You’re Too Stupid To Know What You Want: Buy Now!

I’ve often stated on this blog that good marketing requires us to know what our customers want. It is a fundamental principle in marketing and a bedrock truth in persuasion. Aristotle discovered and codified this truth over 2500 years ago and smart people have been using it productively ever since.

Kyle Clausen reminded me in a comment on my last post, however, that this truth is something arts leaders often find bothersome and would just as soon ignore:

“Arts organizations feel it is their duty to give the world not what they want, but to push their boundaries and limits and give the audiences what they don’t yet know they want.”

Sounds great. Very noble and generous. But replace just one small word and the whole idea is exposed for the presumptuous nonsense that it is. “Arts organizations feel it is their duty to sell the world not what they want, but to push their boundaries and limits and sell audiences what they don’t yet know they want.”

Here’s another bedrock truth: People don’t buy things they don’t want because some aloof, condescending, we-know-better-than-you arts organization told them they should want it. Traditional arts organizations are increasingly marginal, irrelevant and unpopular and, thanks to nonstop media coverage of conspicuous failures, everybody knows it. Arts pros who run these organizations and who think they’re well-positioned to tell people what they should want are either hopelessly out-of-touch or delusional – or both. And when they try to tell people what they should want in communications that are meant to sell tickets, they’re committing an especially tragic and painful – not to mention obnoxious – form of organizational suicide.

The only way to sell arts products to new audiences is to know who those audiences are and what they want. Armed with that information we can explain how our products will satisfy their yearnings and, in so doing, motivate them to buy our products. Marketing is a process of motivating behavior by leveraging desires. If we don’t know what those desires are, we can’t use them to motivate behavior. And, believe it or not, you can’t motivate behavior by trying to leverage desires that people won’t have until after they buy the product.

Here’s where arts pros who don’t understand marketing tend to get confused. Learning what new audiences want doesn’t mean we have to start selling them crap, it means finding the overlap between what they want and what we sell so we can establish a meaningful connection. It’s not about pandering, it’s about identifying an optimal context for effective communication. It’s about finding a common language based on mutual interests – one that new audiences are most likely to find persuasive.

Venn 2

In this diagram, the first circle includes all the ways our products satisfy, and the second circle includes all the things that new audiences say they desire. The place where these two circles overlap contains all the information we need to motivate new audiences to participate by convincing them that our products will satisfy their yearnings. But if we never learn what’s in that second circle, we’ll never discover the place where what we sell and what they want come together. And if we insist on filling the second circle with what we wish were there, or what we believe will appear there if they decide to participate, the information in the overlap will be meaningless and motivationally impotent.

Arts professionals who refuse to learn what new audiences want because they prefer to focus on what arts insiders believe they should want – and who make their marketing decisions accordingly – are a danger to their organizations and a detriment to this industry. If we have no respect for the legitimate desires that new audiences already have, independent of their exposure to our art forms, we can’t complain when they ignore the self-important, self-centered, self-flattering bombast that we insist on publishing in our promotional materials.

The day we decide to engage humbly with new audiences and start learning – with sincere curiosity – about their needs, wants and desires is the day traditional arts organizations will stop hemorrhaging customers and start climbing back on the path toward health and sustainability.

Only then will we be able to help new arts audiences develop healthy and enduring longings for all the wonderful things they may not have known they wanted.

 

Three Questions Competent Leaders Ask in Marketing Meetings

In my last post I suggested that when it comes to marketing, most arts leaders lack basic competence. I don’t mean that as an insult; it’s a simple description of reality. When compared with the broader marketing profession, arts marketing is an insular, amateurish, old-fashioned enterprise, and since most executive leaders learn what they know about marketing as they rise through the the nonprofit ranks, they arrive in their positions sorely underprepared to make professional marketing decisions.

