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Intuitive inklings may be good guides when buying a house or a car. But Steve Cuno thinks they can be disastrous when planning a campaign to launch a product or elect a politician.

Cuno, an author living in Sandy, has written Prove It Before You Promote It , which he says helps take the guesswork out of marketing.

The 230-page book, published last year by John Wiley & Sons, is "brilliant," said Alan Rosenspan, a former creative director at advertising giant Ogilvy & Mather.

"The book is engagingly written and includes key summary points in every chapter, which are a great guide for every advertiser," Rosenspan said in an e-mail. (Click here to read the Salt Lake Tribune article.)
 
 
Got time to kill? Check out my personal website. It has some RESPONSE Agency stuff, but also goes into more of my personal interests, including some music I wrote. Click here to visit SteveCuno.com.
 
Lying for Zicam 01/06/2010
 
Some people assume that a career in advertising means lying for a living. Until more of us learn to say NO to products that don't work, our profession will have a hard time taking umbrage at such accusations. To wit: The makers of Zicam just awarded their advertising account to the Cramer-Krasselt agency in Phoenix. I wish Cramer-Krasselt had turned them down flat. I wish all other agencies would, too.  

Why? Something about lying to make a buck. And, in this case, selling something harmful. Call me a pollyanna, but these don't sit well with me.

How Zicam is medically harmful. Please read this excellent post by Steven Novella, MD, a leader in science-based medicine. Just the opening paragraph is harrowing: "On June 16th the FDA issued a warning advising consumers not to use Zicam Nasal Gel or Nasal Swabs because of reports that it can damage the sense of smell, a condition called anosmia. This event highlights some problems with current regulations of health products." 

Now, back to lying for Zicam. Consider this blurb, taken verbatim from the Zicam website: "Zicam Cold Remedy is an over-the-counter homeopathic medicine that actually reduces the duration and severity of the common cold when taken at the first sign of cold symptoms." 

How does this mislead thee? Let me count the ways. Astute readers will surely point out more. 

1. Zicam is not a "remedy," in that it cures nothing. 

2. Homeopathic preparations are "medicines" only in the loosest sense. No scientifically valid test has ever shown homeopathy to have any effect. (Unless you count the placebo effect. But a placebo effect does not constitute healing or recovery. It simply indicates that the patient imagines lessened symptoms.) 

3. Zicam does not reduce the duration of a cold. No remedy on earth has been shown to do that.  

4. "When taken at the first sign of cold symptoms" is a weasel. It provides a convenient out for Zicam when it fails to perform, which is every time. ("You must have started too late. Your fault, not Zicam's.") 

Four big lies from just one FAQ. If you visit the site, you'll find oodles more. Especially odious are the testimonials from people who mistakenly (and, let's hope, innocently) believe that Zicam worked for them. As a direct marketer, I know that testimonials convince. But testimonials are not evidence. Moreover, those who share them can be and often are mistaken. 

I am aware that the Zicam site features "studies." There are studies, and there are studies. I can do a study that shows that hiring the RESPONSE Agency reduces your risk of dying from lung cancer. 

If you would like to know what does help you beat a cold, the answer is: time. People who use Zicam and other preparations recover neither faster nor more slowly than those who use nothing at all. Save your money.

Let's be honest. Some agencies know darn well when they're spinning falsehoods. But many don't. Few agency people are scientists, making it easy for us to be duped by client-paid PhDs. I regret to say that I have thrice fallen into that trap myself. Twice I learned about the misrepresentations only after the account relationship had ended. The one time I that learned about it in-process, I resigned the business.  

Either way, agencies, show some balls. Turn down prospective products that don't work, and resign any that you may have already taken on. As one who doesn't believe in karma, I won't promise you rewards from the Universe. But, tomorrow morning, you might have a little more respect for the person staring back at you from the bathroom mirror. 

Steve Cuno
 
 
My son Jeff performed his earliest recorded scientific experiment at age five.

After hearing about a friend’s punishment, Jeff wondered if washing one’s mouth with soap really did make it impossible to swear. So he walked into our main bathroom, treated his mouth to a generous helping of Dove, and, to his amazement, found he could still say “damn.” A myth was busted, and a healthy skeptic was born.

