My sister Sharon, who knows I’ve recently been doing product naming work for a high-end chocolate brand (more on that when it’s public), sent me a link she said I needed to see. You can watch the embedded YouTube vid below. It’s an absolutely brilliant short film / advertorial by a Hamilton, Ontario student filmmaker Gemma Holdway. Watch for my favourite line in the ad: “It’s just chocolate!”
Watch this before reading further:
What I love about this
1) It’s clearly an ad, but it’s a heck of a lot of fun. Like the best viral ads you’ll see on Superbowl Sunday or in a Facebook link, it manages that tricky balance: it’s obviously designed to sell something – in this case chocolate – while at the same time keeping the content fresh and fun with great performances and a great little set-up.
2) It’s clearly targeted, but inclusive. It’s no secret that women are easily the richest target demographic for chocolate advertising. So this ad, and the contest that inspired it, are for, and all about, women. But yet, this ad also manages to be fresh and funny to everyone. Even me. And I’m the Russian judge.
3) It tells a great brand story. The narrative is what elevates this above “just chocolate” advertising. By casting the brand as the hero of a compelling, emotion-laden story, this effort soars above 98.65% (roughly) of product-focused chocolate advertising.
4) It’s not heavy-handed.Divine Chocolate makes no secret that it’s fair-trade and farmer-owned. And the tag line “Heavenly Chocolate with a heart” certainly implies this. But unlike a lot of green or “cause” brands, it doesn’t seem to take itself too seriously. And this video is nicely in that vein. I might quibble that the “fair trade” idea could have been subtly worked into the script (sweatshop kiss booths perhaps?) but maybe it’s better without it.
5) It Differs. A lazier agency dealing with the name “Divine Chocolate” would have gone with a more obvious angle – like a chocolate version of the ongoing Philly Cream Cheese “Little taste of Heaven” campaign (by Canada’s J. Walter Thompson). But since the name already says “Divine”, it works better to play on other aspects of the brand.
And how many hunky angels and simpering women characters does the world need? Really.
Settle down. Yes, the Differ screams louder than anyone when we think Twitter is screwing something up – like ReTweets for example. We’ve even resorted to plagiarism and forced rhyme (sorry again Dr. Zeuss). Love is like that. But this time, we’re willing to put the Crit aside, because while it ain’t perfect. The new Twitter.com interface is really really good.
In case you haven’t see it. Before I get to the 10 reasons to like the new Twitter, you probably don’t see it yet. Here’s the word from Twitter on why, and how you can get into the New Twitter cool kids as well. For now, you need to download and use their new iPhone or Android app – which is how I got in. But if that’s not for you, here’s a good summary.
1. Classy new icons.
I’m starting with the most superficial-seeming change not because I think it matters, but because it actually does matter. The new top bar icons are lovely and they just make sense.
Okay, not just that. They make sense and they are playfully different – particularly the whimsical little bird house and the little feather they inserted into the Compose New Tweet button. A clear signal that the bird is back.
They main ones are also left aligned, as opposed to having an empty “Search” box at the left. This means the home button is actually where you expect a home button to be – as well as doing what average users expect it to. But more on that later.
2. It’s not for me.
I don’t mean that I don’t like it – I’ve already said that I do. I mean that new Twitter is not designed for power users like meor Gizmodo, it’s designed for those ordinary people who sign up for an account, and their first few Tweets look like this:
“Trying out this Twitter thing!” “Not getting the hype.” “Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?”
Seriously, you remember your first time? Unless you already had a tribe of active Twitter friends, the experience was pretty cold and dark. The new interface means that a couple of exploratory clicks will reward even the most green Tweeter with real, rich content. This is bound to improve the all important new user retention factor by giving people a reason to stick around.
3. Main section 1: Home
Once you click on that little birdhouse, this page has all the same stuff as the old “Home” button but the big change is that, as with all the new pages, the left navigation makes the whole thing make more sense as a home page.
4. Main section 2: Connect
The best part of this is the ability to distinguish between “Mentions” – who’s using your @ handle – and “Interactions” – the mentions plus all the followed / retweeted stuff that has recently been clogging all of our timelines. Love the ability to opt in or out of these.
The worst part is that DM Messages don’t appear here, which is what you’d expect. Instead they’re under the profile icon on the right hand side.
A better way to organize this would be to have the Connect page have Mentions as the default (since that’s what most people open our Twitter pages to see), then allow people to add or remove Interactions and Messages from the left hand navigation. Three options with Simple Check boxes should do it.