This is why the arts are in so much trouble. The people who lead the industry, and who presume to make its ultimate marketing choices, don’t know enough about the way real marketing works to attract sustaining audiences.

imgres-1You don’t have to be a marketing genius to lead a well-marketed organization of course, but you do need to know some fundamentals and you need to have some management tools at your disposal to avoid perpetuating the industry’s counterproductive traditions. Most of all, you need the wisdom, humility and self-restraint to avoid inserting your own amateur opinions into the marketing process. This may come as a bit of a shock, but you don’t get to have final say anymore just because you’re the boss. That’s not the way professional marketing works.

So if you’re an arts leader who lacks a legitimate marketing background, but wishes to guide your organization’s marketing in a more professional, more productive direction, here some tools you can use in your next meeting that will help you lead your staff toward unprecedented results:

THREE QUESTIONS COMPETENT LEADERS ASK IN MARKETING MEETINGS

1. What do we know?

Effective marketing discussions begin with a thorough examination of what the organization knows about its situation and its markets. A good leader will expect her team to come to meetings prepared with abundant factual data describing a broad range of internal and external realities. At a minimum this will include detailed sales figures and plenty of market research results.

Arts marketing ends up being amateurish because it’s so often driven by insiders’ opinions rather than objective, external facts. If you want to do professional marketing, banish opinions entirely from the process (especially your own) and focus exclusively on what can be known. A good way to do this is to strike the phrase “I think…” from all meetings and insist that it be replaced with “We know…” (The first few such meetings will be conspicuously brief.)

At first this will be agonizing. Collecting accurate, useful data is hard and poring over dry figures for thirty minutes before looking at designers’ mockups isn’t fun. But if you develop the habit of acquiring and thoroughly analyzing objective data at the beginning of each meeting – without giving in to idle speculation – you will be far more successful. (I learned this at Disney and last time I checked they seemed to be doing pretty well.)

2. How does this work?

Marketing is a process of understanding what consumers want and then motivating them to act by describing how your products will satisfy their desires. It’s a bedrock formula that underlies all effective persuasion. The only way to know if your marketing works is to ask if it fits this formula, so a reasonable answer to the question might sound like this:

We know from our focus group research that younger audiences are looking for peripherals that enhance the concert experience such as drinking and socializing with peers. The campaign we’re presenting today features photos of the target demo having fun and enjoying drinks in the lobby bar. It works by allowing younger audiences to see themselves enjoying time with friends as a part of the concert experience.”

Amateur arts marketers can’t describe how their marketing works because they don’t follow this formula and they haven’t gathered the objective data they need to know what their target demo wants. You can’t describe how marketing works if it hasn’t been created in response to your customers’ stated desires. And, needless to say, if your content was created in response to what you think people want, rather than what they actually told you they want, it’s amateur bullshit.

The more time and energy you spend focusing on what you know to be true about your audience’s desires, the easier it will be to create marketing that motivates them – and the easier it will be to describe how it works. (Note: You’ll have to know exactly who your potential audiences are and you’ll have to do research to learn what they want.)

What will it do?

Good marketing is predictable. If you know what your target audiences want and you make smart, rational choices in demonstrating how your products will satisfy those desires – and you do it repeatedly – you will be able to project results with surprising precision. A reasonable answer to this question might sound like this:

We know from our focus group research that younger audiences are looking for peripherals that enhance the concert experience such as drinking and socializing with peers. The campaign we’re presenting today features photos of the target demo having fun and enjoying drinks in the lobby bar. It works by allowing younger audiences to see themselves enjoying time with friends as a part of the concert experience. We are projecting an 18% increase over last season in this demo based on the quality/consistency of our research findings and year-over-year trending from similar past strategies.

Marketing results can’t be pinpointed to the penny necessarily, but the more facts you use at the beginning of the process, and the more rational methods you apply in the content development phase, the more accurate your projections will be. Compare that to the traditional method, which involves having a room full of well-meaning but under-informed insiders sitting in a conference room guessing what people want and dreaming up creative ways to tell them about upcoming events, and you’ll see the difference between amateur an professional approaches.

