Globalisation – this is just the beginning?

There’s much talk of Covid ending globalisation – I disagree. It may end consultants living their lives on planes, reliance on China for widgets or PPE and dinner plates filled with New Zealand lamb, Mexican courgettes and Dutch lettuce, but the new virtual existence is borderless. Physical globalisation may come to a halt, but this is only the beginning of cultural globalisation.

The organisations that have started to look post-Covid have focused so far on planning the logistics – which markets to play in, how to de-risk supply chains, what technology employees need to work from home. These readjustments are necessary, but they will only succeed in future proofing the organisation if the brand and cultural elements are also taken care of.

Talent

Virtual working doesn’t just mean existing employees can work from a beach in Bali. It means the people from Bali can now also work for the same organisation. Recruiting from a global talent pool will require greater flexibility throughout the search process, plus greater linguistic, international tax and legal capabilities. Education will need to allow learning of anything from anywhere. The rural Bali high school preparing kids for corporate life, as well as an expansion of remote learning – Democratising education and fuelling the future talent pipeline is an opportunity for organisations to consider.

Competitive Pay

Living and working from Goa would prove significantly more cost effective for employees than doing the same job from a London coffee bar. Cost-of living dependent renumeration will need to become the norm. Facebook already announced that they will reduce the pay of those living in less expensive areas and stop the $15,000 bonus currently given to those living 10miles from the office. As it becomes more cost effective to hire people living where costs are low, the individuals that choose to do so will gain a competitive advantage. Property and general living costs will inevitably adapt but London/Goa parity isn’t going to happen overnight. Local employees will be anxious over the increased competition, local economies over the loss of contribution. Organisations must balance this with the excitement of global talent and governments.

Brand

Taking advantage of the global talent pool will require a globally appealing brand, internal and external brand. The employee brand must now appeal to international needs, aspirations and rhythms – Leeds, Luxemburg and Lagos. Whether entering new markets or withdrawing from them, the external brand must continue playing its part too. Working for that well known and loved brand is not likely to change anytime soon.  An integrated, borderless brand will be more vital than ever. On the flip side, organisations forced to localise operations must create hyper-local brands and marketing to attract employees, local custom and societal favour.

Culture

Adapting collaboration, communication and care (in some cases at least) for virtual working have become hot topics. These don’t just need to be fit for virtual working, they need to be fit for international working and workers. A culture that encompasses the values, rhythms and behaviours of people globally, whilst remaining true to the organisations core will be key for accommodating todays local and tomorrow’s global workforce. On the reverse, the organisations that localise operations must reconnect with the nationalistic and hyperlocal elements of their culture.

The new world may be more constrained by physical borders but when anyone can work from anywhere, it is liberated from them. As heads come above water, those that focus on the former will suffocate. Those that take advantage of the latter, through focusing on people, brand and culture, have the opportunity to thrive. 

 

The influence of the brands you don’t ‘know’

“But I don’t know any brands. I don’t pay any attention to advertising.”

A familiar phrase to anyone who works in brand, communications or marketing.

This time it was uttered by my mother in protest to a Christmas Day round of The Logo Game.  A woman who, in my lifetime, has only grocery shopped at Waitrose, driven Volkswagen Golfs and worn Barbour wax jackets. A woman who insists on a particular brand of tonic with her gin and shudders at the thought of own brand …..

Her protest was overruled. And she did pretty well – other than failing to guess the fast food chain with the clue ‘royal’. She even knew many brands I did not.

What got me thinking however, was the recurring theme amongst all players. The feeling that “I know what you mean. I can picture it. But I just can’t think what it is.”

This was uttered in response to:

• “What colour are Walkers Roast Chicken crisps?” despite the questioned buying them not infrequently
• “What colour are the letters in the PG tips logo?” despite the questioned actively avoiding them
• And, “What colour is the triangle in Quality Streets?” despite the questioned having eaten hundreds in their life, and many in the past month.

Acting in accordance with brand preference and perception, without explicit awareness or intent, is not uncommon.

