Rule #1: They don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. (Attributed to many sources including Theodore Roosevelt and Martin Luther King Jr.)
Rule #2:
It’s not about what you say; it’s about what they hear.
Rule #3:
Fast. Short. Meaningful.
Rule #4:
An incomplete solution now is better than a complete solution later.
Rule #5:
Instead of giving a lecture, tell a story.
Rule #6:
You can’t educate ’em if you don’t entertain ’em first.
Rule #7:
You can keep your audience busy with quotes and retweets. But to build an audience, you need to be original.
Rule #8: Of course you’re there to sell. But your audience isn’t necessarily there to buy. Remember it and respect it.
Rule #9: One sales pitch for every 20 pieces of non-selling content. Maximum. And that’s if your content is really good.
“… In a world with many media choices, consumers are actively selecting what content is meaningful to them and circulating it consciously to people they think may be interested. They are deploying media content as gifts for their personal networks, as resources for ongoing conversations. Until marketers understand [this], they are doomed to insult and alienate the very people they are hoping to attract.”
According to B2B magazine, ABM, the trade association for the business-to-business trade press, held a series of panel discussions recently in which participants declared that print isn’t dead.
Wouldn’t we expect them to say that? Of the four pro-print souls mentioned in the article, three of them still make their living by running, editing or selling for print magazines.
I’m not arguing their point either; I believe print is a vitally important communications vehicle and somehow will remain so in the future.
What’s notable in this discussion is the reasoning offered by the fourth panelist, Bob Drake, who runs Drake Creative agency. He said that a recent ad campaign that included a print component succeeded. He’s quoted by B2B as saying, “It goes against everything we’re hearing, but we can engage people for a long period of time (in print) and they stay engaged.”
I don’t know Bob Drake, and I don’t mean to pick on him. But if he’s hearing that print doesn’t work, then he’s talking to other marketers and not to marketees.
Marketers are abandoning print because it’s harder to measure as a marketing vehicle than Internet-based technologies. This is undeniably true. But at some point, that legitimate objection got simplified to the assumption that print is broken, which has been simplified even further to the notion that print is dead.
But if you ask readers, that’s not even close to the truth. The same article cited a poll by Roads & Bridges magazine (conducted by Internet, ironically enough) that indicated a strong preference among its audience for getting information via print. This is consistent with every bit of research and opinion I’ve ever seen. People prefer reading words on paper – especially glossy paper with charts and pictures.
The point? Like everyone else, marketers are susceptible to the echo-chamber effect. Print isn’t in trouble because it doesn’t work; it’s in trouble because shorthand communications of marketers obscure the nuance that is the truth.
A new study by the IBM Institute for Business Value concludes that the troubles faced by traditional media aren’t going to go away when the recovery picks up steam.
The study, according to a report by BtoB magazine, concludes that as more and more people move online to get their information, advertisers aren’t willing to pay as much to reach them. Why? Presumably because these prospects become easier for the advertisers to reach – a conclusion that’s hinted at by the study’s other finding: that advertisers are willing to pay some kind of premium based on context and relevance of the audience.
This is nothing new to readers of this blog. But it’s a big stick in the eye for B2B media types who still think their future will be secured simply by providing great content.
In a recent article in Media Business magazine, Glenn Hansen, president and CEO of BPA (the dominant auditor of controlled circulation media) said this about his organization’s website auditing service:
“Our numbers are going to be lower than any other numbers that you get from any other source, whether Google or any commercial Web-analytics company.”
Add some coal-tar?
It’s impossible to tell from the article, but I infer that he was proud of this.
Several years ago – the last time I seriously looked into auditing websites – my research told me that I could expect a 50% drop in reportable traffic by doing a BPA web audit. At the time, my company was using an analytics tool that, when implemented, had already cut traffic 33% by weeding out search engine spiders.
In the end, I didn’t need the BPA audit, and I sold around the numbers delivered by our analytics system by focusing on products that gave customers what they were asking for: guaranteed impressions, delivery of clickthroughs, and various levels of leads. When we did these things, the prospects didn’t worry if we had the largest or busiest website.
It’s natural that BPA, like any auditor, would seek to extend its product line by pushing website audits. But boasting about the great difference between BPA’s traffic measurement and those of other analytic systems demonstrates that BPA is as far away as ever from understanding the grim future that it faces.