Arts professionals have long believed that marketing is a creative endeavor that’s well suited to smart, clever, creative people, but that’s just self-indulgent crap. Marketing is a science where creativity and the subjective discernments of the organization’s highest-paid person are of severely limited value. The day the arts embrace marketing as a rational, fact-based, professional enterprise is the day that audiences will stop disappearing and traditional arts organizations will begin growing again.

But that day won’t come until arts leaders stop pretending to be marketing experts and begin letting facts and rational methods guide their choices.

If that day never comes, arts leaders have only themselves to blame.

If You Wouldn’t Let Your ED Conduct The Orchestra, Why Let Him Make Marketing Decisions?

No respected classical music institution would ask its executive director to conduct the orchestra. There might be a few rare instances where executive leaders have the necessary talent and expertise, but in most cases, the executive director has not been trained to be a professional musician, has not earned enough professional experience to lead an orchestra, and has not developed the professional acumen necessary to occupy such a position.

Oddly, however, classical music institutions regularly ask their executive leaders to make marketing decisions. There might be a few rare instances where chief executives have the necessary talent and expertise, but in most cases, the executive director has not been trained to be a professional marketer, has not earned enough professional marketing experience to lead a marketing team, and has not developed the professional acumen necessary to be the arbiter of an institution’s life or death marketing choices.

Marketing is a professional 9A MOVIES08discipline that’s complex and difficult to master. Like conducting, it requires years of study, extensive practice, broad experience across multiple styles and genres and in-depth knowledge of theory. Those who rise to the top of the marketing profession tend to possess unique talents and insights along with extensive track records that support their elevated positions. And those who achieve expert status have accumulated, or will insist on accumulating, vast amounts of objective, external evidence to support their opinions. True experts will readily admit that in marketing, as in conducting, what matters most is not what you think, but rather what you know.

Meanwhile, in the arts, all it takes to become a marketing expert is to have the words ‘Executive Director’ printed on your business card. It is a time-honored tradition in the arts to allow executive leaders to make marketing decisions using only their personal opinions and nonprofit experience as guides (aka the “Think Method”). As an industry we absolutely suck at attracting and keeping sustaining audiences, yet we refuse to recognize that what our executive leaders think they know about marketing and what is actually true about marketing are often entirely different things.

If you’re an executive leader who has no legitimate background in professional marketing and whose experience is limited to what you’ve gleaned on your way up through the nonprofit arts, you have a fundamental responsibility to refrain from inserting yourself into the marketing process. What you’ve learned about marketing in this industry is of highly questionable value, and what you think doesn’t matter. If you don’t know enough to make the best possible marketing decisions, you owe it to your organization, your audiences, your funders, your colleagues and your community to learn what you need to know or get out of the way.

Professional marketing is the only way to build the audiences that most traditional arts organizations will need for survival. At some point we have to stop letting amateur executive leaders who don’t really know what they’re doing make all the decisions.

Shrink-to-Fit Audience Development; Why Didn’t I Think of That?

I was wrong. Time to admit it.

Regular readers know that I’ve been picking on San Diego Opera lately for what I thought was their embarrassingly amateurish approach to post-crisis marketing. But as it turns out, I missed the mark by a wide margin.

I humbly apologize to San Diego Opera – and any other organization that might have felt unfairly criticized – for having failed to understand that new audiences aren’t worth the effort.

I learned of my misguided thinking when The New York Times praised San Diego Opera in a puff piece the other day about the company’s brilliant survival strategy. As it turns out, attracting new audiences has nothing to do with it. I’ve been preaching for years that new audiences can be found and that they’re necessary for survival, but as The New York Times article seems to suggest, survival isn’t about growing arts audiences, it’s about shrinking organizations to fit available demand. The most sensible choice a troubled arts organization can make, apparently, is to stop trying to attract new audiences and start downsizing when traditional audiences disappear.