Whether people care to admit it or not, very few are immune to the implicit influence of brands. They buy, or avoid, brands with certainty, but lack the supporting rational. By definition, people consume intuitively. Decisions are on the basis of hunches and feelings, not reasoning and explicit awareness. And this draws into question one of marketing departments favoured KPIs – consumer awareness, specifically un-prompted.

There are undoubtedly benefits of consumers being able to think or talk about a brand or product without being prompted to – not least, recommending and advocating to others. But, the tendency to focus on this as a metric is misleading and can result in the misattribution of resources.

Some consumers will buy Cadbury’s new Peanut Caramel Crisp upon entering a store, being driven down the confectionary isle by ‘a feeling there was something they wanted to try’ and then recognising the pack at shelf. But, if asked, they would not be able to recall the name of the product or the colour of the pack. This would fail to deliver the required un-prompted awareness KPI – but it would still deliver against the more important sales targets.

Marketing is not the only field late to appreciate the power of implicit knowledge. Economics, driven by the work of Daniel Kahneman, is slowly waking up to an appreciation of the brain’s automatic and unconscious System 1, having focused for years on the effortful conscious System 2. Neuroscience itself, is only just starting to understand knowledge in isolation of the hippocampus – the area previously attributed responsible, but reliant on explicit awareness of, learning and memory.

 

The new field of thought proposes that new learning and memory can take place in the brain’s cerebellum. Cells here respond to stimuli instantly, before the conscious mind becomes aware of either the stimulus or the response. Thus, consumers are able to recognise, and place in their baskets, products without realising their exact rational. Furthermore, they are unable to recall the name or colour of, even their favoured products, during festive board games.

Marketers need to appreciate sales, whether motivated explicitly or implicitly.

Individuals need to appreciate they do know brands, implicitly if not explicitly.

Both should settle any doubts over a round of The Logo Game.

No such thing as neutral

No such thing as neutral

None.

 

Everything said, written and decided is done so with inclination. Everything an individual is exposed to – marketing, literature, supermarket shelves – is loaded with another’s inclination. Everything including, and perhaps none more so, than media content.

Bias and inclination have always existed but debate over whether they should be permitted has heightened. Recent debates around media neutrality, fake news and a ‘post-truth’ era have focused on the role of creators and curators, blaming them whilst excusing the consumer.

But, consumers should bear some of the burden too.

 

Awareness of failures

Daniel Kahneman¹ has led the overhaul of the traditional economic view that human beings are wholly logical, rational entities. They do not weigh up the pros and cons of every possibility, scrutinise every fact or render the environment irrelevant. Acceptance that human beings operate according to mental shortcuts (heuristics) and bias, rather than exhaustive analysis of pros and cons, is becoming the norm. The theory now needs to be applied to the content neutrality debate².

 

The creators and curators

Creators are now peers, as well as journalists. Curators now peers and social networks, as well as large scale broadcasters. These shifts are not the cause of bias in the media industry though. Audiences have always been led – and manipulated – to serve the agenda of the creators and curators.

News has always been broadcast with inclination, the defining attribute of bias. The stone-carved government bulletins of Ancient Rome only communicated what the government wanted the public to know. The newspapers of the 15^th to 19^th century only published what aligned with the title’s positioning. The papers and broadcasters of the 20^th century only broadcast what aligned with the ruling mogul’s vision. The decision to publish, broadcast or tweet, let alone the narrative told, is in and of itself a bias. Even when a subject is a real issue, the weighting it receives determines the perceived magnitude, as well as the interpretation. The fragmentation of journalism has not changed this, it has merely expanded the number of individuals able to publish their inclination. And as a result, influence public perceptions.

Many believe this diffusion of control is a good thing. The ability of a small number to manipulate the opinion of the masses has been diminished. One downside to this is a reduction in the number of filters content has to go through before it is consumed. The average blog does not undergo fact checking or third-party editing, few even cite sources; the average tweet is subject to negligible thought, let alone, verification. But all exist to communicate the opinion of the creator. Content – no matter who created, or curated it – is loaded with inclination and bias.

Many people claim to be aware of these biases. Some 64% of Brits do not believe their media covers all sides of the story³, a further 43% do not believe it covers news accurately³. Yet, these people remain influenced.

