This autumn, I have been involved with something that is rather brilliant. ( I am allowed to say this without it being bragging, actually, since said brilliance is more other people’s than mine.) My company, business magazine Veckans Affärer, has joined forces with Resumé, the largest Swedish communication industry mag, and B2B agency Hilanders, to start a conversation. A conversation about where the industries that define Sweden (hard and heavy stuff like steel and paper) are heading, and what actually drives their growth in the 21th century.

This discussion, between the communication industry, top management in B2B coorporations, and the odd publicist, has been played out on – yes, yes, yes – all our platforms, of which the site b2bconversations.se might be the quickest one to access. (Or, if you’re one of those Facebook-is-the-new-Internet kind of people, well, here then.) It is in Swedish, so it’s not for everybody, but for Swedes, there is some quite interesting stuff in there.

And on the 7th December, the next step on this journey will be the B2B Conversations seminar, at the lovely Berns Salonger in central Stockholm. Big name speakers, a panel with a couple of communication people with very good resumés who will occasionally ring a funny bell of some sort (Yes, buying a funny bell is my responsibility. I haven’t yet gotten around to getting one, but whatever I choose, it will be spectacular.), oh yes, and wine. Stockholmers, I hope to see you there on the 7th. Do get in touch for discounted tickets, I’m sure I can get you some, but you have to act quickly – we close registration this week.

* wiseacre part of myself: “Actually, different media do shape discourses. A pipe is never a pipe when mediated. This example would be only half as good as a Facebook status update.” Non-wiseacre part of myself: “Go away.”

More specifically: if you’re Swedish – or are one of those Germans I always meet who are learning Swedish for no apparent reason – why not head over to the excellent Brand Man blog and read a guest post on design and myths I wrote there.

Design skapar mening i varumärket

If you don’t speak Swedish, don’t hesitate to follow that link regardless, and push the Like button. You would have enjoyed that post if you could read it. It’s brilliant. Trust me.

Life is great, but sometimes you need a bit of help to analyse it. A good piece of cultural inspiration will give you just that: a new perspective, a bit of unveiling, a small shock. (Also, sometimes you’re at a cocktail party, a situation in which you need something to talk about that starts with ‘Have you seen …’.) Here are my top five(-ish).

One. Photographers of the absurdity (and poetry) of Culture

There’s nothing quite like a good photographer’s eye. A photograph exposes, deconstructs and de-familiarizes. It makes you look at the culture you live in like you’re a foreigner. Which gives you the best odds for seeing hidden connections and structures and patterns in what you otherwise take for granted. And for coming up with something entirely new.

Like when you step in to the, sometimes abandoned, consumer theatre of Brian Ulrich.

Brian Ulrich: Schaumburg, IL, 2004 (part of the Retail series)

Brian Ulrich: Dominick’s 2, 2008 (Part of the Dark Stores series)

Brian Ulrich: New York, NY 2004 (part of the Retail series). Isn’t this the most heart-achingly beautiful picture.

Or the surreal architectural world of Frank van der Salm.

Frank van der Salm: Property (Dubai), 2008

Frank van der Salm: Square, 2006

Or, of course, the universe of endless multiplication and scale that Andreas Gursky unravels.

Andreas Gursky: Kuwait Stock Exchange, 2007

Andreas Gursky: Shanghai, 2000

The medium is the message. One of the most famous quotes about communication ever, and almost up there with the fifteen minutes of fame in terms of ubiquity. And during the 2000s, the idea of the media channel has been expanded, to encompass pretty much everything. Adding to print, broadcast, web, mobile, outdoor billboards, etc, brands advertise themselves on any physical object they find suitable to associate with. This kind of advertising uses creative associations between the brand and the medium so that it’s actually the medium in itself that communicates the message. So, really a case in point for McLuhan. Easily translated into entertaining, instantly graspable jpgs, ad blogs love this kind of brand communication. But is it effective?

There’s not much written about advertising outside of ‘proper’ media. Swedish rock star professor Micael Dahlén (a generally very clever man, isn’t he) has written a few things on it though. He calls employing a novel medium that makes a statement in itself creative media choice. Which is fine but could mean a wide range of media decisions, so I guess I’d call it something like creative context connections*. (That’s a nice alliteration which I could use with a trademark symbol, too, should I need to make one of those fluffy agency models.)

In both of these studies (The Medium as Contextual Cue. Effects of Creative Media Choice, Journal of Advertising, 2005 and Dahlén, Friberg and Nilsson: Long Live Creative Media Choice. The Medium as a Persistent Brand Cue, Journal of Advertising, 2009) experiments were made where traditional media (ad posters, print ads) and creative contexts were compared. An egg with an insurance company’s logo and tagline or a fire extinguisher with a salsa sauce label on it were two novel media used. The results: creative contexts were more effective than traditional media use in creating the intended brand associations. (This presumes a good match, of course, between context and product.)

As an added bonus, the medium itself can continue to remind people of the brand, something that hardly happens with regular media that’s normally filled with brand messages. Actually, in one experiment, exposure to an altered creative context (when the brand logo etc had been removed) even transferred new associations to the brand. A phenomenon that could be good or bad, presumably. Maybe you should be a little careful with, as in the first example above, associating your food brand with public toilets, hot air connotation or not.

What I would like to do a study on is a possible conflict with brand personality and tone of voice. The simplicity of the message when it’s created by association overlap between brand and medium (Salsa sauce – Hot – Fire extinguisher) and the inherent witty cleverness in making such associations make every brand sound quite similar, and frankly, maybe a little too advertising-y to suit any brand. An obvious rival is of course what trendwatching.com calls Brand butlers. Brand butlers are all those apps, sites or services that also work by association (Energy drink – Sport – App that keeps track of your exercise) but allow an own voice and add value. Like IKEA France’s brilliant covoiturage service, where you can meet people to share your ride to the store – making both driver and passenger save money, perfectly in line with IKEA’s brand values.

