Why “I” is better than “we” on a creative brief.

After years of preaching that the creative brief is about the content, not the template, I’m about to commit heresy. I’ve changed my mind. But only a little.

The creative brief template is just a set of questions, sometimes statements, requiring thoughtful responses. Emphasis on the word thoughtful.

Now I think that is not enough. Here’s why: The creative brief is, in the end, for the creatives. It’s meant to inspire them to creative brilliance. That part hasn’t changed.

The creative brief is also meant to be an inspiring document for the entire team to rally around. The “team” could be on the client side or the ad agency side.

But let’s look at the discipline from which the creative brief springs: account planning. At its most basic, account planning speaks for and embodies the consumer. The thoughts, feelings, aspirations, hopes, needs and wants of the human beings who buy the stuff we sell. The creative brief, therefore, addresses what we know about them.

So what if we changed the nature of the template to reflect this reality? I’ve seen hundreds, maybe thousands, of creative brief templates in my career. A tiny fraction do in fact take this approach. The vast majority do not.

What kind of change am I speaking of?

An adaptation, not a wholesale revision. A subtle, but significant, shift in thinking.

firstPOVsurfing

We need to introduce, or re-introduce, the first person “I” into the creative brief. I’ve seen plenty of briefs that use “we.” This is not the same thing.

The brief, after all, addresses the customer. The brief talks “to” the creative team, of course, but it’s “for” the customer.

Here are the questions I use on the creative brief template I teach in my workshops.

  1. What is the problem we’re trying to solve?
  2. Why are we communicating?
  3. Who are we talking to?
  4. What’s the background?
  5. What is the single-minded proposition?
  6. What’s the proof that the SMP is true?
  7. What is the key emotional benefit?
  8. What do we want people to feel after seeing the communication?
  9. What is the desired tone and mood?

These are the basics. I exclude things like budget, media, mandatories, copy points, approvals. Those things tend to be straight-forward. These nine questions require thought. (Some of you may wonder about the difference between #7 and #8. There is a big difference. You’ll have to attend my workshop or read my book to understand my thinking).

So what if we made a subtle change from first person plural (we) to first person singular (I)? How would this change the way we think about both the brief and the work it produces?

Let’s try it:

  1. Why are you bothering me with this communication?
  2. Why should I pay attention to this communication?
  3. Show me how well you know me.
  4. What do you know about me that I may not know about myself?
  5. What’s in it for me?
  6. Why should I believe you?
  7. Why is this important to me at a gut level?
  8. How will I feel after I’ve seen this?
  9. What am I supposed to feel about you?

Notice how I connected #8 and #9: they are meant to confirm each other.

In fact, if you look closely, using the singular first person connects many of these questions in a way that the royal “we” does not. It makes the brief feel more intimate. It’s less a brief and more a letter that requires…honesty, authenticity, truth.

Notice as well that #3 is no longer a question. It’s a statement. Actually, it’s a taunt, so it’s question-like. I could have phrased it, “How well do you know me?” But that’s not open-ended.

I like where this leads. I think it shifts our thinking from what “we” want to what our customer wants.2017 customer strends

I’m counting on you to revise and edit this further to suit your particular situation. I’m sure you could hone my questions to make them even better. Whether you adopt these question on your brief or not, I hope they make you think about how you craft this document.

It’s not a form to be filled out. It’s a thinking person’s document.

Complaints about the creative brief that have nothing to do with the creative brief.

Small Fish With Ambitions Of A Big Shark - Business Concept

Complaints are often disguises. Each one is meant to hide a central truth, a truth that emerges only after you listen carefully to the rant. When the blame for some marketing shortfall lands on the creative brief, an easy target, the real culprit lies elsewhere.

Here are three of my favorites:

1. The creative brief is no longer relevant.

2. There’s something wrong with our creative brief.

3. If the brief isn’t great, the creatives will figure out the Big Idea.

I’ve heard versions of these whinings in conversations, in articles, and online. They’re all full of shittake mushrooms.

You don’t have to be a psychologist to understand what the real issue is. But I’ll play psychologist today and shed some light on these laments.

First: The creative brief is no longer relevant.

I hear this one the most. When I ask for elaboration, the line of thinking goes like this: There are too many platforms today (meaning social media and mobile) requiring different messages to reach our target consumer. The old models of advertising, like feature/benefit or information-based messages, don’t work in these settings. We have to change our approach…blah, blah, blah.

So look carefully. The complaint starts with the brief, but veers rapidly into the message, the communication. The bickering has nothing to do, in the end, with the brief itself. If you’re present enough in this conversation to stop and point this out to your interlocutor, the funny thing is: They agree with you!

It’s not about the creative brief. The complaint is about the work that arises from the creative brief!

Second: There’s something wrong with our creative brief.