5. Main section 3: Discover
This is the main net-new section of the new twitter, and it is BRILLIANT. On the right you’ll see the different elements it brings together. All of which were in odd, non-intuitive places in the old interface. But now they’re grouped as one place to dig into Twitter beyond your own current followers, follows, and streams.
The stickiest part for me right now is Stories – which contains clips of media news items and blog posts that are selected for me based on my interests and how much discussion they’re generating.
But I also instantly found more value in the Activity, Who to Follow, and Find Friends sections.
6. Left hand navigation.
This will make many hard core Twitter faithful angry. But remember, this change not for us. Me, I swallowed my initial urge to Tweet about a massive user interface “FAIL”, and I suggest you do too. It only took a couple of clicks to get used to the new arrangement, and before I knew it, I was no longer looking for things. The one sure sign of Web design success.
7. In-line media.
Pictures basically pictures and movies can now appear right within a Tweet – and this is important – if you want them to. Twitter has been tinkering with this for years, but now it’s here in spades. And best of all, seamlessly in context (see the embedded Tweet in point number 10 below).
8. Brand pages.
I liked ‘em on Facebook, they’re growing on me in Facebook, and I love what I see on the pages of the 21 lucky uber brands that got in on the ground floor.
No, it’s not because I’m a branding and marketing guy, it’s because brand pages help me distinguish between ordinary mortals like this guy and brands like Coke or Pepsi (and yes, they’re both there competing again for your taste-test).
For brands, it gives them a bigger incentive to invest time, staff energy, and money in their Twitter presence, which means they’ll need to keep humanizing themselves – because that’s what works for the community.
9. Revenue.
The best news for Twitter fans is that they finally seem to have figured out how to make money at this game without annoying users. The new brand pages, sponsored Tweets, and better multimedia will all add up to a more sustainable free app. Which is good.
It also signals Twitter’s bigger ambitions to become a major corporate player. Interesting that NYSE Euronext is one of the 21 chosen brands and not NASDAQ… Hmm. IPO in the air?
10. Embedding Tweets and buttons.
Not for the average user, but for bloggers like me, it means I can more easily share Twitter content. For example, check out this page to create custom buttons and widgets, like this one for an Ottawa holiday party next week:
Or, you can embed a Tweet like the one below, and it’s real live content with intact links and context, and not a screen grab. This means tweets are even easier to share, discuss, and publish across platforms. Like this:
@DenVan working on a #newtwitter blog post now.May I make this my first embedded tweet?
Two weeks ago, the Differ’s guest post Punk It Loud! Why Social Media Needs More Punk appeared on a new blog Punk Views on Social Media - along with the thoughts of a bunch of other punks he respects and hangs out with online. And of course, it generated *much* more traffic and many more comments than Beg to Differ ever gets (insert humility). Here are some follow-up thoughts.
Creative Commons License: photo by Christian Holmér
Confessions of a coward
In that post, I “came out” as a poseur punk. I was never actually a punk by the standard social definitions of the times, even though I hung out with punks, listened to the music, danced and generally snarled a lot. And my life today at 42 certainly doesn’t scream “punk”. But as the comments made very clear: 1) I wasn’t alone, and 2) it didn’t matter. It was the *idea* of capital P Punk that a lot of us poseurs carried with us as we grew older.
One of the commenters, Kyle Judkins responded to this line in my post:
But I was a coward, way too straight-laced to get a weird haircut, body piercings, or any superficial paraphernalia that defined punk at the time.
He thanked me for tagging the safety pins / hairdos etc. as “superficial paraphernalia” because he had originally been worried that we “Punk Views” writers were talking about that stuff. The *fad* of punk. Which would be kind of like a man in his fifties pretending he’s still a 1980′s era breakdancer - as in a TEDx Ottawa talk I saw a few weeks ago. Good heart. Great message. But… um… culturally awkward.
My thought back to Kyle was:
The external trappings of Punk were never actually very punk were they? And I guess the same goes for any revolutionary movement – whether Occupy <fill in the blank> , the Tea Party, or the French revolution, as soon as a movement gains an internal orthodoxy and pecking order it loses its edge. That’s why I like punk as a *verb* rather than a noun.
So yeah, don’t go pulling out your old punk gear in some sad search for your forgotten youth. Punk was never a uniform. It’s a verb.
And as you read these 5 “lessons” that formed the core of that post, feel free to insert the words “brand” “business” “charity” “government” or whatever where it says “social media” or “heavy metal / opera / jazz / whatever” where it says “punk”.