Yes. I’m surprised, too. It’s so easy. All this time I’ve been thinking that we should be growing arts audiences when the answer has been staring us in the face all this time: Screw new audiences. The easiest thing to do is maintain the status quo, stay focused on old audiences, die along with them, and sit back and let The New York Times pat us on the back for our accomplishments. Why didn’t I think of that?

So please allow me to modify my core recommendations to fit this bold new way of thinking:

Don’t Change

Change is difficult, especially for arts organizations – and especially for older arts leaders. Rather than responding to changes in the marketplace, as real businesses do, it’s easier to keep doing the same things you’ve been doing for the last thirty years and hope for better results. And when traditional methods no longer work, give up.

Don’t Try to Attract New Audiences

Attracting new audiences means changing cherished traditions and upsetting entrenched organizational cultures, so it’s something you’ll want to avoid at all costs. You can talk about new audiences because the funding community eats that shit up, but actually building new audiences would require change and hard work. The easiest way to avoid having to fill empty seats is to reduce the number of seats you have to fill, so if the going gets tough, get a smaller venue.

Don’t Hire Professional Marketers

Professional marketers are a huge pain in the ass. They may know how to develop new audiences, but they want to change comfortable old traditions and they don’t fit our organizational cultures. It’s much easier to cut costs by firing amateur arts marketers than it is to hire professionals and put up with having to sell all those tickets.

Keep Up the Self-flattery

Constantly boasting about how wonderful and important you are may be off-putting to new audiences, but it helps older arts leaders maintain a fragile delusion about the relevance of their art forms (i.e. “We must be wonderful and important because it says so in the brochure I just approved.”). Focusing on audiences will force you to learn what young, culturally diverse people really think, and that’s something you definitely don’t want to do.

Get a Job in a Growth Industry

Downsizing in proportion to diminishing demand means that good arts jobs will steadily disappear over the next couple of decades. If you’re young, smart and talented and want have a productive, long-lasting career, don’t waste time on an industry that’s given up on new markets. Instead, find a growth industry and work with forward-thinking people who are committed to building something of lasting value.

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Whew! There’s something oddly liberating about surrendering to cultural sector inertia and allowing external forces to have their way. I don’t know why I’ve resisted it for so long. It’s so much easier and we don’t have to worry about persuading young people to care about dying art forms anymore.

According to Marc A. Scorca, president of Opera America, San Diego Opera’s shrink-to-fit survival strategy is good news. If The New York Times thinks such news is fit to print, who am I to argue?

 

 

 

 

Why Not Just Sell The Friggin’ Tickets?

I’ve been thinking a lot about community engagement lately and have decided that, for large ticket-sales-dependent organizations, it is a colossal waste of time and resources. All the energy and money that community engagement might require of these organizations would be better invested in developing new outside sales initiatives.

What most struggling arts organizations need is to sell more tickets. Sales does that. Community engagement does not.

Engagement is a great idea for small, low-budget, well-funded grass roots organizations that cater to localized community interests and don’t need to earn a lot of revenue, but it’s not going to do much for the big guys – certainly not in the area of audience development. Sadly, it’s being sold to all arts organizations as a solution to their audience development problems when, for the larger institutions, it is no such thing. In many cases, community engagement is a false promise that desperate, highly suggestible arts leaders are buying into because they don’t know how to sell tickets and they don’t know where else to turn. And, tragically, while they’re chasing this elusive dream, they’re neglecting more fiscally responsible alternatives.

The easiest way to develop audiences is to identify people who are likely to want to buy tickets and then go out and sell them tickets. It’s the simplest thing in the world. Unfortunately, arts organizations tend to suck at doing it.

Most arts organizations emerged in a world where there were a lot of people who wanted to buy tickets, so all they had to do was promote their events and wait for the phones to ring. That world doesn’t exist anymore, of course, but arts organizations haven’t figured out how to make the transition. When promotion no longer works, you have to sell, which means you have to reconnect with your community and convince people that it’s in their interest to participate in the art you want them to buy.