 

The not-so-innocent consumer

Not only are messages of questionable content still taken on board, they are often shared. A significant proportion of people, 23%, admit to having shared false news on social media, 14% knowingly⁴. The bias content comes laden with provide a better explanation for this than, as the study cites, ‘to raise the profile of false news’ or ‘comedy value’⁴

Firstly, the tenancy to overestimate one’s own abilities leads to inflated confidence in identifying fake information. 84% of individuals being confident in their ability to spot fake news⁴ is grounded by comparison to, a statistically impossible, 80% of individuals rating themselves above average drivers⁶ . The need to protect ones’ self and world view – whether that be as a good driver, or an informed member of society – prevails over almost any other human bias. Just like media creators and curators, individuals seek to serve their own agendas.

Logic may argue that internalising or sharing content known to be false would undermine one’s self-view, and for that matter the worlds view of the self, but this does not seem to be the case. The term ‘post-truth‘⁸  has brought to light the enduring influence of content later proven false. It appears that news and media content is subject to the primacy effect⁹, that is, the tenancy to recall and hold true the first thing heard, irrespective of what comes later. This enduring influence is only exasperated by authority and social biases.

Journalists and broadcasters have always enjoyed authoritive status, resulting from perceived knowledge. Even in the media-cynical 00s, when journalists fell to the fourth-least trusted profession (25%, behind politicians, government ministers, and estate agents)⁵, they still held significant influence over the public’s beliefs and opinions. For the same reason doctors’ orders are followed, media is consumed complicity. The fragmentation of media has not eradicated the authority bias. Instead, it has granted a greater number of individuals perceived authority, and the resulting influence.

Today we even know who these people are –  what they look like, what they eat for breakfast, where they shop and where they go on holiday – heightening their influence further. This knowledge enables selection of content from similar and liked creators and curators, not only confirming the self-view, but reducing the likelihood of questioning the content. The social bias increasingly present in content enhances the influence of content from authority, and provides it to the content of peers. Nowhere is this more evident than in social media, surrounded by friends and admired ones, able to make consumption visible.

 

Whose fact checking?

Responsibility has always been attributed to the creators and curators. This duty should not be alleviated. But, consumers should take some responsibility too.

Creators and curators have always produced content with bias and inclination, enabled by authority, growing social influence and the consumers’ need for self-reinforcement. And ignorance of these biases. But today, there is awareness of these biases. Awareness is not automatically followed by correction but it does open the door to it.

The greatest impact consumers can have on reducing the bias of content is, not by blaming creators and curators, but by taking responsibility themselves. Scrutinising and questioning, rather than remaining passive readers, watchers and sharers.

In an ideal world, content would be neutral as well as factual. Except, this would fail to serve the needs of the opinionated creators, the mogul curators or the insecure consumer. The degree of inclination has probably slipped too far, but it would not have been able to if consumers had taken a more active role in questioning and cross-referencing content.

There may be no such thing a thing as neutral, but acknowledging this enables control to be taken back.

 

 

Sources

1 – https://kahneman.socialpsychology.org

2 – http://www.lse.ac.uk/study/executiveEducation/customisedExecutiveEducation/clientStories/LSE-Custom-Programmes-Rise-Behavioural-Economics.pdf

3 – http://www.globescan.com/news_archives/bbcreut_country.html

4 – http://www.journalism.org/2016/12/15/many-americans-believe-fake-news-is-sowing-confusion/

5 – https://www.ipsos-mori.com/researchpublications/researcharchive/3685/Politicians-are-still-trusted-less-than-estate-agents-journalists-and-bankers.aspx

6 – https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/3730094

7 – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Authority_bias

8 – https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/post-truth

9 – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serial_position_effect

The limits of January limits

 

It’s officially the dullest and most depressing month of the year.

It’s not just me who finds January dull and depressing – January frequently tops lists of the most depressing month and contains the joyous Blue Monday (the third Monday).

No one wants to do or consume anything fun.

Wallets and credit cards are buried away. People only venture out (in the grey and damp) to go to work and the gym. Everyone’s on a diet or health regime of some sort or another; ‘being sensible’, the notorious #dryjanuary’, the latest trend: sirtfoods or god forbid #vegananuary (yes, apparently it’s a thing).

