Delivering Success
The Customer’s Always Right (unless they’re wrong)
In the direct mail business, like all businesses, the conventional wisdom say’s that “the customer is always right.” I respectfully disagree. In fact, I’d have to say that 9-times-out-of-10, our customer, the budding artist, is badly in error.
Allow me to explain:
We design and process direct mail advertising for a number of industries, with a heavy lean towards financial and insurance concerns. Our job, as I see it, is to take the client’s product and design a letter that will generate the biggest response possible. Over the years, we have gotten pretty good at what we do. We know what pulls and what doesn’t.
However, the past few years has seen a rise in the number of easy-to-use publishing software programs. These cheap enablers have turned the average person into the Monet of advertising copy. There is nothing more frightening than to see a letter emailed to us that practically jumps through the monitor from all the bright colors (usually 40 or 50 different shades) and big, bold print. For that little extra oomph, it’s sitting on a nice neon yellow background.
It’s really not the letter itself that bothers us, it’s the knowledge that we have to try and talk the customer down from this lofty perch. He, or she, just spent 5 days perfecting what they believe is the Cadillac of letters. From a pre-determined template that came free with the software package, the client has altered, moved, deleted, added, and re-colored the piece into a masterful work of art. “The flow (yep, they’ve learned the lingo), the style, the structure, the overall look of the piece is exactly what I was looking for.”
The advent of cheap, ready-to-use software wasn’t enough. We’ve seen the arrival of inexpensive color printers that produce copy clear enough to counterfeit $20 bills. It really is amazing. Photo-quality prints coming out of a $164 printer. But, oh so dangerous in the wrong hands. Now, the artiste´ can produce hard copies to show their family and friends, who politely tell them that it is an amazing, breathtaking work of art.
That’s where we come in. I have always believed that, to produce the best possible advertising piece for a client, particularly a budding artist, was to use tough love. At the very real possibility of losing a client, the truth must be told. It must come from the heart and soul. A little discretion is required, along with some handholding, encouragement, and praise for a job well done. Well done...but, wrong.
The fact is, what the client “needs” is not what the client “wants.” He, or she, “needs” the colors, beauty, originality, and sense of pride that follows the hours — nay, days — of blood, sweat & tears. However, the client “wants” response (our job.)
A typical discussion goes something like this:
Joe: “Did you get the email I sent you with my letter attached.” (Gulp X 2)
Me: “Uh, sure did Joe, and it looks spectacular.” (Encouragement)
Joe: “Thanks. I really spent a lot of hours getting it just the way I wanted.” (Uh-oh)
Me: “The use of colors, the form, the structure, it’s a thing of beauty.” (Ego builder)
Joe: “So, how do you think it will pull?” (Oh, geeez)
Me: “Well Joe, in looking at the piece, I might suggest we make a couple of changes, you know, just to improve the understanding of what it is you’re selling. Let’s see. Okay, how about we remove 39 out of the 40 colors. They may distract a bit from your message. Oh, and lets knock the font size of the headline from 184 to say, 18. Yeah, that will help. Finally, what do you think about getting rid of that great photograph of yourself? You’re eyes follow me whenever I move...a little disconcerting.” (Tough love)
Joe: “But that will change the entire look of the piece.” (Exactly)
Me: “Joe, I know you spent a lot of time and effort on this but, to be honest, what part of this letter do you think spurs the reader on enough to, not only read it, but to respond.” (Got him there)
Joe: “My wife told me that she’s never seen a letter this good. She said that she would respond to it in a heartbeat.” (Got me there)
Me: “You’re wife has excellent taste, Joe. She obviously knows beauty when she sees it.”
(With the realization of a losing battle, it’s time to pull out the big guns.) “Joe, I’ve seen a lot of great looking pieces over the years, nothing quite up to this one, of course. But, without fail, the response has been miserable. You see, the object of the letter is to pull the reader in and get them to understand the need for your services, not to impress them with your obvious talent.” (Lame praise)
Joe: “I used all of the tips and hints that I read from the Gurus on the web. Grabbers, teasers, it’s all there. I really think I’ve got a winner here. Let’s try it.” (Time for the last resort...money)
Me: “Of course, Joe, we’ll do whatever you want. You’re the client. Let’s see, 40 colors at $50 per, plus neon yellow paper, plus photo shooting, plus special fold, plus the tabbing, plus the labor involved in converting your masterpiece into something we can use, plus the extra postage for the weird size...you’re looking at something in the neighborhood of 50 times what you’re used to paying..” (Oh yeah baby, that’ll do it)
Joe: “Uh, okay, let’s do what we did before. Ya know, we actually got a pretty good response off that one.” (Atta boy, Joe)
Me: “Couldn’t agree more, Joe. You’ve made the right decision. Let me just say that you do have a real talent there, though. Something to hang on the wall, perhaps.” (Smooooooth!)
Prologue:
Some of our clients are going to read this. Please don’t be offended. The best analogy I can use is this:
As a kid, I once tried learning the guitar. I felt I could self-teach...didn’t want any coaches providing me with influence on how I should play. Upon learning the theme song to Bonanza and NBC’s sign-on, I knew I was on my way to becoming the next Jimi Hendrix.
As you can see, I now run a direct mail business. End of story.