Looking Behind Those Bright Green Eyes

Key points:

1. FDA-approved eyelash enhancer Latisse may not seem like a big health care deal, but its ads are a great way to show how persuasive strategy works in big pharma advertising.

2. The ad uses classic techniques (primacy/recency, visual supremacy, and disassociation) to sell its message.

3. It uses those same techniques to downplay potential side effects. It may not be a big deal with Latisse, but other drugs are not so benign.

In the pantheon of big issues in health care, this has to rank near the bottom.

It’s called “hypotrichosis,” a medical condition in which the sufferer does not grow adequate eyelashes.

Now before you laugh, the eyelash serves a meaningful purpose. They protect the eye against foreign contamination; they are a first line of defense for one of the body’s most sensitive organs. Like most primates, humans are highly visual creatures, and the eyes are the center of that attraction. More specifically, human beings find large eyelashes attractive (evolutionary psychologists say) because they are a competitive advantage in a world of airborne dust and dirt.

For those poor souls who fail to grow eyelashes, or fail to grow them thick enough, medical science has come to the rescue with bimatoprost, the FDA’s first approved drug to lengthen lashes, marketed under the trade name “Latisse.”

But unlike its chemical twin used to treat glaucoma, Latisse isn’t meaningfully positioned as a medical product. Latisse ads are more reminiscent of a Revlon cosmetics pitch.

Certainly, condemning the marketing strategy for Latisse as vain and shallow would be an easy target given the enormity of the problems in the health care system. But I’m more comfortable allowing you to draw your own conclusions regarding the relative worth of this new product in the grand scheme.

What’s much more interesting to me are the subtle and not-so-subtle rhetorical strategies employed to get you on the phone with your doctor today while at the same time downplaying the potential side effects.

Why’s this important?

You may not be in the market for eyelash enhancement, but you may find yourself in the market for a cholesterol drug or a new diabetes treatment. The stakes are high.

Let’s begin, shall we, by dissecting the latest Latisse broadcast advertisement into its component storyboard.

• Opening scene

—Script summary: Speaker asks the viewer if she wants to grow longer, thicker lashes (presumably rather than extending them artificially).

—Voice/music: Female voice, sensual tone against an upbeat tempo.

—Visuals: Exciting animation of the key concepts along with cut shots of supermodel and actress Brooke Shields.

• Introduction of Latisse

—Script summary: Latisse is introduced as the first FDA-approved treatment proven to grow longer, thicker lashes.

—Voice/music: Brooke Shields introduces the product. Music remains, softer.

—Visuals: Camera tight on Brooke, alternating with the product logo and the initials “FDA.”

• Obligatory warning message

—Script summary: Potential for permanent side effects such as browning of the iris (likely permanent, but not a big deal—I guess—if you already have brown eyes), as well as warnings against using the product in conjunction with drugs for lowering eye pressure, namely the same drug marketed under the trade name Lumigan.

—Voice/music: Back to the first woman’s voice in monotone; significantly toned down music.

—Visuals: Brooke Shields having fun interacting at a cocktail party; certain warning language in white type reversed out of the darker bottom third of the screen.

Close and call to action

—Script summary: If you want to grow longer, fuller lashes, ask your doctor.

—Voice/music: Music returns up-tempo; back to Brooke Shields speaking directly to camera.

—Visuals: Tight camera on Brooke; Web site address.

If you read carefully, you’re bound to notice that this ad doesn’t seem all that unique. You’ve likely seen dozens of other drug ads structured in nearly the same way. Why do they do it? Why does it work so well? Let’s examine the rhetorical devices.

1. Primacy/recency:

We tend to remember the first thing we hear and the last thing we hear. We tend to gloss over the message in the middle. Every good speaker knows this; that’s why they open strong and end strong. This Latisse ad opens and closes with the same key message: Grow longer, fuller eyelashes. We remember that. We gloss over the discussion of side effects.

2. Visual supremacy:

Remember, humans are visual animals. We tend to believe what we see over what we hear. We are very adept at recognizing visual cues. The ad focuses on Brooke Shields—her great cheekbones and dazzling eyes. In fact, Latisse hardly could have made a better choice for the target demographic. We are inclined to believe her. And why shouldn’t we? The ad looks like a cosmetics ad. And cosmetics are safe. Why shouldn’t Latisse be safe too?