It’s well documented that new starts, o’clocks, Mondays, 1^st of the months and obviously new years are a time fresh starts. This makes perfect psychological sense as they provide the trigger to make a change and allow our brains to keep tasks separate.

I have no opposition to people trying to improve their mental, physical or financial well-beings. But what gets me is the ridiculousness of the limits people place on themselves after (and before) such times of gluttony.

 

Christmas has turned into a prolonged indulgence of ridiculous and perhaps grotesque proportions. We must treat ourselves as well as others, make everything a little (or a lottle) more enjoyable/fun/exciting, purchase things we don’t need and/or can’t afford and consume the most incredible amounts of food and drink. The usual is no longer acceptable –we must shun the everyday.

One couldn’t possible have a night in, walk away from the somewhat pricey dress they see in store, go to the gym, buy the basics range or say no to a second dessert. They must go out every night, drink and eat as much as possible, stock the pantry only from the finest range, neglect their finances, health, fitness and in many cases self-respect.

And then all of a sudden it’s January and the limits are imposed.

I’ve often wandered what people do with the leftover mince pies in the pantry, the 21 boxes of chocolates they received, the Baileys no one drank on Christmas Day and the clothes they bought themselves? Do they walk around the house impeccably well dressed, hide the chocolates in the cellar and the credit cards in blocks of ice?

This year I seem to have found my answer.

On New Years Eve a friend asked for another drink as she wanted to make the most of it before dry January. The following day a friend described the last pair of shoes she’d bought before handing her card over to her boyfriend. Then yesterday a friend announced she was going home (from a burger and fries) lunch to finish her last box of chocolates before the diet began.

It seems the loom of the limiting ramps the human consumption machine from ‘high’ to ‘overdrive’ before the ‘efficiency’ button is abruptly hit.

As someone who doesn’t engage in any form of January limiting, I’m not sure whether I complain more or less.  Yes, I’m doing, eating and drinking whatever I like, whenever I like but trying to find people to do this with is like pulling teeth and teasing people only remains fun for so long.

Good job I know two friends who have fallen off #dryjanuary already.

No internet

A few mornings ago I awoke to a terrifying situation – no wifi!

What I hear you cry, a mid twenties, advertising-ish yuppie (or yuccie) in central London. I know, this is apocalyptic.

I’d been awake all of 10 minutes and fallen into a state of panic probably 18 times. The only saving grace was that the kettle is not linked up to the internet so I was still able to make some coffee.

I then sat down to read, but oh no. iPad, phone nor laptop would connect despite the little wifi symbol showing full. I curse, I open settings, I curse again then just start prodding the screen as if this would help. Then I realize TalkTalk had disconnected us in preparation for our flat move first thing in the morning opposed to last thing at night –  f*#^!?@s.

My mind goes in to overdrive, I’m not going to have wifi for 1 maybe 3 whole days. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.

I mean, how do I read, watch Netflix, make a reservation for dinner, do my last bits of Christmas shopping, book my train tickets, keep on top of Instagram and the numerous festive Facebook message groups going on?

Panicking, I figured some exercise would do me good. So before jumping on my bike down to the pool I checked the weather – oh no, I couldn’t do that either. When was the last time I opened the window and stuck my arm out to test the temperature, or for that matter just opened the curtains?

My mind started to wander. What other tasks am I going to have to revert to primitive, non-internet based methods for? Shopping. TV. Recipes (okay, I’m a Londoner – ordering). Talking to people. Reading. Fact checking…

I started to think this could be quite fun as I try to work out the last time I went without internet for more than 20 minutes. Even this time last month, in the middle of an Indonesian forest I had internet access. Three Feel at Home realizes the importance of being able to post a selfie whilst stood on top of a live volcano.

It’s then that I glanced down at my iPhone as it pinged with a Whatsap message – of course 4G!

I immediately picked up the phone to check the connection was real.

It was and in a split second my potential excitement gave way to relief.