* I really dislike the word guerrilla advertising. It’s an example of the old militaristic language of traditional marketing, with its targeting of consumers and offensive and defensive strategies. In his seminal books on guerrilla marketing, Jay Conrad Levinson actually calls different strategies ‘weapons’. Amazing. (Also, dear creative, you’re in advertising, not an invincible jungle warrior. Deal with it.) So I didn’t use it.

Or they’re just chosen a magnificently frightening dragon poster because they’re located close to the classic movie theatre Draken (The Dragon), and don’t see how this choice of imagery might contradict the first line below it: “We’re happy to welcome people with dental fear“.

I, however, loved this thing more or less like I loved my pet, Skrållan the cat. Completely uninterested in the more comfortable station wagons that my dad drove, my four-year-old heart belonged to the DAF, and I would object loudly to the idea of selling it. I even made a miniature of it using matchboxes, which, thanks to the no-nonsense design of this car, turned out very similar to the real thing.

Cars are among the objects people most often anthropomorphize, according to scientists. With their fronts easily interpreted as human faces, and the fact that they move, sound, smell and respond to your actions, it’s no wonder that they’re given nicknames and get called “unreliable” or “sexy”. In all likelihood, the friendly little face of the DAF was the main reason why I took a liking to it. Just look at its white cousin now as it stands in this promotional photo, a happy and gentle family member – don’t you want to, like the male model here, scratch it a little above its front door?

So, of course, anthropomorphizing cars is a common marketing strategy. Like Max the Beetle.

But does it affect you, treating your car like it’s your friend? Yes, according to Jesse Chandler and Norbert Schwartz, in their article Use does not wear ragged the fabric of friendship: Thinking of objects as alive makes people less willing to replace them (in Journal of Consumer Psychology 20 (2010)). When induced to think about their car in anthropomorphic terms, consumers were less willing to replace it. Also, their decision whether to sell their car depended less on pragmatic considerations, like how well the vehicle actually worked. Instead, they chose to keep or replace depending on whether their car (here, specifically, its colour) was described as “warm” or “cold” – a feature that belongs more in the interpersonal domain.

Why? Well, thinking about their objects in anthropomorphic terms makes people start using knowledge about the social world instead of thinking like they normally do about dead objects. And you don’t discard someone close to you just because they, being old or sick, can’t serve a useful function anymore. You care for them.

This way of thinking is not necessarily good news for either consumers or marketers, say the authors. Hanging on to your hopeless car just because it’s an old friend will mean unnecessary repair costs. And well, brands do want you to change cars on a regular basis. Instead of talking about products as living breathing things, anthropomorphize brands themselves, Chandler and Schwartz suggest.

A smart way to use this phenomenon, however, is used by (the generally smart) Zipcar. When the company named all of its rental cars, they found that it led customers to be more careful with them, putting more effort into cleaning and maintaining them. Not bad.

P.S. I fully support the intention of Dutch art hipsters to bring back the DAF.

From Hartmut Esslinger, A Fine Line (2010), p. XII

And, when we design a new and better object or a more inspiring human experience, the design itself becomes a branding symbol. People recognize visual symbols as cultural expression, and we embrace those symbols that reflect our deeper values, such as a delight in simple, elegant usability. In essence, design humanizes technology and helps businesses appeal to the human spirit. And it is the cultural context of design that roots business in history and connects it to a more profound future.

Here it is. Enjoy your read.

In “The Counterfeit Self: The Deceptive Costs of Faking It”, (Psychological Science 21(5) 712–720), Gino et al. tell us this: if you give someone a pair of sunglasses and tell them they’re fake Chloe, they will both cheat more in tests, and start judging other people’s behaviour as more deceptive, than if you tell them they’re wearing authentic brand ones. (Of course, they’re all the same, real Chloe glasses.) This is true even if you just randomly assign glasses to people, so it’s got nothing to do with the possibly shady personality of the counterfeit enthusiast.

The determining factor in this, they say, is that people’s own sense of authenticity in the sense of opposed-to-self-alienation is diminished by the (supposed) wearing of fake items. The “Fake Chloe” crowd agree more with statements such as “Right now, I don’t know how I really feel inside”, “Right now, I feel out of touch with the ‘real me’” and “Right now, I feel alienated from myself” than the “Real Chloe”-wearers. (Thankfully, I have no idea how it feels like to be “alienated from myself”. Is this because I’m so wonderfully authentic – well I don’t wear any counterfeit accessories, so I’m making it rather easy for myself – , or because I’ve always lived so completely detached from the Real Me that I wouldn’t know when it was missing? Like a dog with docked tail, happily wagging and wiggling away.)

This idea not something totally new, it rhymes very well with for example this: even the non-religious become more helpful after reading a story from the Bible. But it would be interesting to see if the same phenomenon occurred with brands people think are morally authentic vs inauthentic – would you cheat less after drinking Innocent juice? Or even just craft authentic – surrounded by the furniture made by small Danish ateliers now run by a third generation member of a family of skilled craftsmen etc etc you so desire from the pages of Monocle magazine, would you be a better person than in your current Ikea Hell (for it is Hell, let’s be honest)? Should you splash out, for the sake of Humanity in general?

And in that case, would this truthfulness/anti-self alienation effect actually be a reason for making brands that people deem to be authentic? Utopian in a quite roundabout way, but still. Anyway: don’t you just love people. Such weird creatures.