Brand Blindness
I'm at our New York showroom meeting with John, creative
director from the licensing division of a major entertainment
conglomerate, to discuss the packaging for the introduction of an
antique version of a well-known cartoon character. John's passion
for the character is inspiring, and I'm hoping that the designs
I'll be responsible for will meet his expectations. Halfway into
the conversation he locks me in his gaze and declares, “For the
packaging to work you have to be the character!” Whoa—for a second
I feel like I'm in a Lee Strasberg acting class. I take his
impassioned advice to heart and create an award-winning box,
although the product fails in the marketplace.
Jump to eight years later: my company's senior VP of sales, our
marketing analyst and I are discussing a sub-brand of our baby
line. Named M.V.B. for Most Valuable Baby, it's a line of
sports-themed infant items. The VP asks me what I think of the name
and the trade dress. I tell him I think it's clever and that new
fathers would be attracted to the sports-like graphics that my team
created for the packaging and POP. Very diplomatically, they
disagree.
There are three key points to their rationale. First, our
company's primary purchasers are female, and too masculine a
display design could turn them off to the product. Secondly, they
argued, most women probably wouldn't get that the M.V.B. moniker is
a play on the sports abbreviation M.V.P.—Most Valuable Player.
Finally, there may be resistance from the retailer to placing a
display and packaging with a primary color palette in their
primarily pastel retail environment.
I put aside my ego and acknowledge the validity of these
arguments. I also realize that I've been guilty of something I
instinctively responded to eight years earlier in my meeting with
John: brand blindness.
I define brand blindness as the tunnel vision that results from
a creative being too close to the product, message and culture of a
company. Especially vulnerable are in-house designers, who end up
forming unrealistic assumptions about how their company, its
product and its services are perceived by the public, leading to
flawed strategy and design. Another result of this affliction is
that those same designers tend to abandon research, ignore their
audience and create designs that pay homage to their brand instead
of successfully leveraging it.
John's near-fanatical devotion to his brand has resulted in huge
successes for his company. Under his watchful eye the quality and
consistency of the product and packaging has been excellent. But in
his and his company's zeal to create the perfect brand, they have
often forgotten the wants and needs of their audience and many
product lines have missed the mark and failed as a result, as
illustrated by my company's misadventure.
As an in-house creative, I too eat, breathe and live my
company's brand. There are obvious advantages to this when either
my team or I set out to develop a new design that represents our
company to the public. Less obvious are the pitfalls I've
mentioned. In order to address this problem, our team has adopted a
previous presidential campaign slogan with a slight change as our
motto: “It's the customer, stupid!”.
Specifically, we now ask a set of questions before starting any
new project: Who buys the product? Where is the first point of
contact made? And, is the brand message clearly communicated in the
design? Though these are obvious criteria to establish before
taking on any project, our brand blindness has forced us to be more
rigorous and disciplined in addressing these issues.
Ironically, when we started asking these questions we found that
not only had we been jumping to conclusions about our audience but
we had been making fatally flawed assumptions about our brand as
well. When we evaluated our counter displays we saw that we had
actually been giving too little real estate to our logo. In
inflating the importance of our brand we mistakenly kept the logo
smaller because we felt it was so powerful it didn't need to be
that large. In looking at the point of contact we also saw that our
displays were lost in a sea of product in poor conditions, further
diminishing any brand presence we had in the retail environment.
Our team is currently working on a consistent trade dress to
improve our brands visual presence in the marketplace.
There are numerous other examples of how I've been a victim of
brand blindness, but the main point I believe that needs to be
stressed is that we all have to be aware that we harbor assumptions
about our brands. What's obvious to us about our brand's attributes
may very well be hidden from the consumer, and creating
self-indulgent tributes to our brands is a surefire way to miss the
mark in connecting with consumers. Questioning each project, its
audience and its objectives is the best way for us in-house
designers to beat brand blindness and “see the light.”
About the Author: Andy Epstein is a veteran in-house design manager, having created and grown in-house design teams for Commonwealth Toy and Gund before restructuring and growing the 100-person creative team at Bristol-Myers-Squibb. Most recently he led an in-house design team at Designer Greetings, a greeting card company, developing the company's product and point-of-sale materials. This fall Andy accepted an offer to lead a 40+ multidisciplinary managed services in-house team at Merck Pharmaceuticals. He has written and spoken extensively on in-house issues, and was the co-founder of InSource, an association dedicated to providing support to in-house designers and design-team managers. Andy edits and contributes to the HOW InHOWse blog, published The Corporate Creative with HOW Books and is currently heading up AIGA’s in-house INitiative.