I hear this one quite often. It always makes me laugh. I typically respond with this story:

Imagine you had the opportunity to visit the home of your favorite clothes designer, say Yves St. Laurent or Giorgio Armani. You walk into his personal clothes closet and look around. Even if it were empty, you have to believe the space itself would be impressive. walk in closet

But you don’t care about the closet, do you? No! You want to see what’s in it! You want to see the suits, the jackets, the material they’re made of. The shoes, the sweaters, the hand-made shirts. You want to see and feel and smell the quality around you. If you like clothes even just a little bit, you want to be surrounded by this genius’ creations.

So the creative brief is like a closet. It means nothing when it’s empty. It’s just a piece of paper with boxes or questions.

What we care about is the contents! The answers to those difficult questions. The clothes, baby! The clothes!

Stop worrying about the creative brief template. Even the worst template can dazzle if the answers to its questions are inspiring and thoughtful and engaging.

If you blame the template, you’re making an excuse for an ill-prepared creative brief writer. Please stop!

Third: If the brief isn’t great, the creatives will figure out the Big Idea.

This one hurts. This one clearly misses the point of the creative brief. It’s just plain wrong.

The brief, after all, is the first step of the creative process. It’s the first swing at solving the problem.

In other words, the creative brief is the Big Idea.

The creatives assigned to read it, work from it and be inspired by it deliver executions of the Big Idea. They translate the Big Idea into communications that sell. If the writers of the creative brief have stepped up, the heavy lifting has been done.

Abstract illustration concept for design

You know instantly when you’re reading a stellar creative brief. You can see how others are reacting. Look at their body language. Their wheels are turning. They’re asking questions. Talking about executions. They’re already working on the problem. They’re excited!

The opposite is equally visible. If the brief is uninspiring, everyone feels it. Or doesn’t feel it to be more accurate. Garbage in, garbage out.

Handing over an unfocused document filled with unfiltered thinking, lacking a compelling claim (the single-minded proposition), and passing the buck to the creative department to fill in missing information, disrespects the brand, the client, the agency, and all the people involved with making and selling the product.

We like to blame the creative brief for many ills, but we can’t blame it when the problem has nothing to do with the creative brief itself.

If old models of advertising fail, fix the models. We’re seeing this happen everyday. Brands talk about storytelling.

If you’re not getting the right information from you brief, remember: It’s a blank piece of paper until you fill it with questions. Change the questions if you must! But don’t blame the questions. Blame the answers!

If you don’t believe the creative brief is the repository of the Big Idea…well, maybe it’s time you found a different line of work.

No wonder you blame the creative brief.

 

How to break the first rule of advertising

On July 19, the folks at Faktory, an ad agency in Utah, published a thought-piece on Medium.com. I liked it so much, I posted a link to my LinkedIn page. I still like it. A lot.

The premise is elegant and simple: If you want people to not only remember your communication, but to break what the writer described as the first rule of advertising (“No one looks for your ad”), you must connect with your audience in three ways:

  1. With a truth
  2. With an emotion
  3. With a story

Brilliant!

A truth is what I’d call an “insight”: something unique or previously unknown about your consumer, the marketplace, the product category, sometimes a combination of two or more.

An emotion is the deliberate evocation of an authentic feeling. This is what the best of advertising does so well. And so rarely.

And story. This is a narrative, they wrote, that rewards you at the end. They claimed it did not need to be linear. But they added a fourth point that I think was redundant:

Don’t mess [your audience] up by trying to say or do too much.

This is correct. But the good folks at Faktory veer off course just a bit. I think they should stick to three ideas, but enhance one of them. Specifically, point #3: a story with a message.

The definition of “story” after all, is: a narrative that arrives at a point, a resolution, a message. A story without a message isn’t a story at all.

The ads they liked so much—Old Spice #SmellLegendary—are in fact linear stories. Each has a beginning, a middle and an end. They may be absurd, but they are linear, and they have a point. I know this is what Faktory’s writer meant. smell

I have a name for this reward: The single-minded proposition.

Your ad (story) will not resonate if you have too many things to say. But one clear message, driven home within a compelling narrative, makes a memorable, and therefore effective, communication.

That’s why I would argue that the “rule of three” applies: A truth, an emotion, and a story (with a clear message). Do these three things, and you can negate Faktory’s astute “first rule of advertising”: No one goes out of their way to look at advertising.

Because some well-told stories have accomplished the seeming impossible: they’ve gone viral. People not only look for them, they even ask for them by name.

All I’ve done here is nit-pick. I’ve added succinctness to an otherwise strong argument. A story without a point is no story at all. It’s an example of your drunken Uncle Fred at the family dinner rambling on about…well, whatever. He has no point. But he loves the sound of his voice.

Here’s an example in :30. It’s a TV spot for Lexus, called, I’m sad to say, “Turning the Page.” There is no truth. No emotion. No single-minded story. It’s a spoken cliche reinforced with a visual cliche. What we used to derisively call “See–Say” advertising: see it, and because the advertiser believes the audience is stupid, say it, too.

Where do you find the elusive truth? The authentic emotion? The single-minded story?

If you’ve read my essays before, you know the answer: the creative brief.