3. Disassociation:

Used in the Latisse ad to subtly downplay the severity of the warning messages, the script and the voice convey a serious message, while the visuals focus on Brooke Shields having fun. The verbal message and the visual message no longer agree. Which one takes precedence? You guessed it.

In the end, we are left with the impression that Latisse will do what it promises with an absolute minimum of risk. Like any product, its promoters want to downplay any negativity. I can’t blame them for that. That’s what advertisers do.

But there’s more to it than that.

Potential side effects of any drug are important. And they are being purposely downplayed—not just in this ad and not just for this drug, but in nearly every pharmaceutical ad you see. I could have used almost any of them to illustrate the persuasive devices used.

You can’t be a good consumer of health care products without being a savvy consumer of health care information. I hope this helps.

Related links:

Visit Latisse Online

How Do You Achieve Victory?

Key points:

1. Minnesota-based Victory Motorcycles leverages its parent company’s expertise in small engines to break into the motorcycle market.

2. But it doesn’t shy away from the fight: The company focus on high-end touring and custom bikes boldly puts it up against Harley-Davidson.

3. Victory has a fighting chance, but its growth will remain stunted unless it defines more clearly what it stands for, rather than focusing on Harley.

I am not a motorcycle guy.

That’s not a negative statement. Nor is it a positive statement. I just have no real experience with motorcycles of any kind.

But despite that, an ad at the Blaine, Minnesota Green Mill caught my eye. The basic ad copy read: If you were interested in an American-made bike, and if you cared about performance and reliability over “just a brand name,” then you should ride a Victory Motorcycle.

The ad mentioned a few specific performance and reliability measures but made no specific mention of the “other” American-made motorcycle in question. But for a branding guy, there was no question to which brand Victory was referring. Of course, Harley-Davidson.

As soon as I realized the comparison, it became brilliantly clear the uphill challenge Victory faced. From a branding perspective, the upstart fights against (perhaps) the best-regarded American vehicle brand for the last 30 years—a symbol of rebellion, style, and guts. It’s as American as apple pie, and more “American” than Chevrolet.

My first thought was “good luck.” Victory has no chance. The fight against the Harley brand was a money pit and ultimately doomed to fail.

But I was not sure my first impression was correct. It nagged at me. So I decided to do some homework. I learned something; and perhaps I can shed light on Victory’s (not so “pie in the sky”) chances against the rugged industry giant.

Born in 1998, Victory Motorcycles is part of Medina, Minnesota-based Polaris Industries. Yep, the same guys who bring you snowmobiles (snow machines?) during the winter months and ATVs for trail riding. That was news to me and made my continued search even more interesting. This was a Minnesota company taking on the Harley marketing machine.

(It also jogged my memory on the now defunct Excelsior-Henderson Motorcycle Company, also hailing from Minnesota, and the innumerable problems that brought down that promising company.)

From the Polaris perspective, motorcycles make sense. Snowmobiles are a great market, but they are limited geographically and they are limited to the winter season. ATVs help break out of geographic and seasonal limitations, but they are off-road and specialty use only. Polaris knows a thing or two about building a solid small displacement engine, so motorcycles are a natural extension.

Beyond the manufacturing efficiencies and expertise, here’s where the market dynamics get interesting.

Motorcycles, as a market, can be sliced up into four major sub-markets:

• “Standard” bikes—utilitarian, but not scooters—from $2,700 to $4,000 and 50cc to 250cc
• “Performance” bikes—or “crotch rockets”—from $5,000 to $6,000 and 251cc to 1200cc and up
• “Touring” bikes—the cross-country models, built for comfort—from $10,000 to $18,000 and 251cc to 1200cc and up
• “Custom” bikes—Harley’s main playground—from $12,000 to $25,000 and 251cc to 1200cc and up

Victory does not compete in every market, just the most profitable ones—upper-end touring and custom motorcycles. Right up against Harley-Davidson. Without fear.

That upper-end market is a perfect choice for Victory as a small manufacturer and also proves to be a market with lots of room for cannibalization (even in a rough motorcycle economy).

