May 13, 2008
Mail and The Megaspy
I sometimes find myself discussing mail as a communciation channel with friends, associates and colleagues. The reaction from most people is farly predictable: mail is “kind of un-hip.” With some prompting people might admit to the famous “mail moment” that the USPS describes when we are reaching into the mailbox in hopes of “getting something useful” or “fun.”
Of course, sending mail is “out of the question, except for birthday cards” and that kind of thing. It’s “laborious” “ponderous” and “out-dated.” (Sorry, I’ve been reading at Zagats a lot lately). Please bear with me.
Mail has a branding problem. Because it doesn’t have to be that way.
My ten-year old daughter Stephanie met a little girl in Florida while we were on vacation. This morning she was almost late for the school bus because she was sitting at the kitchen table writing her a letter (while I was online checking and answering email) and we both lost track of time. She “had to finish” her thought in writing even as I was shouting for her to “get her jacket on.” She has a pen pal and she was just dying to tell her all about her weekend in NYC (a Broadway show and a couple of nice restaurants). Not via phone or email but in a letter. To be mailed. That’s good stuff.
There is so much you can do with an old-fashioned paper letter. Ernest Hemingway relaxed by writing letters to friends. The correspondence between John Adams and Thomas Jefferson (at least as described by HBO) was personal, deeply moving and of historical significance. Writing things down either in longhand or on a keyboard gives it meaning.
And it’s not just words, words, words. You can draw on the paper, as I did when I wrote letters from Belize to my girlfriend (now wife) in 1988 when I spent the summer there. In fact, our relationship is somewhat based on letter mail. When I went down there I was seeing a couple of other girls, too, but as I wrote letters, at first to each of them, then to two of them, and finally only to Rorie, I realized that she was the one I “liked best.”
By summer’s end I was writing to her exclusively. And this was one-way communication. I was moving around so much all over the Yucatan peninsula I didn’t have an address for her to reply to. But I knew how she would react to my cartoons, my travels, my loneliness at being so far away (and in Belize being surrounded by Cubs fans during a pennant race with my Mets). We got engaged the next year.
Because mail is “intimate, personal” and “highly targeted.” At least love letters are. But here’s the thing: if you are in business, love letters are exactly what you want to send to your customers (your best customers and even good customers).
Think about great advertising: it can be funny, profane, moving, even syrupy at times. You look at an ad from another era and it may look corny (You want to buy the world a Coke?). Messaging is very contextual. It’s “of its time” and “specific to a place or a culture” and is “fleeting” in its relevance and should aim at “looking the recipient in the eye” and “inspiring confidence.”
Kevin Roberts, the CEO of Saatchi & Saatchi, said as much in his 2005 book "Lovemarks":
"Lovemarks transcend brands. They deliver beyond your expectations of great performance. Like great brands, they sit on top of high levels of respect -- but there the similarities end. Lovemarks reach your heart as well as your mind, creating an intimate, emotional connection that you just can't live without. Ever."
And this is from the guy who wrote, “Be all you Can Be” for the US Army and made a jingle out of the words “Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines.”
Seriously, though, lovemarks is an interesting concept. You want to gain intimacy and generate an emotional bond between your customers and your products and services. The best brands forge that kind of bond. When she was two years old, my daughter, like many kids, would see the “Golden Arches” and start “watering at the mouth” for “crisp, salty” french fries and a little plastic toy. She knew that Dunkin Donuts sign meant “delicious” chocolate syrup and “colorful sprinkles” on soft fried dough.
That’s branding. What does your brand “mean” to people? Are you “competent”? “Luxurious”? “Innovative”?
Your brand message must be “consistent” and truthful. Brands build trust and that trust can’t be broken more than a couple of times before it isn’t a brand anymore (just ask the airlines). Your lovemark or brand must be “targeted correctly” (I filled up my Audi this morning “sixty bucks” and I’m still in a fetal position over it—did I mistakenly believe I am an Audi person)?
Mail can do this: it can be targeted, intimate, personal, effective and well-recieved. It can help you build your brand (with Megaspirea dynamic envelopes you can “brand-on-demand” without keeping boxes of letterhead and pre-made branded envelopes) and mail can deliver love and respect to your best customers.
The episode with my daughter and her pen pal reminded me of an old Peanuts cartoon. Sally is writing to her pen pal and explains to Charlie Brown that they tell each other about life in their respective countries. Charlie Brown retorts, “You sound like a couple of spies to me.”
I’m going to begin an awareness campaign around mail use called the “Megaspy” program. Become a Megaspy and send letters to a pen pal. Use all the resources of the web and computers (insert pictures, for example) or write it by hand. Look for it soon and sign up. Because “mail is hip.”