You may have read Matt Fisher’s story about the tragic death of his sister and the response of her insurance company. My heart goes out to his family.
She had Progressive insurance and they refused to pay. Instead, the company paid to send a lawyer to coordinate a defense with the other driver–in other words, they paid their lawyers to go to court to prove that Matt’s deceased sister, their client, was at fault. They went to court against their client even though there was significant evidence to the contrary and even though the other driver’s insurance company (Nationwide) had already paid her family $25,000. The amount at stake: just $75,000.
Progressive’s weasely first response is here.
You can read Progressive’s more nuanced, but still doublespeak update here. They could have done the right thing from the start, or almost anywhere along the way, but never did, and they used fancy language to disguise that fact. Of course it’s not against state law for them to settle a case. And of course losing a jury trial is not the same as settling with the family.
If Progressive is proud of their tactics, they should say so. “We fight against claims to keep our costs low, saving you money.” But if they’re not proud, they should tell the truth, learn from it and apologize.
Like many people, I’m disgusted by their strategy, but my point here is this: if someone in your neighborhood used this approach, treating others this way, if a human with a face and a house and a reputation did it, they’d have to move away in shame. If a local businessperson did this, no one in town would ever do business there again.
Corporations (even though it’s possible that individuals working there might mean well) play a different game all too often. They bet on short memories and the healing power of marketing dollars, commercials and discounts. Employees are pushed to focus on bureaucratic policies and quarterly numbers, not a realization that individuals, not corporations, are responsible for what they do.
I hope all smart marketers realize just how dumb Progressive’s marketing has been. But what I really hope is that all smart humans will realize how misguided Progressive’s systems and lack of understanding are. And of course, it’s not just this one corporation, it’s the mindset.
Corporations don’t have to act like this. It’s people who can make them stop. Corporations aren’t people, people are people.
August 17, 2012
It might not be because you can't find the right answer.
It's almost certainly because you're asking the wrong question.
The more aggressively you redefine the problem, the more likely it is you're going to solve it.
The most successful people I know got that way by ignoring the race to find the elusive, there's-only-one-and-no-one-has-found-it right answer and instead had the guts to look at the infinite landscape of choices and pick a better problem instead.
August 16, 2012
It seems like the only thing you can be a figment of is someone's imagination.
Andy Warhol wanted the word FIGMENT etched on his tombstone. He understood that the only place he actually existed (and will exist forever) is in the imagination of other people.
No, the falling tree in the empty forest makes no noise, and your project or your brand doesn't exist except as a figment in someone else's imagination. The challenge, then, isn't to worry so much about what's happening in the real world, outside, but to work overtime to be sure you exist in the figment world, inside.
You don't need proof. You need belief. (HT to Rick Hyman).
August 15, 2012
Five or ten years ago, did people start saying, "I don't go to Yankees games any more–the stadium isn't noisy enough, and there aren't enough ads on the big screen TV?"
The new arena in Newark is purpose-designed to pump as much distortion-free sound into the seats as possible—and they're not afraid to use it at any opportunity.
Noise/music/distraction is as much a marketing choice as your logo or the coupons you use. When the harried clerk at the Delta counter starts yelling into the PA system, that's marketing as well.
The calculation (if it gets made at all) is a complex one. How will this investment in speakers and amps translate into increased attendance? (or sausage sales?)
When you turn the stadium into a real-life video game, when the audience can't hear the players or the skates on the ice, you will no doubt attract an audience—but they will be the drive-by masses, not the lifetime fans. The choice to delight the masses at the expense of the diehards seems easy in the short run, but it's ultimately crippling to the future of the brand.
There's no doubt that louder concerts make rock concert goers believe that the performance was better. But beyond that, have they done the math? [And yes, this series of questions probably applies to your project too, noise or no noise].
August 14, 2012
I recently heard from a TED speaker who was able to quote, verbatim, truly nasty comments people had posted about her talk.
And yet, I've never once met an author who said, "Well, my writing wasn't resonating, but then I read all the 1 star reviews on Amazon, took their criticism to heart and now I'm doing great…"
There are plenty of ways to get useful and constructive feedback. It starts with looking someone in the eye, with having a direct one on one conversation or email correspondence with a customer who cares. Forms, surveys, mass emails, tweets–none of this is going to do anything but depress you, confuse you (hey, half the audience wants one thing, the other half wants the opposite!) or paralyze you.
I'm arguing that it's a positive habit to deliberately insulate yourself from this feedback. Don't ask for it and don't look for it.
Yes, change what you make to enhance delight. No, don't punish yourself by listening to the mob.