Okay. So Victory chose the correct segment. But will anyone buy the bikes?

To help answer that question, we need to look at the changing demographics of the motorcycle buyer. In 1985, the median age of a motorcycle buyer was 27.1. He was male (almost 100 percent of the buyers). He was unlikely to have attended college and, if he did, he did not complete any sort of degree. His average income (adjusted for inflation) was $25,600.

Fast forward 20 years. The median age is now 40.1. But it is not just that the average buyer got older—the whole segment grew. One in 10 owners is female. One in 10 owners has a master’s or doctorate degree. The average income has more than doubled to $55,850.

Wow.

Think they can’t afford high-end bikes? Think again.

So, let’s quickly summarize.

Smart move number one: Victory has the guts to go head-to-head with Harley-Davidson (and to a lesser extent, BMW and Honda) in its most profitable segment. Smart move number two: Victory has the buyer-psychology understanding to put an emphasis on performance and reliability, using its manufacturing expertise to bolster its position. Smart move number three: Victory has the pulse on the new demographic, understanding the importance of style to attract a new type of buyer.

Despite that, Victory has a small (albeit devoted) community of owners.

What is holding it back? The Victory brand position could use some work.

To come full circle to the ad I described earlier, Victory described more clearly what it is not (a Harley), much more clearly than what it is. A comparison is an interesting ad strategy and certainly highlights points of difference, but even when you are smart enough not to mention your competitor directly, your advertising simply serves to remind your buyer of its more-popular option.

It is time for Victory to step up. It has to define what “Victory” stands for. Not what a Victory motorcycle is better than, but what it means to ride one.

And I think the current recession is a perfect opportunity. Buyers are scrutinizing and rethinking their purchases. If there is any chink in the Harley armor, it is its own success. Harley has become what its brand initially rebelled against. Harley is popular. Almost commonplace. Certainly a bit watered down.

There is always a place in the market for the new rebel. The new symbol of counter-culture on the roads. A new symbol for status and style.

That strategy may not get Victory to 25 percent of the market, like Harley enjoys, but it’s a start.

Nothing against Harley, but I’m rooting for “victory” for the home team.

Related links:

Victory Motorcycles

A Very Important Ad in a Very Ordinary Campaign

Key points:

1. Even in an age of geckos and cartoon crime fighters, most insurance ad campaigns are pretty boring. Nationwide’s latest blitz is no exception.

2. However, one ad in the series—featuring an blind employee with Asperger’s syndrome— stands out and breaks through.

3. Some may make the argument that his disabilities are distracting, but I contend Nationwide made a smart and courageous choice to reach their target audience.

Aside from geckos and cavemen, insurance advertising is pretty boring.

That’s especially true if you happen to be one of the old-line insurance firms. Nationwide Insurance, and its latest broadcast campaign, certainly falls into that category.

The television spots feature actual Nationwide employees—adjusters, agents, and claims reps—in a effort to reinforce the overall brand position of the company (who’s “on your side”) with the actual people who are “on your side.” The “making it real” approach, as it were.

The employees relate stories about how Nationwide contributes to its communities, is ready to forgive an mistake (such as an accident or moving violation), and even has its own iPhone app.

Yawn.

Where have we seen this before? Let me count the campaigns: All State. American Family. Travelers. State Farm. New York Life. The Hartford. Remarkably unremarkable.

Except for one ad. One very important ad.

This particular ad features Nationwide employee Michael Piccerello. In his 30-second spot, he discusses how he sees customer complaints as opportunities to improve his organization. He tells us that he is there to listen and then to see what he can do to make it right.

From my description (and without seeing the ad), you might be inclined to think that what makes this ad so important is that he is admitting the obvious: Nationwide, as a big insurance company, is going to screw up sometimes, and their call center folks see those as chance to improve, rather than assign blame. It’s refreshing to hear a company actually come clean.

That’s a good reason, but that’s not it.

When you see the commercial, you see that Michael Piccerello is blind. (The camera pans down so that you can see his service dog.) Additionally, he has Asperger’s syndrome, a form of high-functioning autism.

The ad takes you aback the first time you watch it.

