Here is our latest guest blog post by our main speaker for our first event, Molly Flatt – take it away Molly…
Maybe it’s because everyone hates us so much we have to self-administer our pat on the back; maybe it’s because we feel the need to drown the suspicion that we’re maggots in a tsunami of stale champagne and canapés; maybe, just maybe, it’s because we think that we’re doing genuinely awesome work that can become a beacon for future generations. Whatever the reason, the marketing industry’s hunger for awards puts the movie trade in the shade; barely a month goes by without having to dust off your tux or shave your legs and drag a client to a murky bar backroom for an evening of air-kissing and false humility.
The situation has worsened now that we have a whole new play-chest of categories for ‘social’, ‘engagement’ and ‘community’. Often accompanied by a definition so fuzzy that an old-school TVC disguised as a YouTube hit can scoop a Grand Prix, these gongs are particularly hotly contested in a field so young, crowded and unregulated that the merest hint of validation is gold dust.
For any agency worth their salt, awards are seen as something of a necessary evil; they keep clients happy, help new business and boost morale, but they also take a lot of time and effort to produce, which could be better spent doing the work itself. This particularly grates because the most successful campaigns from a business perspective are rarely the ones that win; sparkly one-off big-budget launches may make for a good story, but they by no means impact on the average consumer as powerfully as the quiet, unflashy, consistent grunt work that makes for a truly social brand.
And some brands consequently forget that their daily behaviour is far more important to the purchasing decisions, loyalty and evangelism of their customers than their QR code treasure hunt, however many marketing blogs it woos.
Let me tell you a story.
My friend Pam is in her 60s, lives in a rural village and regularly shops online. She signs up for a Groupon deal for a reduced-cost canvas photo print. The supplier warns her it takes up to ten days before she will get a dispatch email; she leaves it two weeks before she sends their customer support team an email. No response. She then tries their helpline (which takes some digging to find) but it just rings and rings. She roots around the net and finds a rumour that the company might have gone bust. So she turns to Groupon. She sends an email to their customer support. Cue automated reply giving a ticket number and saying they’ll be in touch.
Over a glass of wine, she relays her dilemma. The next morning I send the following tweet to @Groupon: ‘A friend of mine has been royally screwed over by one of your deals and neither their or your customer service will respond. WTF?’ @GrouponGreenBay are obviously more switched on than their transatlantic colleagues; they alert @GrouponUK to my tweet. @Groupon_UK then give me a ‘social media’ email address for Pam to use.
Back behind e-walls, Pam sends an email. Cue another automated response with another ticket number. After four days of silence, she emails again. ‘Kay’ replies, promising to ‘escalate this with her supervisor’. Pam eventually learns that they will refund the deal, but not the £5.95 postage charge.
There are three things that particularly depress me about this (I suspect common) story. Firstly, behind every shiny social commerce initiative or social marketing campaign, there are hundreds of these frustratingly antisocial encounters going on every day; you can talk social all you like, but if you don’t give your customers access to real people to engage quickly and effectively, it is revealed to be what it is – a purely cosmetic enhancement. Secondly, Pam only got any sort of response because someone with a bit of social media clout and the potential to embarrass the company – me – intervened. Pam doesn’t care a fig for Twitter; presumably this means she is less important to the business than I am (even though I have never bought a Groupon deal in my life). Thirdly, the postal charge. Really?
This sort of neglect isn’t limited to customer service. It can be seen in all that slick but meaningless brand content being pumped onto social presences; those disengaged salespeople on the shop floor; that grad recruitment scheme that looks gorgeous on Facebook but turns out to be the same old dry questionnaire.
Putting the mantra ‘be useful, consistent and consistently useful’ at heart of your social strategy may not win awards, but it’ll influence Pam. A Cannes Lions never will.
