Brand Girl™

It being the season of giving, with consumers doing our respective parts for the economy by spending, you’d think that that the businesses would hold up their end of the bargain by putting in the requisite additional customer service time and resources that the holidays, and all that extra consumerism, require. Think again.

Last month, Chase sent me a direct mail piece offering a Continental Airlines Presidential Plus credit card. The low-APR, no-annual fee offer was designed to compensate for privileges lost via Continental’s removal from the American Express Membership Rewards program, which goes into effect as soon as the Continental and United Airlines merger is complete. Eager to sign on to avoid any lapse in travel services, I followed the offer instructions and was directed to a website where a pre-filled online application was supposed to await me. Problem was the mini-site kept rejecting the special invitational code in the mailer. Inconveniently and presumably erroneously, no phone number was attached to the offer, nor did the mini-site include any link for technical assistance—or help of any kind. As of this writing, I should have the credit card in hand. However, I have yet to track down even a number or resource that can help me partake in this exact offer.

Last month, I called Hilton Hotels to reserve one of the many rooms that had been blocked out at a special rate for my brother’s wedding. I called 3o days in advance, as the Hilton instructions directed, but the reservation specialist still told me that the contract reserving that rate had expired, and therefore, was not able to offer me a discount. Both the Hilton agent and I knew that one call to the bride would have cleaned up the error. Rather than saving me the time, the angst, and the few extra dollars, the rep stood firm—no discount. It took me another hour to connect with another agent from Hilton hotel who was willing to walk the walk of the company’s “be hospitable” philosophy and give me the measly though appreciated discount of 20 bucks.

Last month, I switched units in my apartment complex, transferring utilities like Time Warner cable service in the process. Unbeknownst to me, the Time Warner agent treated my simple transfer as new service. I moved and found myself locked into a package that was similar to but not quite the service I previously had—with a new monthly fee that wasn’t quite the same either. I made four phone calls to correct this error. I still await the return of a call from a supervisor that all four representatives had promised. On my fifth try, I finally connected with a rep who had the logic and power to simply fix the situation.

I know, I know. Woe is me. You too have countless similar stories to share. Like me, you probably wonder at moments like these: What the heck happened to good, common-sense, responsive customer service?

The explosion of technology and social media in the past few years presents a gazillion ways to reach customers. Yet it’s never been harder or more labor-intensive to actually connect with customers. (You might want to reference The Future of Advertising by Danielle Sacks in Fast Company Magazine.) That being the case, when you do have direct-dial opportunities with ongoing customers or with potential new ones, shouldn’t those conversation scripts and guidelines be perfected by now? As budgets continue to be tight and marketers are forced to experiment with new, unproven platforms and approaches, fragmentation among media buys feels forgivable, in my opinion. Fragmentation in good, old-fashioned land-line customer service, however, is just plain wrong—especially in brands that have been around the block. A lot of my recent mishaps seem due to poor training. Or no training at all. In either instance, the ensuing, chaotic customer-service mess is probably the result of the high number of experienced managers who have become jobless–collateral damage in the wake of our economic catastrophe—taking all their years of institutional knowledge and customer expertise along with them to the unemployment office. A lot of built-up brands now seem to have an influx of untrained and inexperienced “bodies” manning the trenches, which can make for bad experiences and, ultimately, bad—and potentially forever lost—business.

As we wrap up 2010—a climate of economical uncertainty that’s been the primary hallmark of 2007, 2008, and 2009, and most likely what the chilly landscape of 2011 will resemble as well—I say it’s high time for companies to take retake control where they can. My advice for companies of all sizes is to consider throwing some money internally. Keeping your brand story internally intact through a well-versed, knowledgeable staff is as important as taking your brand story outward with ad messaging and social media programs: Employees at all levels have to be trained to carry your message out, empowered to avoid dead ends, and encouraged and incentivized to always find a happy ending for your customers. There should be no holes in your brand story.

The kicker: It’s not that hard to please customers. And we will remember it. The other day I called American Express to inquire about recent activity. I was pleasantly surprised when the rep extended me a lower APR for being such a good customer. It was a gift. No questions asked. The call left me with a warm and fuzzy thought about Amex. Contrast that with my ongoing saga with Chase and Continental, where, four phone calls in—to redeem an offer extended to me by them, no less—I’m still left holding the bag, with no card in hand. It’s time and money wasted for both myself and the various representatives who I drill (and I do drill) for information. Unlike most other customers, though, I will take the extra step and continue calling (or visit a branch) because I want that card with the low APR, with a waived annual fee. I want my happy ending. Would be nice if someone awaited me on the other end already ready to gift me one.

Happy New Year. May you be well-served and serve well.

