Consider two of the world's great brands: Nike and
Harley-Davidson.
Faced with the challenge of the long-established but arguably long-in-the-tooth German company Adidas, Phil Knight -- a true American original -- assembled a similarly minded group of West Coast rebels. Together they created a company like no other before or since.
From its beginnings, Nike reveled in its strangeness and proclaimed it publicly. (A memorable early ad showed several sloppily clad employees sprawled across the seats in an airport, while another depicted a fellow who appeared to be a refugee from Ken Kesey's Merry Pranksters, above the headline, "Our first employee is still with us. We think.")
Nike stayed true to those rebel beginnings. It ran commercials featuring Charles Barkley insisting he was not, and would not be, a role model -- a bold suggestion. They ran ads of the young Tiger Woods announcing he was ready for the world. But as a black golfer, he asked us back, "Are you ready for me?"
Harley never pretended to be something other than a Hog, a motorcycle you could barely budge if you turned one over. Harley never celebrated its endorsement by the Hell's Angels, but never shied from that connection, either.
When the Japanese invaded America with lighter bikes that flew down highways and flew out of dealerships, Harley stayed true to Harley. It remained authentic, cherishing its past. And as its brand inspired devotion, it reminded all of us of just how intense brand devotion can be -- if you are authentic.
In a memorable full-color, two-page spread advertisement, Harley showcased a familiar icon. It was a close-up photo of a thick, tanned male bicep emblazoned with a multicolored tattoo: the Harley logo. Below the photo a copywriter had crafted this memorable headline: "When was the last time you felt this passionately about anything?"
Like shoes and motorcycles, like us; we establish our brands in the world. We succeed only by being true to ourselves.
People have developed nearly faultless detectors for the fake and the contrived. You can fool some of them some of the time. But eventually, they figure it -- and you -- out.
A life in marketing confirms the wisdom of "To thine own self be true." Ultimately, it will feel more comfortable for you; you don't have to think about how you want to be seen. It works better for you, too: you earn trust and comfort, the keys to enduring relationships.
You have a brand. Make sure yours is honest.
What People Value
To see what people really value, watch when they put their money where their mouths are -- literally. Watch how they tip.
Repeated studies of restaurant guests show that people do not tip any more for perfectly efficient and extremely prompt service than they do for slightly flawed and relatively slow service.
Instead, people tip more when the wait person makes them feel good. If the person very briefly touches the diner, for example, the diner typically tips more. A warm smile, a "Hello again, Mr. Peters" or any other hint of "I like you" all elicit bigger tips, too.
When The New Yorker magazine recently reviewed these findings, one commentator announced that he was disturbed by them. Why do we refuse to pay more for "service quality," but will pay more for trivial little gestures of apparent friendship?
We pay more for those "trivial gestures" because they are not trivial; they are what we value in a service.
People value -- and pay more for -the way you make them feel.
How to Be Fascinating
A friend recently spoke to a colleague who had attended a party a week earlier. The day after the party, a woman to whom he had spoken sent him an email of thanks. "I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation," she wrote.
The next day the fellow learned that the woman had spoken to a mutual friend, and told her that this colleague was "a wonderful conversationalist. So interesting!"
Interesting, indeed.
The fellow said he spoke for not more than one minute. She had spoken the other 50.
Listening makes you captivating.
Our vocabulary constantly reveals how we think.
Consider what we say about talk:
"Talk is cheap." "That's mere rhetoric." "That's just a lot of verbiage."
Now listen to what else we say:
"Silence is golden."
These expressions reveal our beliefs: We think people speak too much and listen too little. We mistrust words, but we trust -- and praise -- listeners. "She's a great listener." "He really listened to me."
Businesses often run ads that feature the claim, "We listen." They assume we value their listening because it means that the company will hear what the client needs and will provide an excellent solution. Hence, "Better solutions through better listening."
These businesses and their ads miss most of the point. You can listen to clients and still be unclear what they want, not least of all because truly smart listening requires truly smart questioning. Not easy.
We don't value people who listen because they will respond with answers. When a friend listens to our issues with a another person, for example, we do not value that she responded with a suggestion. We value that she cared enough to listen.
Just hearing ourselves articulate our problems gives us clarity -- as modern psychology obviously realizes, from its emphasis on revelation-based therapy. As in that therapy, the speaker values not just the listener's answer, but the listener's attention. It is satisfying just to be heard.
Struck by the rapid rise of Ben Taylor, who came to America from Africa and soon was running a major Executrain franchise, an advice-seeker asked him his key to success. Without a split-second pause, Taylor answered, "I listen."
Some simple advice helped propel Ruth Ann Marshall to the top of her profession: the presidency of MasterCard International. When asked to reflect on her life's great lessons, Ruth recalled her mother's advice: "You have two ears and one mouth, Ruth Ann. That means you should listen twice as much as you speak."
Listen. Actively and often; always.
Like this newsletter? Want one for your own company?
Find out how.
Excerpts from Harry and Christine Clifford Beckwith's new book,
You: A Field Guide to Selling Yourself (Warner Books September 2006).
THE LIGHTER SIDE
See Capote. The feel-not-so-good movie of the fall season, but there are so many moments of genius here, and witnessing genius always seems like a good idea.
Read Christine Clifford Beckwith's new book, Your Guardian Angel's Gift. The feel-so-much-better book of the fall and winter.
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Harry Beckwith is the best-selling author of Selling
the Invisible, which has been named one of the top
ten business books of all time, with over 675,000
copies sold in 14 translations. He is also author of
The Invisible Touch and What Clients Love, which
have sold over 275,000 copies in 13 translations. He has been a keynote speaker for 14 Fortune 200 annual sales meetings and the National Speakers' Association convention, and has |
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made presentations in Europe, South America and Asia. He is
cited regularly in national media including CNN,
The Wall Street Journal, Business Week, Entrepreneur,
Crain's New York Business and numerous
American, European and Asian newspapers. A Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Stanford University, Harry resides in Minneapolis with his wife Christine Clifford Beckwith. He is the father of six children. |
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