irwin. His unbridled enthusiasm for wildlife and environmental causes and his exuberant turn of phrase made him a magnetic presenter and 24-karat gold talent for US chat shows. And it seems that even death can’t keep the irrepressible Crocodile Hunter quiet.

Several times this week while watching evening TV, I have had the unnerving experience of being enthusiastically invited by Steve himself to visit Australia Zoo on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast. The first time I saw the ad, I thought it was some kind of tribute – I kept waiting for the “R.I.P.” message, the soft focus, the slow-mo footage and a few bars of John Williamson. But no, this is just a regular ad, apparently unaltered from before Irwin’s death last September, and now screening in Melbourne during prime time, a slot where I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it before.

You’d have to say there are few precedents for advertising messages from beyond the grave, especially when the departed spokesperson speaks directly to the viewer.

Although he died in 1989, the late John Meillion’s voice was sampled and re-engineered – with permission from his estate – so that he could keep reminding audiences right through the 1990s that “a hard-earned thirst needs a big cold beer... and the best cold beer is Vic”. But while his voice contributed great character to the brand, entire generations of VB drinkers would have had little or no knowledge of Meillion as an individual or perceived this as a personal endorsement.

On the other hand, Pauline Hanson – on video, direct to camera – told her fellow Australians that “if you are seeing me now, it means that I have been murdered”. Of course, it turned out she wasn’t actually dead at all.

Perhaps the most famous and chilling posthumous presenter was Yul Brynner. After his death from lung cancer in 1985, the American Cancer Society ran ads featuring footage from an interview with Brynner recorded just months earlier (you can see one here). He turned to camera, looked down the barrel and said "Now that I'm gone, I tell you: Don't smoke, whatever you do, just don't smoke." This ad was especially powerful – spine-tingling even – because we knew he was dead (the ad starts with a “super” giving dates of his birth and death) and we realise that he knew he would be dead when the message screened.

You only have to watch the “In Memoriam” sequence at the Oscars each year to recognise the emotional power of images of famous and well-loved people who have recently passed on. Perhaps that’s why I have found it disquieting to watch ads featuring a healthy, “larger than life”, pre-stingray Steve Irwin still spruiking for Australia Zoo in his inimitable fashion.

Of course Steve’s memory and legacy will always be central to the marketing of Australia Zoo and a key attraction for visitors. But I have no doubt many consumers will find the Irwin family’s decision to run the same old ads with the same old Steve surprising and perhaps even inappropriate or disrespectful. After all, immediately after his death the Australian Quarantine and Inspection Service withdrew the entire taxpayer-funded “Quarantine Matters” campaign for which Irwin was spokesperson “as a gesture of respect for Steve and his family” (as reported by the Sydney Morning Herald).