Or don’t. You’re punk. Find your own way!
5 reasons social media (or whatever) needs more Punk (or whatever)
Punk doesn’t take itself too seriously. What most people didn’t get about punk was that it was a joke. I don’t mean that it wasn’t important. I mean that at its core, punk was parody, a joke played on the rest of the world. You all dress one way? Fine, we’ll do the opposite. You value top-forty disco? Fine, how about this aural assault? Like the jester at the banquet, the punk is the one who sees through the poses and the pomp, and sees where to poke the holes. On social media, I’m finding the most valuable people are those who take their ideas seriously, but notthemselves.
Punk is about playing (loud). The punk attitude is about playing – playing a part, playing with ideas and roles, and playing out different possibilities. Taking them apart. Turning them inside out. Cranking up the volume. This constant state of play is what allows people with a punk attitude to keep evolving, changing, growing new brain cells. And in social media, it’s the attitude that drives creative connections and brilliant moments of serendipity. It’s also why nobody can ever script or template success in social media (beware the “proprietary systems”). You’ve just got to get in there and play it out.
Punk says anybody can do it. Punk was the ultimate DIY movement. You didn’t need to be a classically trained musician to play punk, and you didn’t get your clothes – or your ideas – from Woolco. This was the ethic that made punk like early social media: chaotic, confusing, but ultimately a flat playing field where anyone could play. That’s why I feel like I have a right to put my content alongside anyone else’s. Because, actually, I do. Not because I’m special, but because anybody can. As Martin Luther King Jr. never (ever) said: “Don’t judge me by the colour of my Klout score, but by the character of my content.”
Punk sneers at popularity. Sorry popular kids. Punks are iconoclasts by definition. We learned in high school that popularity doesn’t equal substance. We learned not to idolize airheaded jocks and bitchy prom queens just because we were expected to. So in social media, the more popular you are, the higher your follower count, blog ranking, or Klout score, the more the punks will challenge and dissect the work you do. Fair is fair, so we won’t disrespect you as people. But we will demand more of you. To question your ideas and hold you accountable for the very influence you seek.
Punk begs to differ. The idea of punk is to try out alternatives. To put a little twist on normal and see it from the other side. I named my own humble blog (warning: link-pimpage ahead) Beg to Differ because I’m obsessed with difference – and from a marketing and branding standpoint, differentiation. How do people and products stand out and get noticed? And that’s really the point of this exercise too. The key question is: how do we keep social media fresh, democratic, and open to anyone with real value to share?
Cities like Ottawa need to cultivate weirdness. Not weed it out!
A story in yesterday’s Ottawa Citizen got the Differ really angry. Angry enough to.. wait for it… start a Facebook page! Seems an Ottawa bus driver named Yves Roy has made himself into a minor cult celebrity around town by singing behind the wheel. And it seems that after years of at worst allowing, and at best praising Roy for his singing, the management at OC Transpo have decided to “play it safe”. We Beg to Differ.
“Boring” is the weed. Weird is the fruit.
When I used to travel the world as a brand evangelist in the software industry, I got a chance to see a lot of cities. And among them, I had to see way too much of the big three Texas cities. Sorry Texas. But Dallas/Forth Worth, Houston, and San Antonio are not my favourite places to visit. At all. They’re big. They’re nice-ish. I met nice people. But they never made me say “wow”. And what’s worse, they never gave me a story to tell.
Which is why it was so refreshing to find a little weirdo sitting in the middle of all of them: Austin. It’s a city of about 800,000 – roughly the same size as my home town of Ottawa – and like Ottawa, it’s a capital city, so lots of government workers and bureaucentrism. But what’s nice is that the folks in Austin are fiercely proud of its weirdness – even going so far as to brand a movement to “Keep Austin Weird“.
And I’ll tell you, all around the world, the cities that are the most impressive, the most memorable, and the most energetic, are also the weirdest ones. Great cities throw you into weird, quirky, even unsettling situations, but they always give you a story to tell.
And yes, there are complaints. Weirdness always causes complaints. And sure, it can be annoying. As David Reevely writes:
I’ve been on Roy’s bus, in a sour mood after a bad day, and I dearly wished he would shutupshutupSHUTUP! so I could have a moment’s peace while I stared out the window and tried not to think about anything. And I’ve been on Roy’s bus in a better frame of mind and loved every bar, and also loving that I lived in a city that could produce this guy. Both attitudes are reasonable: it’s not fair to force passengers to listen to music they don’t want to hear, and yet at the same time Yves Roy is awesome.
