Marketing Nirvana for Twitter?

Some marketing types have said that having your brand name verbed by others is heavenly, well beyond flattery, kind of like a marketer's Shangri-la. As you may recall, we have explored the legal implications of the verbing of brands here, here, here, and here.

What about having your brand name used as a reference point in another's advertising? If you're the brand owner, do you care who is doing it? Do you care what they are selling?

The latest example found in non-comparative billboard advertising:

 

A couple more questions to ponder and/or get to the bottom of:

  1. Does Summit need Twitter's permission?
  2. Should Summit need Twitter's permission?
  3. What are the pros and cons -- from a marketer's perspective -- of using another's brand to help sell your own product?
  4. Is this a lazy tactic, an inherently creative one, or something in between?
  5. I won't ask whether consumers are likely to be confused, whether Twitter is a famous trademark, or, if so, whether uses like this are likely to dilute the distinctive quality of or tarnish the Twitter trademark.

Don't just talk amongst yourselves, please, share your thoughts here.

For prior discussion of some of Twitter's trademark issues, see here and here.

Naming the Store Brand

         

Every Sunday I go through the circulars in the paper looking for new products. I usually spend a lot of time with the ads from the national drug store chains (Walgreens, CVS, and Rite Aid). Recently, I observed that each chain seems to have a radically different philosophy on store brand naming. And while this observation isn’t earth shattering, it exposes the marketing strategies (or lack thereof) of each chain.

For example, check out the allergy section. The big brand names like Benadryl®, Claritin® and Zyrtec® all have store brand/private label competition. Walgreens naming protocol for its store brand is pretty straightforward and seems to be designed to help a consumer find the Walgreens knockoff of the branded product. You can buy Wal-dryl, Wal-itin, and Wal-zyr, and the packaging is color coded to make it easier.  This is a very consistent strategy that is designed to make life easier for the consumer and also designed to build the “Wal-“ prefix as a brand.

          Non-Drowsy 24 Hour Allergy,Tablets          

                    

At CVS, you have to be a well-informed consumer or a doctor to get it right because CVS attempts to align symptoms with branding. For example, the CVS version of Benadryl is called Allergy, while the CVS version of Claritin is called Non-Drowsy Allergy Relief (non-drowsy being a key benefit of the active ingredient in Claritin), and the Zyrtec knockoff product is called Indoor/Outdoor Allergy Relief (Zyrtec is the only brand with indoor/outdoor allergy claims).

                                     

At Rite Aid, you almost have to be a pharmacist to get the right brand. The first branded product to go generic was Benadryl and Rite Aid called the knockoff Rite Aid Allergy Medication. When the next generation allergy drugs went generic, Rite Aid had to improvise and so now you need to know the active ingredient to get the right brand (Rite Aid Loratidine and Rite Aid Cetirizine for Claritin and Zyrtec respectively). 

How about gastrointestinal products? Looking at four big brands, Zantac®, Metamucil®, Pepto-Bismol®, and MiraLAX®, and their knockoff brands at the drug chains show inconsistency at all three chains:

Branded: Zantac; Metamucil; Pepto-Bismol; MiraLAX

Walgreens: Wal-Zan; Wal-Mucil; Soothe; SmoothLAX

CVS: Acid Reducer; Natural Fiber Laxative; Stomach Relief; PureLAX

Rite Aid: Acid Reducer; Natural Fiber; Pink Bismuth; Laxative

So what is going on here? Walgreens, which appeared to be building the “Wal-“ prefix as its store brand champion, seems to have abandoned that philosophy in some parts of the store. CVS, which had been focusing on product benefits, gets dragged down into generic category descriptors in gastrointestinals. And Rite Aid is all over the place.

Doesn’t anyone worry about having a consistent branding strategy for the store brand? It sure would make life easier for us confused consumers! Hey Walgreens, CVS and Rite Aid…do you need some naming help?

- Mark Prus, NameFlashSM

Describe Different

"What am I?"

Every invention begs this essential question of identity.

The answer is found in the product's descriptor. A descriptor defines a thing, categorizing it, framing it, positioning it and signaling its intended future.

A product that doesn't claim to break new ground adopts its category's standard convention. For example, a new, run-of-the-mill digital camera would be marketed as a "digital camera".

A revolutionary product, on the other hand, deserves an innovative product descriptor. And, sometimes, a me-too product benefits from one, too.

The trouble is, innovation is easier done than said.

