What about me?

Most of my clients work in big organizations. When I ask about differentiating factors, they often cite their degree of customer focus. They describe being customer-centric, improving the customer experience, going the extra mile. 

I guess it’s different in the consumer world. Recently, I’ve had several experiences where the marketing focus seems to be all about “them,” instead of “me,” the consumer.

The most vivid example comes from someone I’ll call Buddha in the Basement. He’s the heating technician who sat himself in front of my furnace as if it were a meditation altar, then yelled upstairs for me to come down and hear his spiel. He tried to upsell me on various and dubious services, expecting to convince me by explaining how much he liked the company.

The spring catalogs are no better. Maybe copywriters have tired of describing how wonderful my life would be if only I bought this season’s fashions. Instead, they write about how much they enjoy the merchandise:

• “We pull on the Dynamic Skirt when we need to change the dynamic, or simply be dynamic.”
• “Even when we don’t have salt in our hair or sand on our feet, we can still slip into a summer state of mind with this slip-on.”
• “We can all use a lift sometimes so we created this strappy racerback tank…”
• “What we love most about this patchwork is its graphic patterning and warm, sophisticated color palette.”

It’s like the waiter who tries to influence my menu choices based on his favorite foods. A recommendation now and then is nice, but it doesn’t matter if the dish includes things I hate, like cilantro, heavy sauce, or too much garlic.

The customer may not always be right. But if I’m doing the buying, I want to be the one who’s most satisfaction with the transaction. 

Sorry, I'm already in a relationship

Not to brag, but there are numerous people pursuing me. They call. They email. They offer enticements to stay in touch.

My response is always the same. Blacklist the phone numbers. Delete emails unopened. Unsubscribe to all offers.

I never explain why, even when pleaded with to give a reason. 

But I'll tell you. 

I don't want a relationship with...

• The manufacturer of my toothbrush
• The online store where I buy running gear
• The contractor who replaced my roof
• The station where I buy gas
• The store where I buy paint

All I want from these -- and all the others who beg me to like, follow, subscribe, complete surveys, or become a member -- is their product. To me, the transaction is finished when products or services are delivered and payment is made.

I don't even call my mother as often as some marketers call me.

Yes, I'm fully aware of the value of repeat customers to a healthy business. And I do consider myself a loyal customer. 

My continued patronage can be assured by quality, service, and value, not constant contacts via digital channels. 

My marriage is the only relationship I want nurtured. I can do without all the marketing-based ones.

Marketing to "e"-verybody

It's a good thing I took a more generalized liberal-arts approach to studying communications than specializing in, say, marketing. Considering how social media continues to create new rules for reaching out and drawing in prospects, my book-learned marketing skills from college are now only quaint reminders of the way things used to be.

Yes, I've adapted to Web 2.0, social networks, and next-generation "e" everything. Still, the technology and its implications continue to leapfrog ahead.

Such was the premise of a recent humor article, Subject: Our Marketing Plan by Ellis Weiner, published in The New Yorker (Oct. 19, 2009). It spoofs the marketing plan of a book publisher, in the form of a letter to one of its authors.

My takeaway (besides the giggles): Not everything "e"-social is better. It's hard to imagine how technology can fully replace good old-fashioned social skills when it comes to touching hearts, engaging minds, building trust, and motivating people to take action.

At some point, it takes the personal touch of a real live person to make a difference.