In joy, I fired of a couple of Whatsaps, iMessages, checked email, instagram, Facebook, Twitter then the weather before jumping on my bike happy in the knowledge that I could return to normal life.

It’s during my swim (which has the same creative and reflective power as showering for me) I contemplated the ridiculousness of my panic. Flat move aside, I’m a Londoner. The likelihood of me having spent more than half an hour in the place at anyone time was next to zero, every coffee shop, delicatescence, restaurant and bar on my doorstep has wifi, as do the homes of my friends and family. And for for every step (or Uber journey) in-between there’s 4G.

I stick my head back under the water as I admit the scale of this #firstworldproblem!

The similarities of Advertising & Banking

They both speak of the hey days, casting back to the boom or the Mad Men days. The days of long knuckling lows & debaurcherous highs.

Trading floors & creative departments all have that someone still acting like it’s the 60s, determined not to let the good old days disappear completely. They’re still absent from 12 on Fridays, are known at all the best local eateries, dress somewhat eccentrically & of course have a bottle of Scotch in their bottom draw.

Both industries are still slated for their lavish ways & the targets of both media & public outrage. Bankers are to blame for every financial problem that exists in the country, from small businesses only lasting a month to the child not getting enough pocket money. Advertising is to blame for consumerism & childhood obesity. The industry is the sole cause of women blowing six months salary on a handbag & making children eat candy. Sadly this means both industries are heavily regulated, to the point of unsettling the the creative foundations they are built upon.

Creatives & traders alike are shown to be more extroverted, narcissistic & even psychopathic than the average man on the street (& yes they are much more likely to be men). That’s not to say the industries are full of axe wielding serial killers (though if we consult the stats, there must be some amongst us) but the personality profile of these industries are certainly distinct.

Both industries are heavily driven by emotion. Sorry bankers but it’s proven, read The Hour between the Dog and the Wolf. Both industries rely upon a lot of data, spend significant time analysing, modelling, documenting, looking at the past, predicting the future, justifying & building the case for why this is a good idea and ultimately why our clients should do something. In both cases, the client saying “yes” results in a significant ego boost as well as financial gain. We both work with ideas which are merely that; opinions, ideas & concepts, reliant on someone else saying “yes” (or tweaking to within an inch of recognizability) before they become reality. These ideas & our passions for them being the right thing to do are driven by emotion, no matter how much we say we go only by the data, the models, the facts – it’s proven – we all trade & create  emotivly.

As one should expect from  such alpha male industries, both have claimed their territories. Advertising has Madison Avenue. Banking has Wall Street. In London, Soho & The City, plus true to ‘needing to go one bigger’ form, the purpose built Canary Wharf.

Style is of course vital. In the early days, bankers & ad men could be identified by well fitting, albeit differently styled, suits. The latters alternated with tweed. Nowadays, bankers have retained the well fitting suits (to the joy of many a female) but may wear ties loosened or left in the draw for client meetings. Admen have drifted slightly more, swapping smart & tweed for the brown shoe, blue shirt, dark jean uniform alternated with, well anything. Purple blazers, red pants, even shorts & flip-flops are common features of creative departments. The styles themselves may have changed from the early days but their identifiability has not.

No alpha male territory would be complete without it’s attractive females & neither industry disappoints. The women of both disproportionately more attractive than the population at large.

Adland has Mad Men. Banking has Wolf of Wall Street.

Not only are both the subjects of some of the most popular TV & movies of recent times, but the nostalgic exaggeration of their respective heyday’s stereotype are not dissimilar. Neither are the character’s traits or life styles: Don Draper, Jordan Belfort.

At dinner parties these references are frequently called upon (aloud or in peoples heads) in response to the wonderful question “so what do you do?”, leaving the respondent with little alternative but to smile & nod politely. Yes, our lives are just like Don & Jordans. Yes we all make millions by drinking scotch & offending people.

I could go on but I’ve probably offended both industries sufficiently. The only thing I can’t decide is which industry is going to be more repulsed by this notion of similarity than the other.

It’s not bankers fault, it’s ours

“It doesn’t matter how many best sellers you write, if you spend your time with bankers you’ll always feel poor” a very poignant quote from the wonderful David Brooks.