We are simply not accustomed to seeing people with disabilities—especially mental disabilities—in a public role outside of the context of their disability. Let me put it another way. Michael is not talking about Nationwide’s services for people who have lost their sight. He is also not talking about Nationwide’s acceptance and hiring of people with Asperger’s. Rather, he is communicating an over-arching advertising message for his firm.

That’s what makes this ad so very unique.

It is one of the very first of its kind. A national campaign, featuring someone with physical and mental disabilities, whose primary message to us is not related to the disabilities themselves.

Nevertheless, it took great courage for Nationwide to take this step.

Because right under the surface—right under the veneer of civility—we see what some people are really thinking. In the blogosphere, without fear of personal identification and reprisal, we see just how ugly and vile people can be. I’ll let you read a few of the posts I found related to this specific ad yourself, but be warned, you may be disturbed by what you read.

However, in the interest of rhetorical criticism, I must address their underlying argument. Subtracting the profanity, crudeness, and epithets, it is summarized as follows: Michael Piccerello, and his obvious visible physical disabilities, distracts from the message Nationwide tries to communicate. Instead of leaving with the important and humble message of a company that makes mistakes, but will work to correct them, you are left fixated on Michael the person. Whatever your feelings may be towards him, those feelings will not relate to the core message of the campaign. Hence, the ad is a failure.

For some portions of the viewing audience, that argument may have some validity.

But I would make a different argument.

The purpose of advertising—good advertising—is to break our complacency. Otherwise, the ad is likely to fall into the background noise of an otherwise over-cluttered media landscape, where many of us simply tune out or TiVo through it. Advertising can shock us, it can make us laugh, it can make us angry, but in order to communicate, it cannot be boring. Michael makes us pay attention.

But what of the argument that Michael’s disabilities would distract us from he core message? Yes, the ad “shocks” us, but doesn’t it fail to communicate the real message? I would say “no.” The ad’s message will strike home with the correct audience.

Think about the target market for a moment. This person is 40 years old plus. This person is likely to have a spouse, children, a home, and more than one car. In the insurance business, that’s a gold-mine: Life insurance, college-savings plans, homeowners insurance, retirement investments, and auto insurance. This is also a person who has seen enough of life to grow out of childish snickering at the sight of a person with disabilities. This person has likely worked with such a person, or been part of a PTA organization with such a person, or been taught by such a person in graduate school. In other words, they may be “surprised” to see Michael in an ad but they don’t see him the same way those young bloggers do. To them, he is authentic. He makes you listen.

If we look deeper into the life experience of the people critical of Nationwide’s decision (from what they share publicly), we see they are not quite at the point in their lives where they are likely to see people with disabilities outside of the context of a special-education classroom.

Is that to say all young people feel the same way? Goodness, no. Is that to say all people over 30 have matured beyond that narrow perspective? Sadly, no.

But it does mean that Nationwide made a smart move by selected Michael. He can break through the clutter. And that’s what makes him, and this ad, special.

Related links:

Watch the Nationwide Ad

We still have a long ways to go:

http://www.diaryoffools.com/2009/05/advertising-sucks-vol-1.html

http://godfatherweilhammer.blogspot.com/search?q=michael

http://www.belch.com/blog/2009/05/27/what-happened-to-googley-eyed-blind-guys-wearing-sunglasses/

Gillette Children’s Hospital

The Canteen: Disruptive Re-innovation

Key points:

1. Plastic water bottles are an undeniable environmental disaster, contributing tons of plastic each year to the Texas-size Pacific Garbage Patch.

2. Bottlers have an incentive to fix the problem and save their $11 billion cash cow.

3. But canteens—repositioned as fashion accessories—are making a strong return and could eventually cannibalize 30 to 40 percent of the market.

In the middle of the northern Pacific Ocean, the currents converge just right.

They form a giant loop of swirling water, attracting floating debris from the entire Pacific basin into just one spot. In the middle of this immense area of ocean is a growing island of floating garbage twice the size of Texas. It is a sea of unbelievable foulness filled with all manner of trash from North America, Russia, Japan, China, and Southeast Asia. And it’s growing.

By far one of the biggest contributors: the plastic water bottle.

Since the early 1990s, when the plastic water bottle became popular, billions upon billions have been manufactured. In the early days, virtually none were recycled. Many ended up in landfills, but countless more ended up in the Pacific drainage basin, eventually making their way into the Pacific Garbage Patch.