I wrote in this article about the "brander's paradox": Human instincts make us wary of unfamiliar and different things, yet differentiation is essential to a product's success.

By definition, an innovation is unfamiliar. How can its product descriptor differentiate without triggering people's fear of the unknown?

The New York Times gives us an idea in this recent article about product descriptors,

"When people encounter something they don't recognize, they make sense of it by associating it with something familiar."

The most effective new descriptors combine familiar terms in unfamiliar ways. They make product function or form clearly understood, even upon first exposure. Novel descriptors insufficiently informative should at the very least pique interest.

Descriptors that differ

The products shown below the jump illustrate different approaches:

Starbucks VIA ready brew

It's a me-too product but you can't tell from its descriptor. This is really instant coffee, a product designator unbecoming Starbucks. "Ready brew" emphasizes the chief benefit of saving time by using current, casual vernacular.

Dreyer's Slow Churned ice cream

Food scientists have a name for everything, but that name isn't always appetizing. The dessert wizards at Dreyer's, for example, had perfected a new way to blend low-fat ice cream so it acquires the texture and richness of full-fat ice cream. In precise but dry science lingo, they called the process "low-temperature extrusion". Doesn't exactly make the mouth water, does it?

Dreyer's isn't dumb. They knew "extrusion" had no place on a quart of mint chip. They needed a term that had immediate appetite appeal. The words of their final, market-facing descriptor, "Slow Churned", taps into the semiotics of yesteryear, when food was simpler, unprocessed, and naturally indulgent. "Churned" evokes hand-mixed barrels of butter, hinting at the product's creamy richness. "Slow" connotes food that's unprocessed and handcrafted.

On the heels of Slow Churned ice cream's astounding success, Breyer's flattered Dreyer's with their imitative descriptor, Double Churned ice cream.

Disclaimer: I led the naming of Dreyer's Slow Churned ice cream as Global Director of Naming and Writing at Landor Associates.

Bing decision engine

Can't fault Microsoft for trying. Bing is a search engine, pure and simple. Although "decision engine" will never become part of the vernacular, it does suggest how Bing is different: Giving relevant information to help make a informed decision, instead of overwhelming with googlebytes of information.


Noah's Stuffed Saladwich

Coined words are hard to get right. This inventive, efficient descriptor gets mixed results. At a glance, "saladwich" looks like a real word because it begins and ends with the same letters as "sandwich" (a phenomenon cheekily called, "typoglycemia"). But "Saladwich" sounds clunky because "-wich" is not a productive suffix and doesn't normally combine with other words (unlike the "-tini" of "martini" that gives us "chocotini" and "apple-tini"). "Saladwich" will sound less contrived as it becomes more familiar.

Blackberry wireless email solution

Technology products that blend hardware, software and services are tough to describe. More often than not, catch-all words like "solution" or "system" are employed. Though vague, these words avoid long descriptors that specify all key product dimensions. "Wireless email solution" is a lot shorter than "phone, PDA, email, internet, software and services." To its credit (and my alma mater's, Lexicon), the differentiation in Blackberry is borne primarily by the Blackberry name itself, not its ho-hum descriptor.


Segway personal transporter

This NYT article discusses the difficulty of categorizing the Segway, a product that's really unlike anything else. Although the article touches on the brand name, it doesn't mention Segway's official descriptor. "Personal transporter" suggests who the product is for and what it does at a basic level, but it doesn't capture how revolutionary the product is, what it looks like or even whether it's motorized.

But a descriptor can't do everything. Like most products visibly inventive, a photo of the Segway speaks volumes. And messaging, mostly communicated through PR, does the heavy lifting of describing Segway technology and its applications.

Describing technology convergence

Each of the products above fit, more or less, into one functional category. But in electronic devices, disparate functions inevitably converge. Over time, we've seen phones integrate video cameras, music players evolve into movie players, and televisions that browse the Web.

Technology convergence presents a naming quandary: How do you categorize a product that merges others?