This is where creatives find the inspiration for Big Ideas like #SmellLegendary and the other examples Faktory’s article highlighted. If you haven’t read the article, read it now. Re-read it. Talk about it. Make certain your creative briefs address each point.

Well done Faktory.

 

It’s better to think inside the box.

A killer creative brief is hard to write. It should be hard. It’s supposed to be hard. If it were easy, no one would complain about the dearth of good creative briefs. And creatives love to complain about bad creative briefs. complainer-657x360

Ergo, writing a good one is not easy.

Is that why so many are poorly written? Because expectations are so low?

Perfect, at least some of us have come to know, is the enemy of the good.

Many authors have been attributed to this line: “I would have made this letter shorter, but I didn’t have enough time.” Some credit Mark Twain. Others Cicero.

Constraints force us to make choices. The best of us respond to the challenge. Too often, the creative brief writer throws up his hands and gives in to the temptation to include everything for fear of missing something. As Oscar Wilde would say in response, “I can resist anything, except temptation.”

To write a killer creative brief requires courage, confidence and brevity.

Next time someone (your boss, the client, a weak-minded account type) encourages you to add more to your creative brief, make them talk to the hand. Then recite these three reasons:

1. Liberating Constraint.

Force yourself to keep your brief to one page. That doesn’t mean a two-page brief is automatically bad or wrong. It simply means you are conscious of the need to find the essence of a product’s message.

The concept is called “Liberating Constraint.” When you force yourself to be reductive, you open creative doors. When you agree to reside inside a self-imposed “box,” the experience frees you. There’s a ton of research to back this up. prison-bars-image

You are not writing a user guide. You are writing explicit instructions to the creative team. The brief is designed to give them a push, point them in one possible direction, spark their thinking.

The brief is the first step in the creative process. Get the creatives started, then step back and let them do their jobs.

Ultimately, this means you must make choices. You must edit. You must be selective. You must be, well, brief.

Your goal, always: One page.

2. Two pages: No! Two minds: Yes!

Whomever writes a creative brief is not weak of heart. You got game. You strut. Even if inside you’re quaking in your boots, you don’t show it. You gotta exude confidence.

This is precisely why writing the brief is never a solo project. You must collaborate. It’s not the work of a committee, but rather of a dedicated team.

Compare this process to what creatives do: an art director/graphic designer pairs with a writer, and the two of them play a kind of creative ping pong. Ideas bounce back and forth between them. Some are rejected, others are kept to explore further.

The creative brief demands the same dual-minded attention. You share responsibility for the document. You both take credit. Which means you also must accept blame for a poorly written effort.

Hey, creatives routinely present lame ideas. It happens. Truth be told, they are often the ones who know their best from their worst ideas. The difference between creative teams and brief-writing teams: Brief writers create a single creative brief. Creatives always present multiple ideas. Oh well. Get used to it.

3. When the brief-writing team includes a creative, creatives now have a clear stake in the process.

When account or planning folks were the sole proprietor of creative briefs, that essentially set up a “them vs us” mentality. It was a lot easier for creatives to diss an even moderately bad brief. Why not? They had no skin in the game.

Make a creative part of the brief-writing process, and all that changes. As it should be. Creatives now own a piece of the effort. And when a creative assists the account or planning colleague in the briefing process, fellow creatives quickly realize their brethren is on board.

It makes a huge difference.

Liberating Constraint is my main message here, which clearly covers points 1 and 2.  But point 3 is a benefit, and creatives by nature will help keep the brief-writing process focused and concise. Creative always exist inside a box of one kind or another: a :30 spot, a one-page ad, any communication with a time or space limit. These are all examples of constraints. how-to-expand-your-comfort-zone

Thinking “outside the box” has become a horrible cliche that means, well, I have no idea what it means any more.

Thinking “inside the box” means self-imposed limits. That’s a great definition of a creative brief. It’s no guarantee that the document will be well written, much less inspired. But at least it won’t take very long to discover that fact.

Practice Liberating Constraint whenever you write a creative brief. Force yourself to make enlightened, insightful choices based on your brand story. Your brief will be more inspired. And so will your creative teams’ work.

What all good single-minded propositions have in common.

Many years ago, about a week into a new job I’d taken as creative director on a major international brand, I was reviewing a creative brief that had been approved by the client and was the inspiration for a batch of new creative work that would be presented a week hence.

The brief was a disappointment. The single-minded proposition was a disaster. It was, rather than singularly focused, a triple-minded Frankenstein’s monster. I remember sighing audibly, then asking if it were too late to re-visit the SMP. 04

“The client really likes this one,” I was told. “But if you insist, we can set up a conference call.”

It was a battle worth fighting, but the timing was definitely wrong. I acquiesced instead.

It was not the first time I had read such a beast on a creative brief, nor the last. It’s no accident that when I started teaching college freshman English, I encountered the same apprehension and confusion around writing the dreaded “thesis statement” in a college essay.

The “thesis” and the “SMP” are two sides of the same coin: They are the hardest sentence/phrase to write and the most important statements in their respective vehicles. When done well, they are a thing of beauty and the inspiration for the rest of the document. When done poorly, everything else suffers.

