Brand Girl™

If you’re like most people, you’re probably grateful that September 11^th is behind us, for another 360 days. For another year, we can leave behind the corresponding barrage of corporate tributes reminding us of the tragedy—as if we would or could ever forget.

Taking a corporate stance on public issues and events will always be a difficult line for marketers to straddle. Audiences are fickle. Whether you’re being too intrusive, insensitive or outright exploitative, they will be quick to call you out. It can boil down to a case of “you’re damn if you do, and damned if you don’t.” However, when it comes to social issues, if you do choose to do—do it well.

Take two cases in point:

State Farm’s tribute to the heroes of 9/11 is a fine example of a good do. The moving collaboration with Spike Lee touches all the right spots: It features a cover of Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ “Empire State of Mind” performed by school children of the New York City boroughs, woven seamlessly with New York images that are moving without being sentimental. The tribute showcases all things New York: real NY kids, real NY places, an anthemic, tough, and catchy NY-themed song by NY artists, and a respected NY film director. The imagery works because the kids are doing everyday New York things—disembarking from a massive, mustard-yellow school bus; pushing through subway turnstiles; riding the Staten Island Ferry, navigating traffic by bicycle; walking over the Brooklyn Bridge, both majestic and gritty, with the white, protective construction shrouds hanging off its harp-like skeleton; visiting Yankee Stadium and the Bronx; and last but not least, visiting firehouses to thank the heroes who worked there and died for their service and the brave men who still work there and save lives. Making the “Empire State of Mind (Part II)” song from the tribute available for purchased through iTunes with proceeds benefiting the National Fallen Fireman Foundation was another unexpected, good choice.

If the amount of buzz the film has gotten on Facebook and Twitter is any indication, State Farm’s whole campaign seems to have earned high marks from the public. The Illinois-based insurance company produced a tribute that not only inspired warm and fuzzy thoughts about a city and nation rebuilding after loss, but also about the State Farm brand and the company’s understanding of social responsibility. Part of the reason the branding is effective is that this humble and tasteful tribute feels earnest rather than self-congratulatory or canned. And except for the millisecond flash of the company logo at the very end of the segment, literally nothing indicates that State Farm sponsored the segment.

On the flip side, we have a tribute spot by Verizon, a New York-based company that should be subjected to a tongue lashing by Serena Williams (after she’s been called out for a fault or for letting a victory yelp slip out prematurely, of course).

Verizon’s tribute, a compilation of beauty shots of The Statue of Liberty and frolicking children, edited to Josh Groban’s and Charlotte Church’s “The Prayer,” inspired only one thing: tears. Of course it does. The vocals of Josh Groban and Charlotte Church (or Celine Dion, or Andrea Bocelli, for that matter) would make anyone gush like a baby on any given day. That’s the problem. Those tears? Generic tears. Not tears for 9/11. Not for New York. Not for our nation. Not for our fallen heroes. There’s nothing remotely New York about the song, and in combination with equally Hallmark-y sentimental imagery of the Statue of Liberty and nothing else, the segment comes across as heavy-handed and calculated, designed to reduce anyone to a blubbering mess for no particular reason. It feels like some guy in corporate was spending more time thinking about a New York “tribute” that would play well in Peoria than a genuine tribute that would play well in New York.

The whole thing is as short as the State Farm tribute, but the Verizon piece feels longer because it’s the opposite in tone and approach: It feels like an ad intended to make you cry and purchase your brand loyalty through sentiment. It’s shot in black-and-white, though it’s unclear what effect this is supposed to create—grit? elegance? seriousness? The images chosen feel similarly lazy and predictable. Shots of the Statue of Liberty from all angles, interspersed with shots that look like those stock images that come with the picture frames you buy at Target or Kohl’s (a baby’s hand, a parent’s hand, an infant’s wide eyes, kids of all colors smiling, making faces, and peering expectantly up at the regal Lady Liberty).

Consequently, after you’re done blowing your nose, the Verizon spot also leaves you with a big thought bubble over your head that reads: “why?” Did a board member with some free time, access to stock footage, and a fully loaded Mac volunteer to do it? Did a stock video house have a footage sale? Hmm.

The kicker: If memory serves me correctly, Verizon used “The Prayer” in its first 9/11 tribute back in 2002…So: not just tearjerker schmaltz but recycled tearjerker schmaltz to boot.

Thankfully, there was one good part to this otherwise bland and uninspired effort. The end, which came in the form of a dedication: “In tribute to those we lost.  In gratitude to those who served.” Nonetheless, I, along with a majority of folks, was disappointed with Verizon’s “lack of mind” and would have preferred if they had sat this one out.

Am I being too harsh? Watch the two videos back to back…. Harsh? I don’t think so.

Big Brothers Big Sisters of America (BBBS) is one of those fortunate non-profit brands whose allure matches that of Nike—in that pretty much everyone wants to be seen running with a pair.