Marketers could learn a thing or two from Jeff. Next time you hear someone say “no one reads copy any more” or “upscale people don’t respond to obnoxious late-night TV spots,” or “if your advertising is truly creative it will sell,” don’t just buy it. Check it out. Test it. You may find that “what you’ve always heard” ain’t, in the immortal words of Porgy, necessarily so.

Who knows. Upon completing your experiment, you may, like Jeff, shake your head in wonder and say, “damn.”

 
 
The phone rang this morning. From the caller's introduction, I assumed she wanted to sell me business services. I wasn't in the market, but I'm nice to salespeople. To do otherwise would be rather hypocritical of me. After all, I make sales calls myself. 

So we chatted about her home town, its nickname, and the weather there. We had fun. But, alas, the time came to get on with it, so I said, "I assume you're calling to sell me something." Nope. She was calling to inquire into retaining the agency.

I was completely surprised. And completely glad that I had been pleasant with her.

Years ago, when I worked for another agency, a fellow came to our office unannounced. We assumed he was a salesperson. My boss marched up and seethed, "I don't let my people show up without an appointment, and I'm not going to take it from you." Feeling that was unduly aggressive of my boss, I invited the fellow into my office. There, he apologized graciously for not arranging an appointment—and proceeded to say he had stopped in to see about hiring our shop. "You come highly recommended," he said.

My intercom buzzed. It was my boss telling me that if I didn't throw the fellow out, he would come in and do it himself. "He's a client," I said. My boss came slinking into my office, now cute, cuddly and apologetic. Amazingly, the fellow indeed hired us—and later sent my boss a bag of red hot jaw breakers to "go with his volatile temper." He was a great man. The client, not my boss.

So I'm sure you can see why I breathed a sigh of relief that, this morning, I hadn't followed my former employer's example.

But here's the thing. Regardless of whether you're being hired or sold to, nice is a good idea. We gain nothing by being nasty. On the contrary, we lose. Not only do we needlessly flay someone trying to make a living, we risk vandalizing our inner Dorian Gray.

Even if the caller is a tenacious jerk—it happens—the healthiest, most angst-free course is to skip the verbal assault and simply hang up.
So here's a New Years resolution to consider. Let's be pleasant in our business dealings. Genuinely pleasant. Whether or not we think it's going to fatten our wallet.

Happy New Year.

Steve Cuno
 
 
Some years ago at a business lunch, I noticed something rather unappetizing in my beef bourguignon.

A cigarette butt.

I summoned the manager to express my lack of interest in paying for the meal. Her response was interesting: “You have to understand my position. None of my employees smoke that brand. This must have happened in the packing plant, so it’s not our fault.”

Wait a sec. There’s a cigarette butt in my beef bourguignon, and I have to understand her position? It seemed to me that she needed to understand my position, apologize, and assure me of steps she would take to ensure such a thing never happened again. Anti-nausea medication might have been nice, too.

Fast forward to a scolding one of our clients just received from a customer, who was offended at direct mail addressed to her husband instead of to her. She, not he, makes the family’s business decisions.

A little digging revealed that her husband had opened the business relationship, but that, over time, she assumed responsibility for it. Unfortunately, the database still listed the husband as the primary contact.

Some of our employees felt she should have understood our client’s position. It was, after all, an honest database error. And, some thought she was guilty of having an over-the-top feminist reaction.

But I'm on the woman's side.

Much in the same way I didn’t see a meat packing plant error—just a cigarette butt in my food—this woman didn’t see a database problem. Right or wrong, she saw sexism. She emphatically did not need to understand our client’s position. She needed an apology, at most a brief explanation, and an assurance it wouldn’t happen again.

Database problems happen. We know that. Direct mail recipients don’t know that. So errors like this one are opportunities to update the database and, equally if not more important, win customers by apologizing with class.

As for whether this customer was guilty of an over-the-top feminist reaction: hard to say. I’m male, and I don’t know what it’s like to be a female in business. But I do know that sexism, even the appearance of it, matters these days. 