Two thoughts can guide you here, with some inspired clarity from writer, philosopher, and painter, Walter Russell:

Mediocrity is self-inflicted. Genius is self-bestowed.

There is no reason for the SMP to be such an intimidating exercise. Like everything else we do as communication professionals, the more we practice a thing, the better we become at it. A few minutes examining what the really good single-minded propositions have in common reveals much for us to absorb and from which we can benefit.

First, let’s set the stage with a solid definition of the single-minded proposition.

My favorite comes from Jon Steel’s book, “Truth, Lies and Advertising,” when he quotes John Hegarty, the legendary creative leader at BBH in London.

Hegarty suggests that you write the single-minded proposition on a piece of paper, above or below an image of the product. The result becomes, in his words, a “good” ad, but not necessarily a great ad. The SMP, says Hegarty, is the “first ad.” I would amplify that definition by saying it’s the first draft of the first ad. The creatives use it as inspiration for what, everyone hopes, becomes the polished, final draft ad.

In other words, the SMP is the Big Idea. The creatives unearth Big Executions of the Big Idea, what we call creative solutions.

Here is some thinking from other advertising practitioners:

A proposition is the one-liner – usually rounding off the brief – that encapsulates the strategic thought that we’re asking our creatives to dramatise and bring to life as ads. Indeed, it is usually this one-liner that creates the most debate from all parties involved, as reductive thinking is inherently controversial.

Matt Hunt, European Head of Planning, Grey Healthcare Group

I had to think for a while to remember the last time I saw a pure proposition; one free from bullshit and extras, that simply tells you where to start digging…too many account teams and clients no longer understand what a single-minded thought actually is.

The Denver Egoist

Now, let’s examine a few examples of single-minded propositions for real products from real creative briefs. (Notice that all of these SMPs come from dated briefs, some more than 20 years old. It is notoriously difficult to pry a brief from the proprietarily paranoid…er…protective ad agency.) single_minded_1337085

Toro (circa 2010):

Toro makes the tools. You make the yard.

H&R Block (circa 2008):

Now you can have an expert on your side.

Izuzu Rodeo SUV (circa 1994):

The normal rules don’t apply.

AARP (circa unknown):

AARP gives you the power to make up your own rules.

Lexus GS300 relaunch (circa 1998):

The GS300 is the kick-ass Lexus.

These single-minded propositions have much in common, and much from which we can learn. I’m sure you’ve drawn your own conclusions after having glanced at the list above, so compare your list with mine. I have deliberately not presented the creative because I want your focus on the SMP, not the resulting creative.

The point is, unless and until you take the time to really examine these sentences and understand why they work, the SMP will remain an intimidating mystery for the person who has to write it, and an eternal source of ire for the creatives who must work from it.

1. It is often just a phrase, but never longer than a sentence.

Obvious, yes. But when you’ve suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous paragraph long, throw-in-the-kitchen sink SMPs, I hope you’ll see that the good SMP is concise. Obvious, yes, but not so obvious when you have to face your client. gleamingkitchensink

2. Its focus is always singular; it’s about one thing only.

Obvious, yes…again. Its called “single-minded” for a reason. Research repeatedly shows that consumers respond more readily to one, neat idea.

3. The best SMP is modest because it doesn’t need to be any more.

You’re not competing with the creative department. You’re showing them a starting point. Think about Hegarty’s definition: The SMP doesn’t have to be great, just good. The SMPs I’ve shared with you here fit that definition.

4. The best ones are fearless.

Like a college essay’s thesis, the SMP must take a stand. Once you realize that an SMP is not for public consumption, you operate from a place of freedom. Remember your audience: The creative department. They depend on you, the writer, to kick-start their thinking. If you’re not brave, you make it harder for them to be.

The SMP is the first thing creatives look for on a brief. Their body language is impossible to miss after they’ve read one. Obvious…yes?

Don’t settle for the mediocre. Practice combined with confidence creates genius.

 

A tale of two marketers

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times…

Two marketers, both of whom work for the same reputable national brand, arrived at the office early on a Monday morning. Both had been working for this brand for 10 years. They each managed a different product line within the company. Screen-Shot-2014-03-19-at-8.56.14-PM

And there the similarities ended.

Our first marketer, an intrepid soul, had just returned from a meeting with senior executives of his product line. They asked him for a new advertising campaign to kick off the next quarter. He took copious notes and felt confident that he understood his marching orders. He sat at his desk for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and called his in-house advertising department and spoke with the creative director.

“Good morning, it’s Chuck,” said the CD.

“Hey Chuck,” said our marketer. “Can you get your team assembled in an hour? I want to brief you guys on the new campaign.”

“Sure thing.”

An hour later, our first marketer, brimming with enthusiasm, arrived at the conference room where Chuck accompanied his two teams of copywriters and art directors.

“Morning everyone,” said our marketer. “Here’s the skinny on the new campaign.” And he proceeded to talk for 30 minutes.