For much of its 100 years of service, BBBS has been blessed with an army of volunteers that supply it with the manpower to fuel its programs and enough corporate sponsors to keep its operations flush with cash. However, few sponsoring organizations have been able to escape the ripple effect of the nation’s crippling and crumbling economic disposition over the past few years, and have had to adjust budgets accordingly—with cause marketing efforts being scrutinized, and hit, the hardest. As a result, BBBS, like many charities, has seen a continuing decline in its annual corporate donations. Brand Channel reports, “In 2009, [BBBS] revenue was $278 million, vs. $290 million in 2008. It costs about $1,000 per year to help each child. In 2009 the organization helped 227,000 children, down from 255,000 children the year before.” Consequently, in an attempt to garner more exposure for its need for volunteers and private donations—from the likes of you and me—BBBS has taken its tin cups to the virtual streets via social media platforms with its new “Start Something” advertising concept. The campaign features a subtle plea for donations and volunteers, and loudly encourages existing mentees and mentors to “turn the camera” on themselves to tell their stories (i.e., “starting something big”). “The campaign’s edge,” according to Peter Levine, director of the Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement at Tufts University, “is the fact the the ‘Bigs’ and the ‘Littles’ will contributing content. It’s a creative move to empower laypeople, volunteers and kids, to produce advertising media for a large organization.”

Free, positive, viral, word-of-mouth is always appreciated, and it doesn’t take much to get today’s generation to tweet and post. BBBS, like any organization doing business today, is smart to adapt new media into its communications strategy to attract new eyeballs. What remains to be seen, however, is if the new eyeballs they find are attached to the right wallets. Will the costs of these new channels produce the extra cash they need? This unanswered question continues to plague both the profit and non-profit sectors. In the end, participation—a true physical engagement answering the call to action—is what’s needed for success. A Facebook “Like” isn’t something we can count on or cash in on. (Not yet anyway.)

Author Malcolm Gladwell’s October 2010 piece in The New Yorker, “Small Change,” addresses this very issue around social media and expectations for social activism. In a nutshell, he refers to social media connections as “weak ties.” He says, that “…It’s [Social media] terrific at the diffusion of innovation, interdisciplinary collaboration, seamlessly matching up buyers and sellers, and the logistical functions of the dating world. But weak ties seldom lead to high-risk activism.” Needless to say, his essay raised great debate.

So what, if anything, can we take away from this, aside from “a) slow and steady wins the race,” and “b) a drop in the bucket is better than none.” How about this:

c) Social media may be really nothing more than having a “real-time” direct mail piece targeted to an audience. Instead of affixing a wacky golden yellow sticker to a reply postcard to declare interest, your audience is encouraged to visit a link, post a “Like”, and tweet the conversation with others. Finding interested parties is easier, faster, and cheaper. But the hard task remains: Getting them to pull the $$$ trigger for you—ka-ching!—over all the other worthy causes out there. Or as Nike would say, to get them to: “Just do it.”

Bristol Palin, part of the now infamous Sarah Palin household, was recently featured in a new anti-pregnancy, public-service announcement (PSA) launched by The Candie’s Foundation. Neil Cole, CEO of the Candie’s fashion brand, launched The Candie’s Foundation in 2001 after discovering that raising awareness about the consequences of teen pregnancy was an issues niche that is severely underserved by corporate America. Since then, a string of celebrities—from Beyoncé, Ciara, and Jenny McCarthy to Vanessa Minnillo, Ashley Tisdale, and Hilary Duff—have strutted their stuff for the fashionable Candie’s Foundation to make an impression on our youth.

As with the aforementioned talent pool, there’s no doubt that Bristol Palin had the best of intentions when she lent her newly earned fame, garnered from her unfortunate situation with Levi Johnston and her subsequent quick launch into early parenting, to The Candie’s Foundation—by serving as both its “Teen Ambassador” and as the headliner in the newest addition to its “Pause… Before You Play” campaign. The latter PSA series uses fairly nuanced messaging: On the surface, it abandons the more bullying, authoritative, and judgmental tones of most abstinence-only promos in favor of a more subtle, friendly, and compassionate “think before you act” approach. But given Candie’s other related messages, which include “I Never Thought I Would Be a Statistic” and “Be Sexy: It Doesn’t Mean You Have to Have Sex,” it’s hard to say whether “Pause…Before you Play” is just a glossier take on that old fear-based “Don’t Do It” line. Regardless of where one falls on the abstinence issue and teens, however, one must question if the message sent by the PSA was ultimately the most compelling one the foundation could drum up. Even if one agrees that abstinence is the best and most realistic way to tackle the teen pregnancy problem, does the ad even truly effectively embody “Pause… Before You Play?” In the PSA, a very serious Bristol, holding her babe in arms, opines aloud:

“What if I didn’t come from a famous family?
What if I didn’t have all their support?
What if I didn’t have all these opportunities?
Believe me, it wouldn’t be pretty…”

The polished, 30-second spot could be misconstrued to imply that “it’s okay that I [Bristol] had sex and got pregnant because I have means and support, but chances are, you don’t, so don’t.” Chalk one up for the Class Wars. Somehow, BG doubts that the folks at Candie’s were trying to say, “Rich kids, have at each other like rabbits, but you poor youngins, back away from the bed, the backseat of the car, the contraception aisle at CVS before it’s too late.” On quick glance, the Palin PSA might even seem more like a trailer for an upcoming reality show than a sincere message that drives home one of the darker consequences of teen sex: ending up a mom at 18. However, given that Bristol Palin is the most famous teenage mom on today’s media circuit, whether the spot is hitting the target audience hard enough or sending some mixed signals could ultimately be irrelevant. After all, the PSA is doing exactly what The Candie’s Foundation and Bristol had hoped. It’s getting folks, however briefly, to take stock and––pause.