Ironically, sales and community engagement are identical processes, with one important exception: Sales has quantifiable goals. Both require personal interaction with the community, nurturing of trust and good will, development of mutually beneficial long-term relationships, honest give-and-take that enables collaborative evolution and a meaningful, institution-wide commitment to the process. But in community engagement, the relationship is the goal, whereas in sales the relationship is expected to deliver useful results. Both are noble pursuits, but only one puts butts in seats and cash in the coffers.

So, if you have the staff and resources to do community engagement, and your survival depends on selling tickets, the smart thing to do is devote those resources to sales because sales will deliver larger audiences and more revenue. Community engagement might be a nice idea, but for ailing arts organizations, doing nice things without doing smart things is irresponsible and counterproductive. Good community relationships can’t save arts organizations that neglect to sell enough tickets to keep the doors open.

If you work for or run a large, ticket-sales-dependent organization, the next time someone tries to convince you that community engagement is the answer to your audience development problems, listen patiently to their lofty advice, attach dollar goals the minute they’re gone, focus on people who are most likely to buy tickets and get used to calling it sales. You can call it engagement on the grant applications if that’ll make the foundations happy (they don’t know anything about selling tickets), but on the ground where it matters, say sales, do sales, and stay focused on selling.

If you do it the right way, all of your community engagement and sales goals will be met.

San Diego Opera Presents a Short White Man in a Brown Suit

I got San Diego Opera’s season brochure today. It doesn’t seem to be posted online so here’s a scan of the cover.

SDO Brochure

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can only assume that SDO’s research revealed an untapped demand for short, middle-aged white men in brown suits raising their arms and smiling because that’s the graphic image they chose to:

  • Reintroduce their brand as they emerge from their world-famous near-death crisis
  • Send a clear signal that they’ve learned a hard lesson and made sensible changes
  • Convey the emotional, artistic and entertainment value of their season offerings
  • Make the brochure stand out competitively from all the other junk in the mailbox
  • Motivate younger, more culturally diverse ticket buyers to open the brochure and respond positively to its content

The picture is a shot of an opera singer playing Richard Nixon. I can’t believe I have to say this, but a photo of a middle-aged guy playing Richard Nixon who doesn’t actually look like Richard Nixon, and who is doing nothing more than spreading his arms out and smiling on an empty stage may not have been the best choice for evoking the responses that would motivate fence-sitting entertainment seekers to buy opera tickets.

Just sayin’…

I know. It’s Nixon in China. Opera insiders will get it. But San Diego Opera nearly tanked because insiders were dying and outsiders weren’t buying tickets. If you want an excellent example of why outsiders weren’t responding to San Diego Opera’s marketing, you couldn’t ask for a better example than this brochure. And, tragically, this brochure was produced after the company’s near-fatal audience crisis.

The solution to SDO’s audience problems is professional marketing, but for some reason they’ve chosen to do the same amateur marketing they’ve always done and hope for better results. Professional marketers would have conducted research into the attitudes, expectations and desires of potential ticket buyers and then crafted content that leveraged those desires to motivate customers to buy. Professional marketers would have started with what the audiences said they wanted and then reflected their yearnings in the marketing materials.

“Our focus group research into persuadable audiences revealed a powerful pent up desire for artful leisure entertainment experiences that are centered on short, middle-aged white men in brown suits raising their arms and smiling. Thus, we’ve chosen as our principal motivating image a photograph of a short, middle-aged white man in a brown suit raising his arms and smiling.”

Clearly, this research never happened. Had it happened, persuadable audiences would have revealed what they were looking for in their leisure entertainment options, and the desires they expressed would have had nothing to do with short, middle-aged white men in brown suits raising their arms and smiling. More likely, they’d have talked about special evenings out that they can share with friends or family enjoying drinks, food and high-quality live performances. And if that were the case, among all the possible ways that this brochure could reflect how San Diego Opera satisfies those desires, a photo of a short, middle-aged white man in a brown suit raising his arms and smiling would never have been a viable consideration.