August 13, 2012
In our commercial culture, it's easy to buy just about anything—except the things you really need.
Like a decision. (And the confidence to execute on it.)
Grace.
Persistence.
And one hundred other things that are valuable precisely because they can't be bought, can't be outsourced and don't appear precisely when needed.
August 12, 2012
Getting stuff to go viral is sexy. It's a miracle when it works. It makes you famous.
Everyone wants to get tweeted, liked, mentioned on a blog, spread by email and watch the numbers go up and up and up.
The thing is, drive-by viral traffic doesn't convert. 50,000 visitors might end up buying just 23 items.
Ultimately, if you want to get elected, make a sale or even change minds, you can't survive on viral traffic, no matter how big the tsunami is.
After I started talking about permission marketing, the question readers wanted answered was, "how do I get permission in the first place?" The answer was to create an ideavirus, an idea that spreads. And then, as it spreads, don't try to make a sale, merely work to earn the privilege of a follow up, the opportunity to reconnect over time. By email, sure, but phone or reputation are fine too.
Ten years later and the ego pendulum has clearly swung in the direction of the virus. That's what we brag about and what is too often measured.
How many eyeballs are passing by is a useless measure. All that matters is, "how many people want to hear from you tomorrow?"
Don't try to convert strangers into customers. It's ineffective and wasteful. Instead, focus on turning those momentary strangers into people eager to hear from you again and again.
Yes to spreading ideas. Two yesses to using those ideas to earn permission going forward.
August 11, 2012
Events scale. The magnitude of our impact and the impact of our decisions can vary wildly, depending on the stakes. You can decide which chocolate bar to buy or you can decide whether or not to take a job.
Our fear, though, can't scale. It doesn't work that way.
The screaming fear in your stomach before you give a speech to 12 kids in the fifth grade is precisely the same fear a presidential candidate feels before the final debate. The fight-or-flight reflex that speeds up your heart when you're about to get a speeding ticket you don't deserve isn't very different than the chemical reaction in the brain of an accused (but innocent) murder suspect when the jury walks in.
Bigger stakes can't lead to more fear.
And, in an interesting glitch, more fear often tricks us into thinking we're dealing with bigger stakes.
Not only that, but we have trouble overlapping our fearful moments. If that sales call is right down the street, you will probably put more anxiousness into the preparation for the meeting than if it's two plane rides and ferry away, because you'll be reserving some of your available agita for the transport.
Fear has very few gradations and it has a ceiling. We evolved to have an alert system that kept us alive, but while it's powerful, it's crude.
This is why we're able to teach ourselves to confidently give a speech to 10,000 or make life or death decisions in the battlefield. Fear is fear, and once we learn to work with it, we can scale the stakes.
All of which is a way to remind yourself that emotions kick in and then we start telling ourselves a story about how important/make-or-break/high stakes this next event is. Fear floods our brain with chemicals, we go on high alert and then rationalize that fear by describing just how vital this thing we're anxious about is.
No need to fool yourself. We all have a limited fear vocabulary, and it tends to yell.
Is to stand for something when you're here. Works for people, works for brands.
[When I say "missed when you're gone," I'm not talking about having a lot of people come to your funeral. I'm talking about creating a reputation where you get asked back, where people seek out your product, where a store or a conference or an agenda isn't complete without you.]
August 10, 2012
At the seminar I did in July for college students, we talked a lot about impresarios. (You can read one student’s take on it here).
Weave together resources and opportunities and put on a show. That’s what impresarios have always done. You rent the opera hall, find the singers and sell tickets. You see an opportunity, connect people who can benefit from it and make something happen.
I challenged the group, 20 strangers who had just met, to orchestrate an ebook of brainstorms and opportunities for their fellow students (and to finish it in just 80 minutes). Here’s a copy of their short ebook. 
The magic of the impresario opportunity is that it can start on the tiniest of scales. You can organize a lunch outing at work. You can start a bowling league. Over time, you can work up to a Kickstarter or a small association of fellow industry professionals. It’s not strategically difficult to imagine fifty ways you can use the resources you have right now to start something.
But actually becoming an impresario is far more difficult than it looks. Not because the systems aren’t in place, not because it’s not straightforward, but because it is fraught with risk. The risk that you’ll be called out for going against the grain and the risk that it might not work. We’ve spent so much time worrying about how hard things are that sometimes we overlook how easy today’s tools make it to actually create something.
And here’s the recording from the seminar I did in 2014: https://newlifetrick.site/2016/04/on-being-an-impresario/%3C/a%3E%3C/p%3E
August 9, 2012
