Martini: shaken not stirred

 say goodbye to the ad bowl  

Most SuperBowl fans watch the game to jaw with other guys over a few beers while enjoying great footall. During a tight play or an interception a roar goes up from the assembled group as the guys scream at their television sets in hopes that yelling loudly enough might just be heard by the team.

Though I enjoy football, I generally tune in on Super Bowl Sunday to see the advertising. In years past, some ads were introduced that are still talked about today. After all, when companies are spending more every 30 seconds than most of us earn in a whole lifetime, you figure someone is making an effort to create breakthrough advertising.

Okay, they used to be breakthrough, but I'm not so sure anymore. Year after year the ads have left me feeling kind of flat. Each year they leave me with less hope for the future of this business I'm in. This year marketing creativity really hit the skids. SuperBowl Sunday Y2K was a complete dud in the advertising department. Good thing the game itself was worth watching.

So what was the problem? Was it too many dot-com ads? Was it the similarity in their creative approach, making them all blend in together into one huge amorphous concept with no brand distinction? Was it that the brands themselves didn't seem to know what made them distinct? Was it their overall negativity?

I think the problem originates with the industry itself. You see, as a general rule we've lost sight of the bigger picture.

In the early days of advertising, there were no specialists in the area of eye flow or kerning or lighting. The advertising industry was powered by salespeople who understood how to relate to their audience. Even though they were reaching thousands with each ad, they wrote the ads as if they were talking to one person at a time. Because they were. That's what they knew how to do. Claude Hopkins came from a sales background. He understood the importance of sales psychology. He knew how people would react, and did things that surprised them and delighted them at the same time. Rosser Reeves knew that you had to involve each viewer in a television campaign if you were to drive home your idea. Leo Burnett created relationships with his audience. The ideas were important, but the highest priority was making the brand identity mean something to the audience.

Today, I see too much dependence on technique and idea as if these alone create a great ad. The audience is left viewing a highly crafted presentation with no heart. A dazzling or clever or high-energy display that makes no effort to connect on an emotional level. And perhaps the best place to see this disturbing trend is in the midst of an annual television event that is as richly charged with emotion as today's ads are lacking in it.

 

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