Bankers get a bad wrap. I have far too many links to both  lovers & haters to pass comment on whether this is usually deserved but this particular point of contention really isn’t their fault. I’t ours.

They didn’t ask everyone else to compare their own lifestyles to theirs. They didn’t invite people to walk longingly around their favourite shoe shops with no intention of buying a thing, spend three months salary on holidays to their favourite destinations or browse the homes they are selling on Rightmove. And they certainly didn’t invite the press to publicise every ‘extravagance’ of their lifestyle for the nation to frown upon.

I could zoom in here on the term “Extravagance”. Defined as the lack of restraint in spending money or resources. Surely taking a loan to go on a two week trip to Hawaii shows less restraint than when the financial impact of the trip is felt like water of a ducks back? But this is not the point I am trying to make today.

The point is: everything is relative.

Whatever we do in life, we’ll always compare to something, to someone “better”.

No matter how well we did in our GCSEs, we’d always compare to the kid at the top of the class & despite them having no friends, social life, sporting or musical talents we’ll still feel useless.

No matter how pretty we are, we’ll always compare ourselves to Eva Mendez & feel like an ugly duckling.

No matter how well our Victoria Sponge turn out, we’ll always compare it to Mary Berry and apologise to our guests for our incompetence.

And no matter how much we earn, we’ll always want more!

How many of us have thought ‘I’ll be happy when I earn £x’ but then we get there & think ‘ooh, if I just earn’t another £5k I could xy&z’?

It’s human nature. We always compare ourselves to the next best. We forget or filter out the majority already below our current standard. As we progress so do our comparison sets. Physically, the places & people we spend our time with, mentally, the people & things we compare ourselves to.

And to make ourselves feel just a little bit worse about ourselves, we also have an innate tendency to make aspirational comparisons. Comparisons to things, to people we know are the exceptions, we know we are unique & often don’t actually want to achieve but still we compare ourselves to these “superior” things.

Bankers, to most people, form part of these aspirational sets.

And for this reason, it is not their fault.

It’s all relative.

We’d do better, feel happier, more satisfied & less angry if we honed our comparison sets to people like ourselves or reframed things to ask, how many bankers have written any books at all?

What’s your passion?

This week a great mentor, friend & fellow behavioural geek (who writes a very good blog) sent me an article titled Screw Finding Your Passion, it’s sent my over curious side into overdrive.

If passion is defined as “a strong & barely controllable urge”, surely we all know what our passions are?

We’re aware of the things we fight to stop ourselves doing, texting the ex we know we shouldn’t, watching one more episode of Breaking Bad; & the things we can’t help but do, eating another slice of chocolate cake, buying the dress despite being broke…right?

So why do so many people battle to ‘find their passions’?

Because we’re not right, we’re wrong.

We lack self awareness, the ability to zoom out & realise

our lives are a manifestation of our passions.

The holidays we go on, the bars we go to, the books we choose to read, the topics of our Buzzfeed vortexes, the sports we watch & play, the clothes we wear, the cars we drive, the things we talk about…

Yes searching may throw up some new passions but we already have so many, we just need to realise that our lives are already filled with so many. We don’t need to search we just need to be aware.

If we need to find our passions we should consult

our bookshelves, friends & browsing histories.

My bookshelves are 80% marketing & behavioural science, 9% cookbooks, 10% jigsaws & my Kindle takes up the last 1% of shelf space.

My friends know I’m not available when tennis is on, frequently roll their eyes at me commenting on takeaway packaging, carrier bags & adverts but am always saying ‘we have to go to this restaurant / bar I just found’.

Safari would be all too keen to tell you about the time I spent last night googling the protein powder for DOMS & this morning browsing accommodation for backpacking in Indonesia  instead of doing work.

There’s not much these three bases have left off. And that’s from less than 24 hours.

So next time you need to ‘find a passion’ look no further than our friends & appartment.

I read. A lot. But it’s not often I read something I continue to think & talk about for more than a few days, but this I have, I shall. Whether the author realised or not (I think he did, he sounds quite smart), like all the best things in life the beauty comes from simplicity & grounding in human truth.