Months ago, I was out with a boy. A Democrat. Actually, an “Obamacrat.” Like many Obama worshippers, especially ones blessed with superb litigating skills, he couldn’t help but be fanatical in his adoration for his leader’s good words. In an attempt to turn our “spirited” session into less of a “sermon,” and more of an “exchange” among friends, I exercised my first right. I grabbed his martini, his tie, and offered up an opinion that went something like this: The man has plenty of raw talent, deep pockets, and a well-admired wife. However, it’s a shame he’s likely to be a one-term prez. My date took that remark about as well as True Blood‘s Sookie Stackhouse would have tolerated a stake being pierced through Bill Compton’s heart. Now, I have been deposed once or twice before. Never before in a Ritz Carlton bar, however, nor by an obsessed creature seeking my blood. The night ended rather abruptly as the Monstercrat went on to accuse me of not even knowing my “own polling district,” thereby making it personal.

My polling district. Therein, my friend, lies part of President Obama’s brand problem.

It’s not about the polling districts. Though Obama’s branding gurus are acting like it is. It’s not about him either. It’s about him being the President of “us,” as in the United States. While still trying to brand himself as somehow separate from the office, and therefore, separate from the country he’s leading.

Most people are attributing President Obama’s PR difficulties to the wrong issues. Of late, he and his family have been subjected to a lot of flack—mostly for exercising liberties, perks, and entitlements that come along with being the biggest cheese in our land. Despite all the negative media spin, I don’t necessarily fault Michelle for sashaying thru Spain this summer with Sasha and Co. (Be honest. In her shoes, you would have probably taken exactly this kind of siesta, too.) Is it bad that the President favors taking meetings out of the office and onto the golf course? C’mon, we all know great aha‘s happen when tooling around the Vineyard. Nope, no qualms with that either.

However, last month, at a presidential event at the University of Texas, our elected, bi-partisan king showed up for work bearing a very democratic Obama campaign logo—with no presidential eagle seal to be found. Hello, Houston, we have a problem. One liberty the President and his marketing team should not be taking is mucking around with the iconography of the United States. In the recent redesign of the Oval Office, I was relieved to see that the new custom-made carpet with its presidential quotes still carried the Presidential Seal. Marketing tactics are in place, but they seem to involve blurring boundaries where, to my mind, there are definite lines.

Again. It’s not about him. It’s about being the President of “us,” as in the United States.

Channeling Bill Maher, I’m offering up two new rules for your marketing consideration, Mr. Obama:

1- There’s a reason Advertising Age named you “Marketer of the Year” in 2008. You ran a brilliant marketing campaign. You sold us on “Yes we can” and a pretty snazzy logo. Well, it’s now 2010, you’ve won the election and, in fact, are President of the United States. Point being: When you were asked to check your personal BlackBerry at the door, you should also have checked in your campaign trail logo! You don’t get to use your “Brand Obama” logo on the job—except when hanging out with the likes of Anna Wintour. How about you and your award-winning marketing team start throwing some marketing magic into the wings of the eagle and revitalize U.S, the U.S. brand? Your staff may be thinking of re-election—as well they should—but so long as you’re in that office, a huge part of your “brand” is the country and how you’re running it. Your marketing should reflect that.

2- I’ve heard all the crap from Dan Pfeiffer, the White House Communications Director: “Given the difficulty of reaching people in this hyperactive media environment, we look for opportunities to reach people in environments that are not traditional forums for political newsmakers.” Yeah, yeah. But please Mr. President, stay off The View. Send Michelle. I’m glad it’s a show your wife watches, but if Michelle can make it to Spain, she can certainly find her way to Barbara Walters’ lovely studio set. Stop playing it safe. Stop campaigning. If this were a reality show, I would vote you off for being a wuss. Go spend some time with the boys over at Meet the Press, and let’s see you break a sweat, Mr. President—somewhere other than the golf course or the basketball court.

One last word to my beloved Obamacrat: For the record, I’m a registered Republican, currently in NYC, District number 8. However, I also switch party lines all the time. If Obama’s election (and George W. Bush’s for that matter) taught us anything, it’s that you can make no assumptions about anyone, no matter what their polling district stats say. Now that I have migrated to the City of Angels, it seems right to re-consider my party status, so I have. Although a miniscule speck of a political minority in the state of California, I’m still planning on staying Republican. Sorry, buddy. It could even just be a branding thing. What can I say? Just never been a big fan of the ass…