He ends his article by concluding that asking him to stop “is definitely the safe thing to do.” Yup. Safe it is. Smart? Not if you want to build a city that people want to tell stories about.
So here’s my suggestion to the mayor
Yes that means you Jim Watson. Turn this into a positive story of city-building weirdness.
Pass a motion in council to create an “Ottawa Super Awesomeness Award” (or whatever you want to call it).
Create a policy with OC Transpo that bus drivers are not permitted to sing unless they have been given the aforementioned award.
Give Yves Roy the award and make a big deal about celebrating Ottawa’s famous (and only) Singing Bus Driver.
Get him to sing the national anthem in Council, and try to arrange having him sing at a Senators game, the National Capital Marathon, or other big events.
Voila. Problem solved. Yves Roy is celebrated as the quirky stand-out he is. OC Transpo gets a policy to make sure not every bus driver with a tin ear decides to do the same.
And Ottawa gets one more weirdo icon to call its own.
Oh, and one more thing Mr. Mayor. Please do “LIKE” the Facebook page while you’re here. Every bit helps.
Last week we chronicled a Twitter “cage match” between Social Media gurus Dan Zarrella and Jason Falls - two guys in the same industry who speak at the same conferences, and even hang out together. On the surface, not that different. But yet, they found a reason to have a public and at times personal, argument over what might seem to be a small semantic point: the definition of “science”. And apparently that made one of them mad enough to want to punch a professional Mixed Martial Arts fighter… An aberration? Nope. It’s just human.
Baptists on a bridge
It reminded me of the classic “Baptist Joke” by the brilliant – and definitely different – Emo Phillips.
While you’re watching it, focus on three things: 1) The story he tells. It’s hilarious, but why? More on that later. 2) Emo’s style of delivery – how he plays with the comedy conventions and finds his own oddball path, and 3) How and where the audience reacts. I’ve linked to a longer “horse-face” version of the joke so you can see how he builds on it.
I’ll give you a minute to stop laughing. There. Done?
A bridge too far.
It’s especially funny to me because I come from a similarly schismatic tradition. The Dutch Calvinist / reformed tradition I grew up in has splintered over the years into dozens of tiny denominations – many of which are still busy splitting into still smaller groups.
How bad are we Dutch Calvinists? The scene: it’s late 1944, during the fury of the final Allied push through the Netherlands. The Scheldt campaign is underway and the disastrous “Bridge Too Far” battle fails to capture the bridge at Arnhem. The Nazis have cut off food supplies and 18,000 people are dying of starvation, with millions eating (no joke) tulip bulbs to survive. Harder, more dangerous times than I’ve ever experienced.
But yet, my spiritual ancestors are bickering with each in a church basement. And that fight turns into a massive, church-splitting battle among themselves over… again, this is not a joke…. whether or not to sing hymns in church!
Seeing the bridges for the girders.
The problem is, like them, we often lose sight of the 95% of things we have in common, and have bloody battles over the teeny tiny 5% extra that separates us. Silly? Yes! Tragic? Definitely! But skipping over the “sames” and going straight to the “differs” is just how our brain works. And it can be a good thing too.
After all, it’s the same instinct that a wine connoisseur uses to tell you with one sip which year, region, and side of an Italian hill a wine comes from.
It’s the same instinct that lets a brand manager build a family of related products for customers (or confuse the heck out of them with meaningless differentiators).
But yes, it also leads people to slaughter their neighbours for looking a bit different, or worshiping a different god.
Which is why the world needs bridges – and jokes
In a divine irony, that “differ” impulse is also what makes a joke like Emo’s funny to us. Humour relies on a twist in our expectations. As you listened to Phillips, he led you to *think* you knew where he was going. Two guys with a lot in common, find that in the end they really have something to live for, right?
Wrong. The unexpected violence of the ending rips apart the pattern and shows us where a real human flaw lies. And that’s why you laugh. Because Emo used your brain to fool you into seeing the truth.
Jokes are our safety-release mechanism. Sure they can sometimes be offensive. So can burps. But if you ban them even worse results happen. And believe me, if someone tells a joke that truly offends, he or she will be punished for it. That’s one area for sure where the government can take it easy and relax.
The big A-lister cage match on Twitter So this afternoon, a fascinating debate happened on Twitter. And the topic? Well, Twitter. Or more specifically, how data and tests about Twitter behaviour are packaged. Can we call the use of those stats “science”? Dan Zarrella makes a living saying yes. Jason Falls begs to differ. The [...]
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