“That’s it?” asked the CD. “No creative brief?”

The marketer shook his head. “I gave you everything you need to know. It’s all straight from the executive team. Can I see ideas by Friday?”

The CD assented reluctantly. He and his teams looked crestfallen, but not surprised.54713640

A week later, the creative team returned to the conference room to present their campaign ideas. The marketer looked, listened and frowned.

“You didn’t follow instructions,” he fumed. And he sent them back to the drawing board. This time, they worked over the weekend.

Monday morning, the results were the same. Our marketer didn’t like what he saw.

“You keep changing direction,” said the creative director. “You asked us for one thing last week, and now you want something else.”

The creative team struggled all day and by nightfall, had come up with a third set of ideas. Our marketer felt only marginally better, but decided to present the work to his senior executives the next day.

The meeting with his superiors did not go well.

“This work is off base,” said one.

“You know how we feel about using humor,” said another.

“I thought we agreed that this product feature wasn’t appropriate,” said the third exec.

The list of objections continued.

“It seems that every time we give you direction,” said the first executive, “you return with ideas that don’t meet our objectives. Why does this continue to happen?”

Our intrepid marketer skulked off to regroup.

Meanwhile, our second marketer sat in her office after a meeting with senior executives for her product line. They, too, asked for a new advertising campaign. She sat across from Chuck, the brand’s in-house ad agency creative director. They were deep in discussion about the assignment.

“I took lots of notes at the meeting,” said our second marketer, “and I turned those notes into a client brief. I’ve already run it by the executives and they approved it.”

“This is good,” said Chuck. “Let’s get to work on a creative brief for my team.”

And for the next two hours, Chuck and our second marketer brainstormed to fill out an inspired and inspiring creative brief. When they couldn’t agree on something or got stuck on a point, our second marketer put in a call to one of the senior executives and the three of them discussed the problem in a conference call. It typically took less than five minutes to resolve.

When they had a completed draft, our marketer typed it up, made copies and walked each one to the offices of the three senior executives she’d met that morning.

“Can you take a look at this creative brief and get back to me by the end of the day with your thoughts?”

They all agreed. Each executive made minor changes. Our marketer incorporated the edits into a new draft and emailed a copy to Chuck. He called his marketer to discuss the changes. They both agreed the brief was tight and ready for the creative team.

The next day, our marketer and Chuck briefed his copywriters and art directors with the final creative brief. The team asked a few questions and promised to have ideas ready soon.

When concepts were presented, the marketer smiled. “These are great. They’re on brief. I’m confident the senior execs will approve one of them.”

True to senior executive-dom, they offered some push back, but at the end of the presentation, they approved one of the ideas. They complimented the marketer for shepherding the project so smoothly and praised the creative team for its ingenuity.Kamala-Khan-Ms-Marvel-Comics

Do you recognize one of these scenarios? They are condensed versions of real situations. I’ve worked at brands and ad agencies that did not use creative briefs, or had allowed the creative brief to become a rote exercise. The work always got done, but the truth is, it often took more than one try. The results were often less than satisfactory.

The process was broken.

Ask yourself this question: Would you try to assemble furniture from Ikea without the instructions?

You might say, “Sure, I’m game!” In fact, if you’ve experienced the situation described above for the first marketer, you have assembled Ikea furniture without instructions.

You can do it, but it likely will take longer and the experience will be frustrating. Just ask the creative team.

The more important question to ask: Why would you even try?

Is it the best of times or the worst of times?

Every creative brief needs to be dangerous and unpredictable

warning_sign_boldTypically, inspiration arrives unannounced, often from unexpected sources. So it was when I read Michael Dukes’s first professional blog post the other day on Medium. He wrote about how to inspire creative ideas. I tip my hat to a fellow creative and say “thank you” for your inspiration.

The creative brief gets the creative ideas started. At its most elementary, a creative brief is an eloquent, focused set of instructions. It can be written for an advertising agency’s creative teams, a small business owner’s marketing team, a firm that hires a couple of talented freelance ad people. Whoever works from a creative brief needs this document to find a spark of an idea that heads her down the right path toward a relevant, insightful creative solution that sells.

Thanks to Michael Dukes’s thoughts on finding those ideas, here are my own thoughts on how to inspire any creative person who needs the best set of instructions possible to achieve her objectives. Notice how similar the points are along both paths.

These four thoughts are minimum requirements before you even begin to write a creative brief:

1. Abandon your comfort zone.

If a creative brief is to succeed in inspiring its readers, it can’t be a rote document. Translation: Cutting and pasting from a previous brief is a mortal sin.

A brief is simply a template that asks for relevant information. If a template lulls you into a rut, change the template. Ask the same questions, but use different words.

If your brief template has 10 blanks to fill in, eliminate unnecessary questions and make the document work harder with fewer words (see #2 below). You could even ask additional questions, as long as they force you to become more deeply focused.