But we recycle them now, don’t we? Well, largely, no. Industry estimates suggest that only 12 to 15 percent ever make it to a capable facility. And that number is good compared to the rest of the Pacific Rim nations.

For bottlers, growing concern over the Pacific Garbage Patch (as well as a host of other environmental and business issues) is a big deal.

In the United States alone, bottled water accounts for a staggering $11 billion slice of the drink market. The average American consumed 28.3 gallons of it last year alone, making it the second-most consumed beverage, after only soft drinks.

Big players Coca-Cola, Nestle, and Pepsico have a profound interest in not allowing environmental concerns (and new concerns regarding the leaching of petro-chemicals into your water bottle while temperature cycling in transit) to derail this cash cow.

To respond, what has industry done? A few things: Bottlers have begun to reduce the overall amount of plastic used to make the bottle itself. This is good for the economics of the business, doesn’t hurt the drinking experience, and makes bottles easier to recycle. Some bottlers are experimenting with bottles made from corn-plastic instead of petroleum. A very interesting idea, but given ethanol’s run-in with the food/fuel debate, I suspect this particular technology may be short-lived. Other ideas involve creating easily degradable “bottles”—designed to decompose safely in landfills and water tables (or better yet, provide microbial nutrients as they do so). Very cool.

However, the biggest “threat” to the bottlers and their market is not necessarily a new idea, but a very old one: the canteen.

Oddly enough, the rise of the canteen as a viable competitor to disposable plastic water bottles is considered disruptive innovation. (Or, perhaps more appropriately, “disruptive re-innovation”).

The modern canteen is a holdover from colonial times and recent military history. Popular for backpackers and weekend adventurers up until the 1980s, the canteen fell out of favor as disposable plastic bottles became cheaper and more prevalent. In a world where every state park has a vending machine, why carry a canteen?

The current ecological climate is setting the stage for the rebirth of the canteen as a popular (and not a niche) option, but brand positioning will take it the rest of the way. Let’s briefly explore a few of the key planks in the positioning platform.

The first is a raw and rational economic argument. In some places (the Disney grounds come to mind), a bottle of water can cost $3. At the vending machine, perhaps $1.50. Even in the grocery store, you can hardly do better than 20 cents. At an average of one water bottle per day (hardly a stretch), that’s a range of $76 to $1,095 per year—with the median number somewhere around $250. Yikes. A good canteen will run you $30 to $40. Once. That’s a good ROI.

The second is the obvious ecological argument. The canteen (made with an inert inner wall of aluminum) is inherently safer than plastic, washable, and re-usable. In many models, one you get tired of it, the metals are sought by recyclers and easily converted into something else. No more trash.

These are great reasons, of course, but they are nothing compared to aesthetic appeal. The smartest canteen makers are reincarnating the canteen as a sexy status symbol—a wearable icon of ruggedness, environmental stewardship, and fashion for men, women, and children of all ages.

Of all the reasons canteens—I think—will take off, I’ll put my money on sex appeal every time.

Now all that said, the humble canteen has a long way to go to break entrenched habits. However, a good guess is that they could peel away 20 to 30 percent of the water bottle market in the United States. That’s $3.5 billion to $4 billion per year. Or about 80 million units.

That might seem like a lot, but who thought we’d ever buy tap water in a bottle?

Stranger things have happened. Let’s hope this one does too.

Related links:

US Canteen

Watching Weight Watchers

Key Points:

1. Conventional wisdom tells us the down economy should negatively impact Weight Watchers International and businesses in its category.

2. However, Weight Watchers has positioned itself ideally in the public mind and within the medical community.

3. When the time comes (sooner than we think) for sliding-scale, health-impact pricing, Weight Watchers will benefit from insurance plans that adjust premiums based on health metrics.

We all know what is supposed to happen in a “down” economy.

We all know discretionary purchases will take a hit. We all know recurring monthly fees in the household budget will get another look. We all know people will forgo expensive healthy food in favor of cheaper options and greasy comfort food.

Apparently, investors and analysts also know those things and have pummeled Weight Watchers International stock (NYSE:WTW) over the past six months; it’s down some 40 percent.