The universe has an incredible sense of humor. And at one time or another, we have all experienced being the butt end of that kind of cosmic joke. Like when you rocked your hips in a victory dance after realizing you weren’t ticketed for your well-expired city parking meter, only to be rocked to the core moments later, when you discovered the car door was swiped. Or when you willed the rarely seen, single, and appropriately aged potential suitor, who took your digits at a recent LACMA event, to call you? And he does call. But during the conversation, he graciously asks if he should “Facebook” your twenty-something companion from that evening. What about the time your firm spent billions of dollars over a decade to create a brand image that carefully positioned itself within the energy sector as forward-thinking, environmentally-concerned, and driven—only to wake up to find itself directly linked to an oil spill. And not just any drip. No, your firm is now allegedly responsible for the “largest marine oil spill in the history of the petroleum industry,” the one that took four months to contain, and not before pumping billions of gallons of the crude stuff into U.S. waters, further devastating an already challenged eco-system. An eco-system that you sought to protect. Barrels of laughter.

To say BP (British Petroleum) has an image problem is an understatement. The news is reporting that to help offset plummeting sales at the pumps and lessen mounting disapproval with the general population, several owners of BP-branded gas stations are calling for a “name change” or in lieu of that, a return to the comparatively untarnished Amoco name.

Here’s the back story, which is full of delicious ironies: BP bought Amoco in 1998 and began the conversion of Amoco stations to “BP”-branded ones in 2001. At the same time, the company launched a new branding campaign, a charge led by the tagline “Beyond Petroleum.” (I know. You can’t make this stuff up, can you?) The tagline stayed in use until the present day—it’s a good line, and the company likely got a lot of mileage out of it—but the PR department must be cringing about it now.

The paradoxes don’t end with the tagline, either. As part of the effort to promote its new eco-friendly mantra, pre-spill BP vested a considerable amount of resources toward eco-focused projects—not only its stylish, green and yellow sunflower logo, but also research and future technologies. One consumer-oriented tangible was the 2007 creation of BP’s Helios House, a LEED-certified gas station right here in Los Angeles, coincidentally located a few minutes away from where I sit. According to one member involved on the project, brand daddy Brian Collins, “green destinations” like Helios House were designed to “provoke discussion,” and ultimately, to be reproduced throughout the country. “On the one hand people want to reduce the amount of energy we spend, but are ambivalent when it comes to the freedom they enjoy with automobiles. So we decided to go to the heart of the paradox,” he says. The project has yet to gain momentum, possibly because the inherent ironies in “the heart of the paradox” were either too much for or perhaps lost on American gas consumers: The “green” Helios House structure makes use of recycled materials, wood, solar panels, plants, and any number of other conservation-oriented techniques (i.e., it’s a physical branding campaign that screams, “We’re helping the environment!”), but at the end of the day, it’s a gas station, still pumping and selling good old non-eco-friendly gasoline.

So: When do you stop refilling the brand tank? I tell clients that creating and managing a brand is like choosing to birth and raise a child. You nurture the child as best you can, and when it does something wrong (even if it’s hugely detrimental to society), you don’t banish them immediately into exile. After all, abandonment is considered a crime in most states. Hopefully, you’re a parent who’s inclined to counsel that child to do what’s right: a) Fess up to a situation (be honest), b) say your sorry (take the blame), and c) make restitution (clean up the spill). If you’re running a semi-healthy household, in exchange for doing what’s right, at some point, that child will most likely be forgiven (and get to stay in business).

All this to say, another BP name shift or BP making a U-turn on any of its brand map roads would be money wasted on addressing a short-term issue. The main task at hand is fixing the actual problem. As BP continues its campaign to clean up the residual damage of the spill itself—making it right—its brand will slowly right itself, too. In short, the company execs need to stop worrying about how BP looks or sounds, or whether people like them or believe their branding anymore, and spend more time walking the walk, even when the road ahead is hard and long. The New York Times ran a wonderful piece in last week’s Sunday Business section that addresses recent PR missteps, and one quote in particular sums up the BP conundrum best: “It’s the height of arrogance to assume that in the middle of a crisis the public yearns for chestnuts of wisdom from people they want to kill. The goal is not to get people not to hate them. It’s to get people to hate them less.”

In the meantime, however, just like the BP stock, sales will continue to ride a slippery slope. BP will remain a poster child for hypocrisy for quite some time, and folks in the know will snicker at the current ramp-up of ad dollars being spent to pump up the Arco brand, a BP-owned company. Some BP branded station owners with expiring contracts will jump ship, bypassing a renewal in some form of protest and choosing competitors instead. And many American gas consumers will do the same at the gas pump. Myself included. These days, I can’t help but pass Helios House by, and I feel drawn to patronize a neighboring Exxon Mobile to fill up the Bimmer. The same Exxon Mobile that was responsible for the “first” largest oil spill of all time––yet ironically, still lives.