Who says you have to write only one brief per project? There is always more than one way into a creative solution. Creatives are required to present multiple ideas. Creative brief writers should be too. how-to-expand-your-comfort-zone

Don’t let the template become your prison. Change it regularly to keep it fresh. Creatives who read and work from the document won’t be expecting that. If creatives and account folks collaborate on writing briefs, this idea will be easier to execute.

2. Impose limitations.

This is a favorite mantra. The imagination works harder and more effectively when it is constricted. “Think outside the box” is a stupid cliche. Think not only “inside” the box, but make the box as small as possible. I’ve written about this before. I am likely to return to it.

The creative brief is a reductive exercise. Resist the temptation to fill it up with useless information just to make it seem weighty. How little information can you provide and still spark killer ideas? You’ll never know unless you collaborate with creatives to test your powers of conciseness.

Let this be a kind of “Goldilocks” creative brief test: Keep reducing and editing the document until it’s just right.

3. Make it a struggle (for the creatives, not you)

Tom Jordan, now retired as CEO and Chief Creative Officer at Hoffman York in Milwaukee, gave me some of the best advice of my career when I worked for him in the late 1980s. He said that good creative ideas draw the circle, but don’t complete it.

In other words, they leave just enough unsaid to draw the reader/viewer/listener into the story. You must trust their intelligence to figure out the rest. It’s harder to accomplish that it might seem.

This is excellent advice for creative brief writers, too. The brief’s job is to inspire the work, not do the work. Its purpose is to find the nugget of an insight that will open imaginative doors for creatives.

A good brief makes the creatives grapple with new thinking, not by burying them with useless information, but by handing it to them in an unfinished state.

Easy? No. That’s demonstrated in the dearth of well-written briefs. Don’t let that frighten you.

4. Expectations are low, so you have nothing to lose.

If you’re old enough to remember the comedian Rodney Dangerfield, you recall his famous line: “I get no respect.” He speaks for the creative brief. It’s a document everyone loves to hate. Sad, but true.

DSez300_400x400So change that. Start by teaming up: one creative, one account person. Everyone must have skin in the game. Make a pact to raise the bar on expectations. The way to think differently about the creative brief is to, you know, think differently. The process has to begin somewhere.

Why not you? Why not now?

This isn’t rocket science. This is about fundamental insights and clear thinking, two attributes that all communication professionals possess in abundance.

Dangerous and unpredictable creative should be everyone’s goal. Start with a dangerous and unpredictable creative brief.

A trap every brief writer must avoid.

Perhaps you’ve read this line:

“Eternal vigilance is the price of freedom.”

With apologies to its author (or authors), allow me to amend it:

“Eternal vigilance is the price of an inspired creative brief.”

While every question on a creative brief presents opportunities for missteps, one in particular routinely gets the best of brief writers. In other words, the answer to this question often leaves the readers of a brief scratching their heads, wondering why the answer is either fuzzy, incomplete or both.

The moral to this story is clear: Brief writers, stay vigilant!

Bullets kill, they don’t enlighten

Bullet points, that is. I cringe every time I read a creative brief that uses bullet points in the box reserved for describing the target audience of your product or service. Screen Shot 2015-05-31 at 5.40.42 PM

Never use bullet points. Ever. This is the lazy brief-writer’s answer. It does no service to the creative team, the client, least of all the product.

Creatives require a rounded, three-dimensional picture of the person, or people, who is the potential user of the product. You can’t accomplish this with a list of bullet points. Which typically look like this (creatives, avert your eyes):

  • HHI: $75-100K
  • 45% male; 50% female; 5% politicians
  • 30% HS education; 40% AA degree; 15% BA

A word picture, by contrast, breathes air and puts flesh and emotion into the air-breathing, fleshy, emoting human being who actually uses the product.

Remember this Indian proverb:

Tell me a fact, and I will learn. Tell me a truth, and I will believe. But tell me a story, and it will live forever in my heart.

Building a brand is about telling a story and triggering an emotional connection to the brand. It is not about pouring facts in a receptacle. This can only happen when you create a real portrait of the “target audience” for your creative team, which requires honesty and genuineness. And sometimes a sense of humor.

Dart on Target and  People

I’ve cited this example many times, including in my book. Take a look, and enjoy a great read. It is from a brief written by a Leo Burnett planner for a familiar Proctor & Gamble cold remedy, Vicks:

Cold sufferers. You know how you feel when you’ve got a cold—that pathetic little inner-child of yours suddenly wakes up and, before you know it, you’re moaning & whining, you’ve gone all whiney & wimpy, all snivel, snot & slovenly; red raw puffy eyes, pale skin, lank hair—everything seems to be sagging! You feel like something from a Salvador Dali painting; you want to snuggle up in bed and dammit—you want your Mummy! But it’s not fair, is it, because no one else takes your suffering seriously—”Good God, pull yourself together, man, we’re not talking leprosy here! Don’t be such a baby, get on with it, stop moaning!”