No, if history is any guide, this brochure was crafted by a group of opera company insiders based on “that’s the way we’ve always done it” traditions and without the benefit of objective, external market intelligence or professional marketing expertise. It’s the same amateur process that arts organizations have been using for decades, and it’s the principal reason why they’ve been failing to attract new audiences.

Will the brochure work? Yeah, probably. SDO will almost certainly get better results this season, but it won’t be because of this brochure. They’ll sell more subscriptions this year because of all the “we almost died” publicity they’ve been getting – like the three-legged dog everyone wants to adopt because it was found half-dead on the freeway and then written up in the San Diego Tribune.

But threatening to go out of business every year isn’t a practical marketing strategy so unless they come up with a more dramatic publicity stunt next season, SDO will need to find more strategic, professional, dependable ways to sell tickets. Sadly, If they weren’t inspired to do it this year when the stakes were so high and the entire world was watching, it’s hard to imagine they ever will.

Coming as it does at this moment in history, this brochure suggests that individual arts organizations may not have the will or capacity to save themselves. It also suggests that industry leaders are incapable of useful intervention, and that funders are blindly underwriting ineptitude.

Someone who’s in a position of authority should be helping failing arts organizations do a more professional job of earning revenue and attracting sustaining audiences. At the very least they should be calling them out when they refuse to change in the face of life-threatening challenges. But I don’t think there’s anyone in arts industry leadership who knows enough about the difference between professional, audience-centered marketing, and the amateur, self-centered marketing that arts organizations do, to make a difference.

It’s not brain surgery; it’s just knowing the customers well and making sure the marketing speaks to them in words and images they’ll respond to. Smart businesses do it all the time.

If arts organizations aren’t smart enough to do it, maybe they deserve to fail.

Is This The Best San Diego Opera Can Do?

I popped onto the San Diego Opera website today to see what they were promoting for next season, or rather how they were promoting next season, and found this blurb for Nixon in China.

“Straight from the headlines and live news broadcasts of the day, Nixon in China pays musical witness to President Richard Nixon’s historic trip to Beijing in 1972 and goodwill meetings with China’s Chairman Mao Tse-Tung and Premier Chou En-Lai. From serious political discussions to a toast-filled banquet scene where every toast tries to outdo another, with Chinese dancers and a fantasy scene with Kissinger, Nixon in China explores an heroic gesture by a sitting American President towards a burgeoning world power. Join us for a whirlwind diplomatic trip which changed history and an opera that has risen to the top rank of 20th century American operas and is arguably one of the most influential of the last few decades.”

I’ve written extensively about just how badly arts marketing sucks and as much as I’d love to write a lengthy discourse on this juicy example, I’m going to let you explore that on your own (this blurb makes it easy) and move onto a more important consideration: How can an opera company that nearly died for lack of new audiences publish marketing content like this?

Survival for San Diego Opera means attracting a sustaining audience and that’s going to require sophisticated, professional marketing. This is not sophisticated, professional marketing. This is an embarrassment. It’s a perfect example of the amateurish “that’s the way we’ve always done it” marketing that got San Diego Opera into trouble in the first place.

And the fact that this sort of marketing is being done mere months after the company’s near-death crisis raises an even more important question: Are there any executive leaders in the opera world who understand the difference between this sort of twaddle and the real world marketing that’ll be necessary to keep San Diego Opera and others like it from collapsing once and for all?

Before he became president, Nixon famously lost an early televised debate with JFK when the camera made him appear pale, sweaty and unshaven. He and his team quickly learned that the world had changed, that the candidate’s inherent appeal was not enough on its own, and that sophisticated, professional marketing was the key to survival.

If good marketing could sell Richard Nixon, opera should be a piece of cake.