All of that begs the question: Are the analysts correct?

Perhaps. First, Weight Watchers serves a “discretionary” niche market. Diet plans—as a segment—do well when the economy does well. As people have extra money, and also feel secure in their finances, they are more likely to engage in self-actualization behaviors. Weight loss is one of those. While we might think weight loss is a goal for many people, trend watchers know that in a macroeconomic sense, we need to be in a good collective mood to get started.

That feeling of psychological stress that comes from a tough economy leads directly to the second reason the Wall Street intelligentsia is down on WTW. Discretionary income issues aside, when people are stressed, they head to comfort foods. Those same analysts have boosted the stocks for snack cakes, fast food, and soft drinks.

Finally (and perhaps some consolation to the Weight Watchers board of directors), many major stocks are in the tank, and many for little or no good reason.

Let’s stop there for a moment. Does this just seem like a more detailed recitation of what we all know? Aren’t the analysts supposed to know things we don’t know?

Do we need to look a bit deeper? Perhaps beyond what we know?

I think we do. Three things come to mind in this case: The first relies on business fundamentals, the second on brand positioning, and the third on a fundamental shift in the health insurance business model.

Let’s start (briefly) at the beginning.

Founded in 1963 by Brooklyn homemaker Jean Nidetch, the now-public Weight Watchers International employs over 45,000 people in over 30 countries. Back then, we really didn’t measure BMI (body mass index) as a public health metric, and few outside of the medical community understood the technical definition of “obese.” Those were the days before TV dinners and before McDonald’s hit every street corner.

Weight Watchers clearly was ahead of its time. The 1960s and 1970s saw an explosion in food choices—few for the better. Without good ways to understand how these new options impacted health and weight, people were unprepared for the consequences of a fast-food lifestyle.

Weight Watchers taught people how to eat. It invented a points system as an easy way for the average person to keep track of food intake. It borrowed the “group approach” that was so successful as a treatment model at AA and refined it for its use. It built a community of “Lifetime Members” who no longer pay to belong, but continue to return and encourage new members.

Fad diets come and go, but the Weight Watchers formula simply worked. In other words: good fundamentals.

Let’s move on to a quick market positioning analysis. In my simple example, place “importance of group meetings” on one axis and “focus on selling food” on the other. Weight Watchers “owns” the space where the group is very important, but selling food is less important. That is, as opposed to a program such as “Jenny Craig,” where group meetings are less important and purchasing food is very important. That’s not to say that you cannot follow Weight Watchers alone (you can, online), or that you cannot buy Weight Watchers branded food products (you can, in any grocery store). But the company understands—through its history—what the most effective formula is. And it monopolizes that market position. No one else can touch it there.

So what does this have to do with the future of the company? Here’s where it gets interesting.

The academic and physician community also believes Weight Watchers has the right formula. It knows that a diet that focuses on forcing people to eat a specific diet, or pre-prescribed food, is doomed to fail for most people in the long run. It also knows the psychological impact of the group on initial motivation and long-term success.

We all know the cost of health care is too high. And it is only going higher. And a national obesity epidemic is making the problem markedly worse.

In an effort to begin trimming costs, health plans have begun to experiment with health-impact pricing. Yes, we’ve seen this before. If you are a smoker, you might pay a higher rate. On the positive reinforcement side, you may get a discount to belong to —and regularly attend—your local health club.

But what I am referring to is a much more specific future. Imagine a scenario in which a health plan takes a look at more than just age and basic family history. Imagine a sliding scale of pricing based on weight, height, BMI, cholesterol, fasting blood sugar, and about 10 other blood chemistry metrics. These factors can be a powerful predictor of cost in the health care system, and health plans will need to do something about it.

With some of the “buy-it-on-your-own” plans, that day has already arrived. It is coming fast for the rest of us.

So, in that brave new world where your health plan will begin charging you for an out-of-whack BMI, consumers will have a direct financial incentive to do something about it.

And what company already has the credibility within the general public as well as the medical community to make that happen? Or, more to the point, which company has already positioned itself to be ready for the inevitable?

You already know the answer: Weight Watchers.

Related Links:

Weight Watchers International
NYSE: WTW