The problem BPA members are having is that an audit – whether it’s for a print product or a website – addresses advertiser questions that are now obsolete. Not all advertisers have figured this out yet, but the number that has is growing. A recession hastens the education process, as marketers are forced to coax more measurable impact out of a reduced spend.
An audit is testimony to the nature of a media outlet’s audience: it’s size, the sources from which it was recruited, and any additional information that members of the audience themselves volunteer to offer.
That’s not what advertisers want – or ever really wanted. What they really want is a measured response to their marketing activities. The audit always fell short of that goal. Whether any of us knew it, the circulation audit was just a long-term stop-gap – an alternative set of metrics until technology created a way for the desired metrics to be used.
Today that technology exists. It’s called the Internet, and advertisers (if you haven’t heard) are swarming to it.
BPA hopes to secure some kind of future for itself by pushing website audit services. But those services aren’t necessary, because advertisers can get all the measurement they want with intelligent programs that generate clickthroughs and other direct responses. And unlike audits, which provide a snapshot that is 6 to 12 months old, clickthroughs and leads arrive in real time. Within 30 days, an average marketer can tell if he or she is getting an adequate return from a specific program.
Worse, not only is BPA measuring the wrong stuff in its website audits, it’s bragging that the numbers members will be compelled to report are well below the numbers that non-members get to use.
To summarize: It provides undesirable information that people don’t need. I can’t help comparing it to Burger King putting a dollop of coal-tar on it’s bacon triple cheeseburger.
If there is ROI in this for the publisher, will somebody please help me understand?
I don’t know why anyone bothers with a BPA website audit; if I were a buyer, it would be an immediate sign to me that the website’s owners are slow to understand or respond to the customers’ changing needs. The best thing a BPA web audit could tell me is to look elsewhere.
At some level, though, this shouldn’t be a surprise; the two bride titles are simply maids of honor to Brides magazine – also owned by Condé Nast. Elegant Bride, with 150,000 total circulation is a niche magazine for those who plan to buy luxury weddings. Modern Bride, with 335,000 total circulation, is positioned as the hip, fun and stylish magazine in the segment. Brides is simply the No. 1 with 340,000 total circulation and, notably, a network of local/regional bridal magazines.
Once upon a time, this kind of segmenting made sense. It assured the perfect fit for every possible advertiser, and many of those advertisers – given a little incentive – could find reason to buy into multiple titles.
I don’t have any idea how many of its bridal advertisers are still buying in multiple titles; I’m sure it’s a lot – but I’m also sure it’s not as many as a few years ago. Much of that piggyback revenue will be hard to replace. That’s why company executives needed a third-party consultant to tell them what they already knew: In today’s environment, it’s no longer economical for a magazine publisher to serve a category both horizontally and vertically.
Casting away two out of three heritage brands is scary, and some observers are already beating up the company for the decision. But I’m guessing that the publishers (Modern down 21 percent this year and Elegant down 32 percent) were already getting early reports of a continued bloodbath in 2010, as more advertisers rationalize their purchases across a few broad-based titles per category. If Condé Nast hadn’t made this gutsy call now, then its recession would simply drag on into next year.
By consolidating all bridal business into Brides, Condé Nast undoubtedly gives up a lot of revenue, but it also reduces a lot of expense. And what it gains is the ability to focus all development efforts on the one brand that is already recognized as the industry leader and that already encompasses all bridal niches. In fact, the company has said it plans to double Brides‘ frequency to 12x.
The recipe is pretty much the same for Gourmet – which has a rate base of 950,000, compared to Bon Appetit (also owned by Condé Nast) with 1.3 million.
The company has probably had an increasingly difficult time justifying a two-book buy to its advertisers and has been told that it needs to make their ad buys simpler and more cost-effective.
Cookie is probably a different situation altogether. It’s a lifestyle magazine for the modern mother – a category that would overlap with parenting titles, women’s titles and shopping titles (of which Condé Nast closed one, Domino, early this year). It’s a hyper-competitive category and, founded just four years ago, Cookie (total circ: 550,000) probably never had a chance to develop its own secure presence in the shrinking marketplace. Other titles in the Condé Nast portfolio include Vogue, W, Glamour, Allure, Self and Lucky.
I’m not giving up on Twitter. Yet. There are still a handful of people whose Tweets are interesting and useful to me.
But it’s a stupid game.