So Halloween appears to have become a ‘thing’

Halloween has become a ‘thing’.

This weekend I’ve seen more pumpkins than I did in my entire childhood (on a farm with veg garden), more face painted, lingerie (and laundry) clad men than is good for any one and more ghost shaped chocolates than even I could eat.

When I was a kid (which isn’t that long ago) you’d only hear “what are you wearing” or start to see a few skull sweets and pumpkins the week prior. But now, we see them for at least a month in advance before having them literally shoved in our faces the weekend of.

Is it because we really love pumpkins? I doubt it: they’re a vegetable which Brits aren’t not known to be particularly fond of.

Did the recession force kids to trick or treat because their parents wouldn’t buy them sweets? I doubt it: Brits prudish attitude would prevent them fro ever being so forthright. Are rags and face paint part of the backlash against mainstream beauty? I doubt this too: even ‘alternatives’ have limits.

So what has fuelled the rise & RISE of Halloween? Marketing.

Cards, outfits, novelty sweets only available for a limited amount of time. How could we possibly resist? Brands know the value of scarcity in driving interest, the perception of cool and crucially making us want things. They also know how to associate their slimy skull sweets with people we think are seriously cool so we just have to go buy them for…for…for ourselves I guess. And crucially, brands now have the online, social world to push these messages through ensuring we think our friends are going to be Halloween-ing too so we have to join in and let’s face it, out do them.

But why now? Americanisation.

To me, the sudden adoption of Halloween is another indicator of the Americanisation of the UK. Everything they do, we copy. Sometimes well, sometimes with a British twist, sometimes not so well. Some adoptions I’m for: decent burgers, hot dogs, fried chicken, Black Friday. Some I’m not: donuts, cupcakes, suing culture… Britain’s trying pretty hard to do Halloween just as well as it’s big brother: pumpkins, bespoke adverts, pumpkins, novelty sweets, pumpkins, club nights, pumpkins, movie events, pumpkins, kids entertainment, pumpkins, sexy outfits, more pumpkins…

Yet despite Halloween having become a thing, working in marketing, having constant discourse with America and loving most of the above, I appear to have forgotten to celebrate Halloween.

I guess they have to do something with all the left over novelties. The benefits of decreased demand.

Gym time behavioural economics

Today I fell victim to social pressure.

Yes, at almost 30 years of age (the baby face may mean I still get asked for ID when buying wine (or sherry) but I am actually nearer 30 than 20) despite everything my mind and body were telling me, I gave way. And now I can not walk.

I was not on the play ground. There was no school bully. I was not kicked in the knee caps.

I was at my local gym, my lovely Highbury local gym at that. The instigator, my sweet natured gym instructor.

I was at the end of my work out, already shaking thanks to the voluntary personal training of 2 PTs & 1 member already this morning (we’re a friendly lot in Highbury), I was in a hurry & I’m really not someone to just say ‘yes’. But I did.

He swanned over, smiled sweetly (likability), complimented my Romanian deadlift technique  (ego) & said “I know you’re competitive, I think you’ll be really good at this (gamify)”. He explained the Fit Brit challenge (an intense inter-gym challenge to seek the fittest gyms in the country). I managed to say no at first. Then he added “you could totally beat the man who’s just done it” – clever, every girl likes to beat a man. I still hesitated. So, he put his arm around my shoulder (likability & ego once again)  turned to another PT and said “she’ll be great, right”. Seeing me waver on this first layer of social pressure, he asked another, then another of the PTs before I was surrounded by 6 all saying I’d be “great”.

My legs were shaking, not through intimidation but the previous 45 minutes of kettle bell torture, but still I said “yes”.

I gave way.

Come to think of it, I’m not sure I did say “yes”.

Perhaps I didn’t give way to social pressure after all. I’m pretty sure he guided me, arm around my shoulder, straight on to the treadmill and it all began before I even knew. He eliminated the biggest point of friction: the first step, he activated the power of now.

I didn’t fall victim to social pressure. I fell victim to the power of now.

Do I feel better for this realisation? No. My legs are still shaking. But I do have a new found respect for gym instructors application of behavioural economics.