Yes, your instincts tell you to be a child, but you’re not allowed to because you’ve “only” (only!) got a cold. And worse still—oh, the cruel irony!—even your attempts to retain your adulthood in the midst of your suffering betrays that sniveling little inner–child of yours: “oh don’t worry about me, I’ll be all right…”, “…no, no, please, I don’t want to sound like a martyr…”, “…well, I’m feeling a little better now, thank you…”

I’m sorry, but when you’ve got a cold you’re doomed to be a Child–Adult.

Entertaining, yes? Of course it is. But put yourself in the shoes of a creative who has to conceive a message to someone who either doesn’t yet have a cold, but will certainly get one some day, or who in fact is already on death’s door and wants relief.

You instantly shove a creative’s work to a new level by this word-picture. You are now in the head (and snivel-ly nose) of the ideal customer for Vicks. You are inspired.

It’s your job, brief writer, to give your creative team a significant push in the right direction. Why not have fun in the process? Get them in the mood!

You can’t afford to give creatives a fast-food version of a haute-cuisine delectable like this Vicks brief writer’s piece of art. This brief raises the bar and communicates to the creative team what is expected of them.

When the bar gets raised at the creative-brief stage, where it should be set, expectations will (or should) be equally raised. That’s how it’s supposed to work. The brief becomes the measure for the work produced from it.

Eternal vigilance is the price a brief writer must pay to create a killer brief. Don’t get lazy. Your creative team depends on you.

The proposition is dead. Long live the proposition.

Thanks to relatively new research in the effectiveness of advertising, which pits fact-based information messages against emotion-based non-propositional messages, I see a unique opportunity to strengthen the creative brief in general, and the proposition in particular.

No matter which side of this debate wins, and there’s a decent chance that both will end up playing equal parts, the creative brief is not going away.

All communication projects require a roadmap, a set of directions, some kind of objectives document that sets the standard by which we can assess the work.

My passion is the brief. In particular, it is about bringing clarity to the brief. Clarity that drives inspired work.

So here is what I have learned. It’s heady stuff, filled with academic jargon. I will summarize in clear English:

About eight years ago, two advertising researchers, Paul Feldwick, a veteran account planner and author of the book, The Anatomy of Humbug: How To Think Differently About Advertising, and Dr. Robert Heath from the University of Bath School of Management, published a scholarly article in the International Journal of Marketing Research in which they argued that the existing model for advertising does not work. They titled their piece, “50 years using the wrong model of advertising.” 24802652

This model, called Information Processing (IP), is premised on the idea that people make decisions based on reason and information, and that effective advertising conveys facts about a brand.

In other words, good information equals good advertising. Consumers, who act rationally, will respond to this advertising, or so the argument goes.

Feldwick and Heath disagree and offered an alternative. They argued that emotion, rather than facts or reason, drives consumer decision making and is therefore a more effective tool for building brands. They believe that consumers make decision based on their emotions, not reason. They called this model Critical Realism.

In one enlightening example, Professor Heath and colleagues tested 43 TV spots (23 aired in the US, 20 aired in the UK) for their emotional and rational content. The authors presented impressive, empirical, statistically significant evidence to support their position in 2006. Even with different advertising styles in the US and the UK, their results were consistent:

…the experimental results show clearly that it is the emotional ‘creative’ content in advertising that builds (brand) favourability, not the rational message. This again contradicts the idea in the information processing model that it is the communication of the factual message that gives advertising its power.

What is the implication for the creative brief?

Here is what the authors say:

…creative departments will have to abandon their obsession with simple, functional briefs and creating ‘impact’ , in favour of creativity that influences emotions and brand relationships — which in truth is what the best creative work has always done, normally in spite of prevailing theory rather than because of it.

From the day I began writing about the creative brief in 2008, I repeated one thing over and over: the brief is only a template and must adapt to circumstances. That remains true today. In spite of Feldwick and Heath’s recommendation, there is still an important role for the creative brief in this (not so) new world of advertising.

And I can’t help but think that the unique-selling proposition, or single-minded proposition, also still has a role on the brief and in sparking the advertising that arises from it. Except that it, too, must adapt to be effective.

Ergo, I submit that the proposition is dead.

Long live the proposition.

An updated proposition, that is.

Call it the unique emotional proposition—UEP.

This should be music to creatives’ ears. Let me explain my thinking, which, admittedly, contradicts some of what I wrote in last week’s post.

What Feldwich and Heath are proposing is a reliance on a message-less advertisement. Or to use their words, a communication without a proposition. One that can be taken in subconsciously, below the level of awareness.

If you’re too young to remember cigarette commercials on television, here is a classic example: The Marlboro Man. This spot has no proposition, yet it communicates quite clearly.

This idea may strike fear in the hearts of analytical corporate America, but Feldwick and Heath have strong evidence that ads that function on this level are effective. More effective than ads grounded on information.

Their research, along with that of many others, offers a strong argument for a new kind of proposition. A proposition based far more on an emotional relationship between brand and consumer. Perhaps entirely on this emotional relationship. emotions

But if you are a creative, this is simply the day-to-day reality in a typical creative department. Creatives understand the nature of the emotional relationship between a brand and a loyal user.