Many people dislike the new constraints of political correctness. Tough. If it’s important to our customers, we need to work with it, like it or not.

Steve Cuno
 
 
Mr. Cuno deserves high praise for his speech at the James Randi “Amaz!ng Meeting Roundup” held this past summer in Las Vegas. The recent James Randi Educational Foundation Quarterly Newsletter included the comment, “Thank you to our many speakers, especially Steve Cuno, who came roaring out of left field and stole the show.”

Congrats to Mr. Cuno, and a big thanks to the JREF for such a gracious comment.

Joe Szymanski, Agency Principal
 
 
These days it's fashionable to lambast companies for not selling something healthier or more useful. 

Could Hostess sell something healthier than Twinkies? Yup. Could Harlequin publish something better than mindless drivel? Yup. 

Should they? Not for me to say. Moreover, this line of reasoning inevitably leads to questions as to where to draw the proverbial line. Suppose Hostess gave up Twinkies and went into the fresh produce business. The fault-finding wouldn’t cease. (“They should import asparagus only from countries that treat their llamas better.”) Same thing if Harlequin switched to publishing classics. (“How dare they publish Crime and Punishment? The central character is a cold-blooded killer who questions the existence of God.”)

Instead of blaming marketers for what they sell, perhaps it’s time to accept responsibility for what we consume. No one, not even the alleged but non-existent powers of so-called subliminal advertising, can force you to buy against your will. 

So if you object to a product, here's a revolutionary idea: don’t buy it. Nor must you buy your kids every toy they see on TV. Even if they can't tell a commercial from programming, I know of no law of physics preventing you from teaching your kids that nagging is impolite and that not getting everything they want is part of life.

Should some products be banned? Sure. Trouble is, that's a can of worms. What I would cheerfully disallow (acupuncture, chiropractic and assault weapons, for starters), others would vehemently defend. And vice versa.

Meanwhile, what is legal to buy should be legal to market. The two kind of go together. 

As a side note, if you’re a marketer who objects to a product, I suggest declining helping to sell it. That is, provided you have that luxury. I have it, and I exercise it. Products of would-be clients I have declined include software purporting to predict stock prices (impossible), a multi-level company (generally a fraudulent system but for a few notable exceptions), an alternative “medicine” company (quackery, and downright dangerous at that), and a right-wing political organization bordering on fascism (let’s just say they’d have made the KKK proud).

Steve Cuno
 
 
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Old Pepsi logo
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New Pepsi logo
You may know that Pepsi updated its logo this past year. What you may not know is how much Pepsi paid the design firm for the update. 

One. Million. Bucks.

Note to Pepsi: we'd have cheerfully done it for half that.

The design firm defends their epic work (and equally epic price tag) on the grounds that the new logo calls to mind the Earth's magnetic fields and the sun's radiation, thus evoking "...emotive forces [that] shape the gestalt of the brand identity." 

Er, yeah. Right. Got that.

Furthermore, this wasn't the sort of thing a designer could just dream up in a studio. No, no. He had to travel the world to meditate in myriad different settings.

How can any rational person effectively argue with any of the above logic?

Steve Cuno
 
 
When I was the advertising manager of a decent-sized hospital chain, we used direct mail to invite people to tour our newly opened urgent care facility. Knowing that an incentive offer is the Number 2 strategic peg in successful direct mail (extra points for readers who can name Numbers 1 and 3), we promised each visitor a certificate for a free Baskin Robbins ice cream cone.

Within a few days, I received a note from an outraged consumer. He felt it was deplorable that “…a health care organization would encourage people to ingest ice cream.”

(Let me state here and now that I had no idea people were actually ingesting the stuff. We thought they would merely eat it.)

The outraged consumer’s helpful letter concluded with a suggestion that we offer bran muffins instead.

I’m not making this up.

The urgent care center was mobbed with visitors, and the nearest Baskin Robbins ran out of its most popular flavor. Clearly the promotion did its job. Bran muffins might have been healthier, but no one would have come to our party.

Steve Cuno