Hello, Ms. Muscle Car. Hi there, Mr. Vinyl Enthusiast. And let’s not forget you, Mrs. Photo Album “Of-The-Old-School-Polaroid” Variety.
It seems many of us, in one way or another, are currently obsessed with cultural vestiges—or, more plainly, those things we cherish and hold onto, despite the fact technology has clearly surpassed them in any number of ways. In fact, before we go further, let’s agree a “vestige” is defined as a trace of something that is disappearing (Thanks for that definition, Dictionary.com. I remember as a student having to lug around your more traditional five lb. brother, Webster’s Unabridged.)
Technology is moving so mind-numbingly fast these days that vestiges of a simpler time are popping up more and more frequently—and they often have such a high degree of sentimentality attached to them, they manage to quietly thrive. That sentimentality is often bound to fierce loyalty, and when that loyalty itself is connected to disposable income, you have a significant business opportunity your company may be missing out on.
The premise here is a cultural anthropological perspective on us, today. That is, for some of us, it will always make perfect sense to willfully reject the new in favor of the old. And here’s the kicker: We’re doing it in the most delightfully unexpected ways—but ones we’re willing to spend on to pursue. Smart businesses looking to survive our current economic malaise would be wise to attune their radar not only to traditional targets, but also to those sub-cultures or groups that exist at the fringes. And to identify the fringes that bear the most opportunity, you may want to start by looking for vestiges breathing new life, remerging as actual trends and sub-trends.
I was in Barnes & Noble today with a friend. Before we’d stepped four paces inside the doors, a kindly looking woman approached me and began a “Have you seen our Nook™?” conversation with me. Slightly startled, I quickly realized we were having an e-reader discussion. And so she proceeded. I was off-handedly informed that she didn’t carry a cell phone herself, nor did she have the e-reader she was selling. Preferred books, in fact. And old phones. The ones with land lines and rotary dials and the works. Can’t say she was all that convincing. Indeed, let it be plainly known I’ll never, ever own a Nook™, or any other form of “e-reader.” And that’s despite the fact I know books are impractical in a world obsessed with size, speed, gizmos, and less clutter. But I love them. I love the way they smell. I love the feel of the page. I love picking up a pen and making notes in mine. I love that you can take one to a coffee shop or pick one up in a bookstore aisle or library, and suddenly find that a fan of the same book or author has engaged you with a mutual admiration.
I’ve belabored my attitudes about books and e-readers to make the point that I’m the ideal target, by a surface definition, yet I’m completely opposed to them. After all, I’m an avid reader, early adopter, lover of James Bond and my own grown up gadget fantasies, Barnes & Noble card-carrying member, frequent purchaser, I have the disposable income, etc. In marketing terms, I’m in the sweet spot of the sweet spot of the sweet spot. As it turns out, however, I’m actually part of a minority that increasingly needs to be acknowledged and addressed. I’m a book guy, period, and Barnes & Noble (or smaller enterprises like the local bookstores in Asheville) will need to understand my allegiances and alliances as they look at their own stacks and magazine racks, wondering what emerging technology is doing to reshape their business model.
More and more, savvy businesses are paying attention to the fringes of their core audience as they seek to beat back their own economic blues. And that’s the point: Look around, and you’ll see a world all around you trapped between two centuries. In many ways, that’s twice the opportunity for those willing to look a little harder, a little more deeply, at their own audiences.
Is there something you, the local small- to medium-sized business owner in western North Carolina, can glean from all of this? Consider the lessons the thriving vinyl, phonograph, and entire “analog” or audiophile audience has to teach. Extremely intelligent by most measurements, and often possessed with the will and the means to spend, this group isn’t being forgotten by a music industry filled with MP3’s, bit torrents, and peer-to-peer file sharing networks. Instead, major manufacturers are making huge investments to produce stereo components that either are updated replicas of turntables or, indeed, are the real thing.
We recently met with a gentleman who is a purveyor of both petroleum-based energy for businesses, and also sustainable or alternative energy. Though he recognizes the world is moving rapidly in the direction of wind, solar, and other earth friendly technologies, he knows we’re not there yet. So he continues to market openly and aggressively to both the meat of his market, and the rapidly growing fringes. Of course, in this case, I’ll offer that I’m hoping the larger market, the petroleum-based market, is soon the fringe, and that gas-powered cars and trucks are soon the vestiges of a culture that’s moved in another direction.
These are industries with one foot in the old and new world, recognizing the potential power both audiences exert over their bottom lines. So be willing to dig a little deeper beyond the obvious marketing assumptions. Don’t stop at a superficial, demographic definition of your audience. Seek beyond the obvious by digging and doing homework, or retaining professional help to find it for you. The audiences around your traditional targets sometimes bear the most abundant fruit. The evidence is found all around us—just look for the vestiges that don’t seem to want to disappear.
Jack Becker is a partner, brand strategist, and copywriter with Integritive2, a full-service advertising and new media firm based in Asheville, North Carolina. Formerly a Creative Director with Euro RSCG, Jack and his business partners now provide sustainability, branding, and advertising services to a host of local and regional clients. For more, visit www.integritive2.com.
This article originally appeared in the August 15, 2010 Sunday Business section of the Asheville Citizen-Times and is re-posted here with their kind permission.
Tags: Advertising, Branding, business, Cultural anthropology, marketing
Although I prefer books better, I’d consider an e-reader (living in a small house forces one to condense). I appreciate the sentiment. Right up a technostalgist’s alley!
Well said, Mr. Becker!
-B