3D Dragon Haircut Research

Sorry, Not 3D Enough

I'm going to confess to a prejudice here. When it comes to getting a haircut, I like the barber to have a few years on me. (Yes, I know, doesn't seem to go with the picture or the column's focus, which is marketing and advertising. We'll get there. Trust me.)

I'm sure that there are plenty of people who cut hair for a living who are masterful at the work at an early age. My needs aren't particularly esoteric, either. But once you've gotten used to the fine points of the job (a quality straight razor, a sense of how short I like it without needing to interrogate or break out measuring tape)... well, going with someone new to the field just seems like too much risk for not enough reward.

Besides, you also miss out on a chance to do market research. Which is kind of a big deal, given my profession, and how, if you really want to sell something in the U.S., you better be able to convince the people with money. That'd be (shh!) older people. Moving on.

This last week, I caught a skeptical column in my media feed that downplayed the coming impact of Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality. The columnist pointed out how 3D in television, cable, and even movie theaters has been limited, with cable providers in the UK giving it away for free, rather than going for an upcharge. So with that as a precedent, why get excited about something new that's likely to run into the same resistant consumer inertia?

It's a reasonable point, honestly. Betting on failure is rarely sexy, but breakthroughs are relatively rare, which is why they are so memorable. Gartner calls this stage in the Hype Cycle the "Trough of Disillusionment", and for every tech that powers through to the "Slope of Enlightenment" and eventual "Plateau of Productivity", there are an untold number that fall by the wayside. I also work for a cutting-edge tech company, so I'm biased by nature.

Which led me to the barber's chair this last weekend, and small talk as Ray (good name for a barber, right? One syllable, can't mispronounce it) got to work on my desire to retain less sweat during the summer. He asked me what I do. I gave him my company's quick pitch, and my role in it. Given that I now work in the Bay Area and everyone dreams of knowing about the next great tech IPO, he asked about that aspect of the business. I pivoted, because honestly, it's just not that interesting to me; if the company does great over the next few years, I'm sure a rising tide will raise all boats, but that kind of long-term dreaming can just get really distracting.

Instead, I pivoted back to what could be done with the tech, and what problems it solves. Which didn't interest him as much, because honestly, why should it? He's a barber. But then I drew it out further, and talked about the last mile aspects. How his phone could give him an AR path to the products he wants the next time he's in a warehouse store, rather than have to track down staff. How he could get offers and coupons without having to hunt for them. How the products and services that he wants to buy could be made cheaper, simply because the marketing and advertising expense would go down with increased efficiency. (Also, more darkly, the probable headcount at that location, because tech is frequently shorthand for Employment Winter Is Coming.) How some companies might choose to pass those savings on to the consumer, all while keeping their margins in check, in an attempt to grow their market share.

He got it then. He also got how, once anything like that was on his phone, how quick he'd be to use it all the time, and how soon it would just become table stakes for anyone that sells stuff.

Because that's the difference between 3D, VR and AR. There's no clear problem that 3D tech serves. Take a look at my screen shot image at the start of this column, and you'll see a character from "Game of Thrones" getting so up close and personal to an angry dragon that her hair is blown back.

No one who ever watched that show turned it off because the effects weren't 3D enough.

But plenty of people didn't buy something in a store because they couldn't find it, forgot their coupon, or thought it was too much money in the first place...

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Feel free to comment, as well as like or share this column, connect with me on LinkedIn, or email me at davidlmountain at gmail dot com, or hit the RFP boxes at top right. RFPs are always free, and we hope to hear from you soon.

Persistence, Biology and Business

Sing It, Fellow Monkey

This week at my gig, I found myself going over presentation decks for a couple of absolutely critical pitch meetings, and obsessing over... how to make the fonts and spacing more consistent, and delving into the extremely fidgety points over exactly how large the bullets should be.

Widow and orphan copy protection, column widths, trying to avoid to start a line with symbols over text, checking back and forth to see what was the more consistent usage, and so on. It's the kind of work that always takes longer than you think it should because any interruption that you get in your life will take precedence over this. At its core, this level of document control is stuff that your brain is just *trying* to be distracted from, no matter how many times you've done it.

There are tricks around editing and QA, of course, which you learn from painful trial and error and experience. First, to remind yourself of just how important the meetings are; that has a way to sharpen the attention. A second is to edit backward, so your mind doesn't fill in blanks that aren't there. A third is read all of the copy out loud, which is an old broadcast journalism tactic that's great for self-editors. I also like to do my rounds at different speeds, so that my double and triple check doesn't feel like I'm just going through the motions.

Sometimes when I'm doing this, my mind wanders as to why the edit is necessary in the first place. Persistence and attention to detail seems like something anyone can do, after all. But keeping a sharp point during what others might consider drudgery is a talent, and I work at a start-up; people are incredibly busy and need to move to other projects with speed. Having the eye to find these points seems like it's in shorter and shorter supply, especially as we get more and more used to machine learning that lulls us into thinking everything is OK..