The creative brief is still the vital first step in the creative process. It must provide the framework within which creatives can operate and establish a standard against which the creative work is assessed.

So the proposition, whether it’s information based or emotion based, must set up this framework. That is the job of the brief.

Here, then, is my three-step prescription for strengthening the proposition—the Unique Emotional Proposition—so that it can function on the higher level of an emotional relationship.

1. The proposition must evoke a feeling.

This may sound obvious, but it must be stated clearly and up front.

We know that consumers make decisions based on how they feel about a product, not based on what they think about it. The proposition should reflect this truth.

2. The proposition must provoke behavior.

Typically, a brief would ask these questions: What do we want the target to think? What do we want the target to feel? What do we want the target to do? studia-psychologiczne

Strike the first question. Only the second and third questions are relevant.

When consumers have a positive emotional reaction to the product or service, only then does brand loyalty emerge.

3. An emotion-based proposition requires the right VERB.

I have written on this subject before. Verbs are the John Wayne of words. They describe action. Consumers act when they feel a connection to a product: They like it. They love it. The product makes them feel something the did not feel before. This is the power of brands.

The proposition sparks creative ideas when you choose the right verb to express the desired action and the desired emotion.

Assure your brand’s power by writing a proposition with a strong call to action.

Whether you fall into the camp that believes in information-based advertising that assumes a rational consumer or emotion-based advertising that assumes a consumer driven by her feelings, one thing is certain: Your creative brief must be clear. And your proposition must compel the creatives toward solutions that drive action.

I am convinced that infusing the proposition with emotions and emotional sparks will result in better creative solutions.

Long live the Unique Emotional Proposition.

 

 

The creative brief embraces both the emotional and rational support for brands.

When I worked for Team One Advertising back in the late 1990s, I learned something fascinating about the material created by a group devoted exclusively to designing, writing and producing the expensive, glossy collateral for the Lexus Automobile account. These folks spent weeks and months on each brochure and I envied the copywriters. I was trained as a long-form direct-response writer, so the chance to sink my teeth into a brochure-length piece about one automobile was tantalizing.

Alas, they guarded their turf and never gave me a shot.

But what I learned taught me a valuable lesson about advertising in general and about the creative brief in particular.

What I learned from my colleagues in the Lexus collateral department at first startled me: Research told them that their beautiful brochures did not drive sales as might have been expected. Instead, Lexus collateral reinforced purchase decisions.

Translated, that means these expensive perfect-bound booklets were often acquired by someone after they had purchased or leased a new Lexus. Why? To provide the buyer with empirical evidence to support a purely emotional buying decision. emotion

It’s not an oddity at all. It makes perfect sense. My experience bears this out after 30 years as a creative. I just couldn’t prove it. Then in 2005, the Harvard Business Review published a study that offered quantifiable evidence to support the notion that the only way to achieve brand loyalty is when a consumer establishes an emotional connection to that brand. No emotional connection? No loyalty.

Ask any creative in the advertising/design/communication business and they would tell you this is a truth. They know this from experience. But until 2005, there was no empirical evidence to back it up. Psychology, on the other hand, understood these connections earlier and some advertising academics have picked up on it.

So what does this have to do with the creative brief?

Perhaps you’ve heard the saying, “Whenever the head and heart do battle, one side wins while the other loses.” Or something like that. heart-vs-mind

In other words, when emotions and reason confront each other, it’s a zero-sum game.

But not so with a creative brief. Emotions and reason share equal billing, although creatives believe, and now have the evidence, that to spark the best creative solutions, a truly inspired creative brief must, by definition, tap into the emotions of the consumer if the connection is to take root.

Let’s not forget that the creative brief is only a shell with questions. It is how those questions are answered, and ultimately, how those answers incite the full monty of a creative solution that determines whether or not the brand lives or dies in the hearts of consumers.

Ah…but let’s also not forget this opprobrium: Garbage in, garbage out.

The creative brief is your starting point. Get it wrong there, and everything that follows falls apart.

So the creative brief must contain both facts and emotions.

There are many boxes (or questions) on the brief where facts reside.The-Facts-2

There is, however, one question on a creative brief designed to inspired an emotion: the proposition.

This is where some in the academic world might raise an eyebrow. They might argue that few, if any, propositions do this work. They may be right. A close look at the emotional content of ads today or in the last decades, is stultifyingly void. Whether this is the result of an emotion-less proposition or just uninspired creative, or both, is open for debate.

The fact remains that the creative brief is organic and malleable. It is also a shell waiting for inspiration. How it is filled in and by whom determine how compelling the spark is.

There is no argument that we humans make decisions with our emotions, not our reason. Reason is sometimes used after the fact, as the example of the Lexus collateral material testifies. Advertising creatives have known this for a very long time, and now there is plenty of evidence to back it up.

Which means that the creative brief must reflect this reality. To engage a consumer in behavior that results in brand loyalty, they must be inspired by an emotional connection to the brand. The creative brief is the first step of the creative process. If the spark is weak, the emotion will be, too.