Great marketers have great guts. Leo Burnett didn’t need a legion of focus groups to come up with the Marlboro Man. Steve Jobs, arguably the greatest marketing mind ever, famously eschewed market research because he didn’t think customers knew what they wanted until he showed it to them.
Yet big data and technology are clearly revolutionizing marketing. Gartner predicts that CMO’s will soon be spending more on IT than CIO’s. VentureBeat recently reported that marketing technology companies have attracted a hefty $50 billion in investment.
Still, most marketers would prefer to be more like Leo Burnett and Steve Jobs. They take pride in their “marketing guts” and want to follow their instincts, which makes it hard for them to succeed in the era of big data. Too often this is presented as a false choice. The future of marketing is not technology or intuition, but successfully integrating both.
The future, in retrospect, always seems inevitable. When Steve Jobs unveiled a sleek new device, it felt like it was just meant to be. When Elon Musk gives an interview, it almost seems as if he had dreamt Tesla up in his childhood bedroom and only gotten around to it more recently. Yet that’s not how it happens.
In Six Degrees, network scientist Duncan Watts stresses that discovery is done in a messy and ambiguous world, by “real people who suffer the same kind of limitations and confusions as anybody else.” It is, above all, more a matter of persistence than epiphany.
And that’s something that we often forget. Brilliance doesn’t arrive on a rainbow, but can come in the guise of an idiot, muttering incoherently about something nonsensical. Yet somewhere along the line, someone noticed that there was wheat amongst the chaff and helped midwife the idea. It is those stories, not fairy tales, that should guide us.
Like many millennials today, Yale classmates Henry Luce and Briton Hadden left their jobs to create a startup. They found newspapers dry, longwinded and boring and thought they could do better by presenting stories in a faster paced, more personality centered format.
In 1923 they launched Time magazine and it became a runaway success. Hadden died of a freak infection in 1928, but Luce went on to create Fortune and Life in the 30’s and eventually build the greatest publishing empire the world has ever seen.
Many believe that publishing is dead, but the truth is that there is more opportunity now than ever before. It took Luce decades to build his empire, but Bleacher Report and Huffington Post took just a few short years to create hundreds of millions of dollars in. The real problems old-line publishers face today are not ones of talent or even technology, but culture.
When Steve Jobs returned to Apple in 1997, Michael Dell was asked if he had any advice for the legendary tech entrepreneur. “What would I do?” he said, “I’d shut it down and give the money back to the shareholders,”
What followed was the greatest corporate revival the planet has ever seen. Rather than breaking Apple up, Jobs created the world’s most innovative product line and transformed Apple from a struggling has-been to the most profitable company on earth.
It’s an intriguing model. Find a visionary leader—or become one yourself—and watch the money roll in. Unfortunately, in the history of the world, there has only been one Steve Jobs, one Elon Musk and one Henry Ford, so it’s a good idea to have a plan B. Here’s what you can do while you’re waiting for the next Steve Jobs to come your way.
In Silicon Valley, the PayPal Mafia reins supreme. So much so that it is hard to think of any successful technology startup in the last ten years—from Facebook and LinkedIn to YouTube and Yelp—that hasn’t been touched by it in some way.
The “don” of the PayPal mafia, Peter Thiel, is one of the most intriguing characters in business today. He was a founder of PayPal, as well of data analysis firm Palantir, and is also a successful investor, creating both Clarium Capital and the Founders Fund.
Yet it is not only Thiel’s success that makes him interesting, but also his contrarian views, such as his libertarian politics and the program that pays kids to drop out of college. Thiel recently published Zero to One, a book based on a startup course he teaches at Stanford, which summarizes his philosophy and gives four rules for creating a great business.
I really hate pop-up ads. It seems that whenever I click on something that looks interesting, I’m distracted by something that doesn’t interest me in the least—a subscription offer, an app download, a conventional ad, whatever. It’s maddening. I could kill the guy who invented them!
Then I recently met the guy who invented pop-ups, Ethan Zuckerman at the Business Innovation Factory Summit (BIF) and he was, in fact, very nice. He apologized for his creation, not just to me and not just to the audience, but to the entire world with a mea culpa in The Atlantic.
Yet Zuckerman’s apology falls flat. The truth is that it really isn’t his fault. If he didn’t invent pop-ups, somebody else would have. The Internet is not a moral agent, but reflects our own base needs and desires. The online advertising culture, as crass and offensive as it may be, continues to thrive because we prefer things that way. The problem isn’t the Internet, it’s us.
Marketer’s like to repeat the quote, “I know I waste half of my ad budget, I just don’t know which half.” No one knows who first said it—it’s been attributed to a number of people—but the fact that it gets repeated so often is testament to how strongly it resonates.
So it shouldn’t be surprising that marketers like the idea of “Influentials,” seemingly ordinary people who determine what others think, do and buy. A recent study of 1300 marketers found that 74% of them planned to invest in influencer marketing over the next 12 months. That is truly an incredible amount.
However, there’s good reason to believe that it’s all a waste of time and effort. While the idea of influentials may be intuitively convincing, there is very little, if any, evidence that they actually can improve performance—or even exist at all. So before you embark on another influencer campaign, consider these 4 reasons why you shouldn’t.
Nothing inspires both hope and fear like discussions about the future. From H. G. Wells’ Time Machine to The Terminator movies, utopia and dystopia are intertwined. Our visions range from promise and possibility to industrial grade cruelty and dysfunction.
The annual Business Innovation Factory Summit (BIF) is a place where these hopes and fears are not only discussed, but treated as concrete problems to be solved through innovation. It is a unique gathering, where famous personalities like Walt Mossberg and Dan Pink mix with an eclectic assortment of social entrepreneurs and corporate executives.
This year was no different. From an obstetric nurse seeking to curtail deaths related to pregnancy in poor countries to an activist’s struggle to save the world’s fisheries, innovators shared their stories. Some were inspiring, others were heartbreaking, but what really stole the show was a 14 year old girl who, along with her sister, built a robotics company.
Facebook has a monthly audience of nearly a billion visitors. Other top sites, like Twitter, Pinterest and LinkedIn, attract hundreds of millions. By now, nobody doubts the power of social platforms, although few marketers have been able to exploit them successfully.
As Harvard’s Mikołaj Piskorski makes clear in his new book, A Social Strategy, businesses have a long way to go before they truly begin to unlock the potential of the social web. Most marketers, in fact, use social media much as they would ordinary media—to broadcast messages.
The real potential lies in utilizing social platforms to create solutions for customers’ social problems. While consumers are understandably skittish about corporations interjecting themselves their personal conversations, they appreciate the opportunity to meet and build relationships with others. And that, it turns out, is an enormous opportunity.
In 2000, Reed Hastings, the founder of a fledgling company called Netflix, flew to Dallas to propose a partnership to Blockbuster CEO John Antioco and his team. The idea was that Netflix would run Blockbuster’s brand online and Antioco’s firm would promote Netflix in its stores. Hastings got laughed out of the room.
We all know what happened next. Blockbuster went bankrupt in 2010 and Netflix is now a $28 billion dollar company, about ten times what Blockbuster was worth. Today, Hastings is widely hailed as a genius and Antioco is considered a fool. Yet that is far too facile an explanation.
Antioco was, in fact, a very competent executive—many considered him a retail genius—with a long history of success. Yet for all his operational acumen, he failed to see that networks of unseen connections would bring about his downfall. Over the past 15 years, scientists have learned much about how these networks function and how his fate could have been avoided.