Which leads the skeptical reader to wonder just how much value is being added through this level of due diligence, and the answer is, well, no one knows. When a prospect doesn't convert to a client, they'll never tell you that they aren't going to sign because of tiny errors that made them lose confidence in your brand. But just because they don't recognize these things at a conscious level doesn't mean that it didn't happen. What we're trying to do at my current gig is hard; it requires our clients to disrupt their current way of doing things, and to challenge assumptions that they've been living with for, in some cases, many years. Having everything just so is almost like, well, insurance.

Believe it or not, such things even have a basis in biology.

I've been fortunate enough to run into a few interviews recently from a Stanford professor, Richard Sapolsky, who will gladly give you way too much to think about. After a lifetime of study, the professor believes that free will is simply the biology that we haven't learned yet, and so much of the stuff that we think is a conscious choice is, well, anything but. Sapolsky cites the mathematical woes faced by prisoners trying to gain parole with hearings just before lunch (dramatically lower than any other time, but never, of course, in front of judges that would admit that they were too cranky before feeding to feel much in the way of mercy). He also talks about the historical culture of blame that society would give to epileptics, people with scurvy, dyslexia, and so on. All of these classes were blamed for their afflictions until the world knew more about what caused them, and then they weren't.

Sapolsky also notes, with the evidence of people answering questions while hooked up to various scanning technology, that we make decisions almost instantaneously, and then spend much of our time and gray matter justifying those decisions. How people of different political persuasions, or those with better backgrounds with parents who had lower amounts of stress, react and manage complex conditions, or more darkly, racial relations and class differences. It's all simultaneously depressing and empowering, as it points to how little we should feel good about ourselves and our accomplishments, and how seemingly intractable problems might have solutions, if only we can get past the conditions that are causing near hard-wired dismissal.

Which is all very far away from a presentation deck, until we get back to decisions made by individuals in micro-seconds, on near unconscious levels. On criteria that will never be stated out loud.

Persistence is in my biology. It might also be in our audiences.

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Feel free to comment, as well as like or share this column, connect with me on LinkedIn, or email me at davidlmountain at gmail dot com, or hit the RFP boxes at top right. RFPs are always free, and we hope to hear from you soon.

M&AD Holiday Special: July 4 Memories

Do Not Try This At (My) Home

Since the industry is officially in Hangover Time between Cannes and the holiday weekend, I thought I'd take a break from the usual profession-centric column and share a memory of a past holiday. If you aren't down for the flight of fancy, feel free to take a pass and check back next week.

First, I need to set the scene for you. I'm in my early '20s, trying to make it as a musician, working temp jobs after college. I'm broke from dealing with college loans, and I'm living in a terrible part of Philadelphia, known locally as Fishtown. (It's kind of like Brooklyn, all the way down to the recent revival and spike of real estate values with hipster gentrification.)

So I'm sitting out of my corner gun turret window, about a quarter of a mile away from an elevated train stop, because it's hot and I don't have air conditioning. I'm noodling on an acoustic guitar and trying to write a song. It's pretty much how I spent most of my evenings. I'm looking out at an empty lot with broken glass and drug paraphernalia, and that's when I see these two guys. (Don't worry, we're getting to the good/holiday part.)

They are, well, *painfully* drunk, in the way that's just hard to look at, because they are standing at angles that look wrong. They've got well-lit torches, which is kind of worrisome in any situation that isn't a movie set, and they also have a steel trash can.

Oh, one last thing. They've got fireworks.

Professional, end of the day at an amusement park level, fireworks. Stuff that goes up into the air and makes all sorts of pretty colors, and I have to think they stole some of it, because it's just not the stuff that you see sold to the general public.

Which they proceed to light, at random intervals and random angles, for the next hour and a half.

Which I watch, because how could you not? And I was struck by the following realizations.

1) They could easily end their own lives, or at the very least, seriously impact their future enjoyment of same, at any moment, really. Even if they weren't drunk, but especially more because they are.

2) They could easily end *my* life, in that I'm not very far away from them, and the right/wrong angle means I'm going to get incoming.

3) My choice of address means that there isn't going any real chance of police coming to my location.

Because luck and/or aphorisms about the kind feelings of God toward drunkards, the fireworks show ended without mayhem. The guys set off what they had, laughed like schoolchildren at everything they lit, then staggered off when they were done. I didn't get any songs written that night, but I did get a memory that will last a lifetime, even though it may have ruined me for every Fourth of July since.

After all, professional fireworks shows are great... but they do tend to lack a certain element of drama, right?

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Feel free to comment, as well as like or share this column, connect with me on LinkedIn, or email me at davidlmountain at gmail dot com, or hit the RFP boxes at top right. RFPs are always free, and we hope to hear from you soon.