It has nothing to do with how much you have to say or how often you say it. It has everything to do with how many people you follow. I recently attended a webcast on how to build a social network on Twitter. The basic advice: follow a lot of people and they’ll follow you back. And if they don’t follow you back, unfollow them.
The rest of the session was inside ball: what rules Twitter uses to prevent such inanity and how to get around them (wait 24 hours before unfollowing anyone); how to identify non-followers quickly using Twitter’s minimalist interface (if you don’t have a direct-message option next to their name, they aren’t following you); and which tools you can use (Hummingbird, $197.00) to automatically follow people and then unfollow them if they fail to reciprocate.
By using this advice (not the software; just the advice) I tripled the number of people following me (from about 100 people after 4 months of thoughtful tweeting to 300 people after another day and just one tweet). Time spent in the effort: 15 minutes.
The etiquette at Twitter is simple: Someone follows you, you follow them back. And vice versa.
How this does anyone any good is beyond me; it assures that you have an audience of people who don’t give a wit about anything you have to say. And vice versa.
To prove the point, I just got a follow from someone whose list of followers and followees at this moment is in the range of 34,000. She has 14 tweets since May (4 months).
Fourteen? Really? That’s 1,960 characters, which isn’t even a respectable dependent clause to William Faulkner. That’s like 17 followers per word. If Jesus had a ratio like that, would Islam even exist?
When in history have so many people lined up to listen to so many people with so little to say?
Well, yes. If you have bad content then it doesn’t matter how many people come to see it. Consider this visual from Mark Smiciklas.
From Intersectionconsulting.com
Wait, it’s worse than that. If you have bad content, then the more people who see it, the worse off you are. Because now you’re simply broadcasting the fact that you suck.
I would argue you’re better off with great content that only a few people see — because at least those few people will have good things to say about you.
About 10 years ago, I was involved in a magazine that was all about business-to-business commerce. Our readers were intently trying to build e-commerce platforms that would increase the velocity of their business; our advertisers were trying to sell them 7-figure solutions to do so. But the discipline was in its frontier days, and much of what they were doing was first-generation inadequate.
The problem wasn’t that the e-commerce systems failed. It’s that everything else was built for a slower world. Warehouses weren’t organized well enough to handle the high-speed demands of e-commerce. Inventory wasn’t well-enough planned to keep fast-moving items in stock. Shipping contracts didn’t include the kind of pick-up and delivery guarantees that e-commerce requires.
Companies could take the orders with lightning speed, but then the old, slow processes took over.
Which resulted in what became known (at least in my own head) as Rosenbaum’s Law: Enabling e-commerce at a company with bad processes merely makes those bad processes apparent at a much higher speed to a much larger number of people.
The point: Make sure you have something intelligent and/or compelling to say.
Then communicate it.
Then — and only then — promote the heck out of it.
There is an entire industry of consultants that didn’t exist three years ago, telling people how to collect thousands of followers on Twitter; how to gain friends and fans on Facebook; and how to leverage large networks on LinkedIn. These consultants are writing books, conducting web-seminars and selling services.
The thing that gets too little attention is what all this is worth? Sure, you can grab a small nation’s worth of Twitter followers, but will it make you any money if they aren’t paying attention to your Tweets?
It would be nice if there were a few key metrics and some nice neat formulas you could follow, but social media is evolving too quickly and the measurements aren’t that simple.
In the end, if you want to know whether your time with social media is well spent, you need to do the following:
Set a meaningful goal. Is the purpose of your social media outreach simply to gain followers? Then you’ll have an easy time measuring, and a hard time proving that the effort was worthwhile. Instead, set a more specific goal, like this: To generate sales of $XXX (or X number of sales transactions) from members of our social media network.
That way, you’ll not only have a pass/fail measurement, you’ll learn something important along the way: i.e., how many new connections it takes to achieve a sale.
Assign specific tasks. If more than one person is going to be involved in the social media effort, make sure that each person knows his or her specific role. For instance, one person might conduct the outbound communications while another works to convert inbound communications into leads, and still another works to close sales.
This way, the entire job will get done — not just the fun part of blogging and tweeting. Further, when things don’t go perfectly (they won’t), you’ll have a team of experts who can figure out what adjustments to make.
Track everything. Time is money. So while social media programs are astonishingly inexpensive in terms of hard cost, you’ll want to know how much of each day your team members are spending on social media vs. their other responsibilities.