There are five approaches a marketer can take when describing one device that does the work of many:

  • List all of the converged technologies (e.g. "all-in-one printer, fax, scanner") Long but accurate, clear and communicative. Needs to change as new functions are added. Generic and not protectable.
  • Cite one function only (e.g. "mobile phone" [the built-in camera is not referenced in the descriptor]) Short; relies on copy and imagery to tout other functions. Doesn't suggest "new". Generic, not protectable.
  • Use one of the technology descriptors as the focus but modify it (e.g. "smartphone") Short; borrows from the familiar to aid understanding. These descriptors can take a long time to be adopted by industry and customers. It helps if the modifier is already understood from other categories and retains that meaning. May or may not be protectable.
  • Come up with something totally new (e.g. "media center") In naming, unfamiliarity is friction. Descriptors like these resist widespread adoption. They typically require a lot of time and money to gain traction. May or may not be protectable.
  • Use no descriptor at all (e.g. "iPod") This is a risky approach and is only viable when the device marketer has (1) control over all communications, distribution and sales and (2) a lot of money.

Apple has conspicuously avoided using a product descriptor per se for iPod. It turns out, they didn't need one. No distributors or resellers could tinker with Apple's disciplined and exacting messaging. At launch, the ad headline, "1000 songs in your pocket" made it clear the iPod was a portable music player.

Today, the iPod has grown in function and familiarity. So confident is Apple, they answer "What is iPod touch?" with "A great iPod. A great pocket computer. A great portable game player." When you can recursively describe your product and people get it, you've transcended product descriptors and become a category unto yourself.

The iPod answers "What am I?" with the most basic statement of identity, "I am me".

I guess if you're iPod, that's all you need to know.

Anthony Shore, Operative Words

Take the innovation descriptor challenge!

Innovations are easier done than said. See if you can come up with better product descriptors than these:

  • Segway personal transporter
  • Blackberry wireless email solution
  • The Internet global network
  • Onstar in-vehicle safety and security system
  • Wii console

Post your best ideas in the comments section.

One Risqué of a Bawls-to-the-Wall Marketing Style?

Have you ever experienced or observed marketing styles that might be fairly described as high-octane, fast-paced, or perhaps, so hopped-up on Red Bull® or some other energy drink, there is simply no time for meaningful collaboration, much less careful, proactive, strategic thinking or planning? Perhaps a fun, exhilarating experience, but what are the consequences?

If you have, as you might know first hand (or at least imagine), this style can seriously compromise valuable intellectual property rights and protection. You know when the trademark attorney gets the call if this style controls, right? Immediately upon encountering a serious and unfair competitive threat. But in many instances, this will be long after a coherent strategy might have been created, well after packaging is designed and introduced, well after marketing materials are finalized and distributed, long after websites have been launched, and well after all the unknowing, but self-inflicted damage is done. In some cases the resulting damage is manageable and can be repaired, other times it is not, and legal claims that might have been strong and viable suddenly have turned dead-on-arrival.

By way of example, perhaps you will recall my prior post about the Furminator and the lost intellectual property opportunities there?

In all fairness, the above-described marketing style may or may not portray the Bawls® Guarana energy drink brand, I can't know for sure, but seeing some of the brand's marketing statements -- after being drawn in by the brand -- has raised enough questions and goose bumps for me to at least wonder out loud.

Let's face it, the packaging is visually striking and begs to be handled like no other. Judging from reactions I have seen others have to the bottle, there is something about it that makes people want to touch it, feel it, or hold it, even if they don't end up consuming the contents.

What an amazing opportunity to engage multiple human senses and cement the bond of loyalty between consumer and brand. Indeed, the bottle design almost seems inspired by the teaching of famed Martin Lindstrom in his pioneer work on "sensory branding," entitled BRAND sense, but it appears to predate Lindstrom's 2005 masterpiece by almost a decade.

Although Bawls® brand owner Hobarama, LLC, has obtained a federal trademark registration for a number of visual elements combined together to form a specific trade dress concerning the bottle configuration, owning a purely tactile or touch trademark in the arrangement of the "bumps" element itself appears impossible now (and may even raise questions about the validity of the "bumps" aspect of the trade dress), given admissions already made in marketing materials: "The 'bumps' on the bottle are there to provide a grip so that it does not slip out of your hand when it is wet. And we think it looks cool." Cool looks are fine to tout, but not "non-slip" features, if trademark protection is desired.

Moreover, the statement "Our famous glass bottles are bumped to give BAWLS drinkers a non-slip-grip" seems commercially unnecessary, if not a subtle diversion for another possible explanation of the "bumps" given the risque' and double-entendre-laden brand name, but either way, the "non-slip" reference condemns any hope of a pure touch trademark based on the admitted functionality.

Why commercially unnecessary? Really, can you name another energy beverage brand that needs non-slip-grips in order to compete with Red Bull®?

I can't.