If you do these three things, then measuring gets easy. If you have goals, an organized work effort and good data, determining whether your resources are well-spent will be easy. Just like the example of Reality Digital, also from Computerworld.
Journalists are historically thick about the notion that they are part of a business model; that they are employed not so much for the public good but because somebody has figured out how to make more money from their work than it costs to produce. That thickness is part of what makes them good at what they do; good journalists tend to follow the trail of information regardless of how they fit into someone else’s profit motive. It’s also why the outsider complaint — “The reporter only wrote that story to sell papers” — never gets any traction.
But the business model under which most journalists have always worked is under attack right now, and that’s changing the very basics of the job: who wants to hire them, what the job requires, and how much it pays.
In recent good times, a newspaper would bring in about $1.35 in revenue for every $1 spent to run the place. That includes such inelastic expenses as distribution and printing. If you eliminate those expenses from the equation (which an economist wouldn’t do, but this is a journalist-centric view, in which the value of a newspaper to its readers and advertisers is directly proportional to the quality of its reportage) then the economic value of a journalist is at least 1.35 times salary and benefits.
But in times like this, newspaper profits are down — which means the economic value of journalists is down too. The work of the newsroom simply produces less profit so, therefore, the value of each person in that newsroom is less.
But when profits continue to drop, people start to lose their jobs. And despite what journalists like to think about their value, cutting reporters and editors usually stops the bleeding pretty quickly. That’s because producing news isn’t the same as producing, say, cars or other manufactured goods.
If you cut people from the auto assembly line, you can’t make as many cars. Which means you can’t sell as many cars. In a recession, that’s OK because fewer people want to buy those cars anyway; jobs get cut because there’s an imbalance between supply and demand.
But in media, you can cut an untold number of reporters and editors without actually reducing output (Journalism jobs decrease 34% Jan 08-Jun 09). The quality of the reporting might suffer; graphics might not be as well thought-out; typos and errors may increase. But the audience still gets the same quantity of news, and the advertisers still get the same audience.
When a recession ends, a car manufacturer can’t sell more cars unless it hires back workers to increase production. But a newspaper can see advertising revenues increase at the end of a recession regardless of whether it puts more people back into the newsroom. That’s why financial and spreadsheet types like investing in media; the correlation between employment and profit is indirect enough that they can choose to ignore it.
This can go on for a long time, and it has. Eventually, people start saying things like, “That newspaper is just a shadow of its former self.” And any rational explanation about declining profitability should include the long-term effect of decreasing quality and comprehensiveness.
But that’s simply not the entire reason newspapers, magazines, radio and TV are struggling; I’d argue it’s not even a major factor — just a bad symptom.
The real reason is competition. Years ago, a major metropolitan morning newspaper’s only competition was the afternoon paper. (Remember, the competition isn’t for readers; it’s for advertising revenue). Then came radio, television, cable television, city magazines, alternative weeklies, etc. They may all serve readers differently, but their money comes from the same pot of regional advertisers. More recently, add Google Ad Words, online magazines such as Slate and Huffington Post, bloggers like Matt Drudge, social networking like Facebook and Twitter, and dozens of other business models I can’t even think of. The one thing all of these have in common is that they demand a piece of the same marketing budgets that are the financial foundation of newspapers.
Many of these newer organizations pay journalists — but none pay as much for as many journalists as did the old-line media. So not only do newspapers have more competition, journalists have more competition.
All of which is a roundabout way of saying I’m not patient enough to calculate the actual economic value of a journalist. But the following items seem clear:
Economic value and social value are separate issues.
Old-line business models that see the industry’s decline as merely a function of journalism’s decline somehow seem angry and not very realistic. Our Hometown News, Strongsville, OH
But the decline in value wasn’t caused by the recession; it was caused by huge disruption of traditional business models that involve journalists. For example:
I’m pretty sure the economic value of journalists isn’t declining; it’s declined among media that follow traditional business models, but that’s being offset by new models and innovations that are only now starting to emerge.
In a move that startled almost everybody, 
The recipe is pretty much the same for Gourmet – which has a rate base of 950,000, compared to Bon Appetit (also owned by Condé Nast) with 1.3 million.
category and, founded just four years ago, Cookie (total circ: 550,000) probably never had a chance to develop its own secure presence in the shrinking marketplace. Other titles in the Condé Nast portfolio include Vogue, W, Glamour, Allure, Self and Lucky.