Monthly Archives: September 2011

Don’t Typecast Search as “Direct”

First published September 29, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

We should have taken it as a sign of things to come.

The panel I was moderating at OMMA Global, with the highly provocative title “The Evolving Role of the Search Marketer,” was in a tiny room that seemed to be an afterthought of whoever planned the meeting space layout in the Marriott Marquis in New York. You actually had to walk through another, much larger room and go through a door tucked in the back corner. If one of the show organizers hadn’t been personally guiding me, I might never have found it.

The second sign was equally hard to miss. Outside the “secret” door to my session was a small standard that indicated that this was the “Direct” marketing track.

Okay, relegated to the back closet and in a track that restricted search to being a “direct” channel — so far things didn’t bode well for the insightful voyage of discovery I was envisioning.

Nevertheless, we forged ahead with a very enthusiastic audience (who were no doubt glad to just have found the session) and a very seasoned panel of search veterans (Rob Griffin, Havas; Dana Todd, Performics; Michael Verghios, Mindshare; Scott Brinker, ion Interactive). And we weren’t five minutes into the session before we started talking about search being pigeonholed as a direct channel.

In the beginning, we search marketers had no qualms about the “direct” label. As advertisers began demanding more accountability for each and every ad dollar, we were perfectly positioned to benefit from the budget migrations. Dollars poured into search, propelling Google to glowing financials quarter after quarter. We proudly evangelized the measurability of search, eagerly thrusting forth dashboards with a laser focus on ROI.

And it worked. We rode the wave through most of the last decade. Even when the economy ground to a screeching halt in 2008, search bounced through with nary a scratch, due largely to its credentials as the most effective digital direct channel. While marketing budgets as a whole were slashed, search budgets either stayed the same or grew marginally, thanks to the continuing inflow at the expense of other channels.

But somewhere in the midst of that giddy party, someone should have whispered in our ear, “Be careful what you wish for!” It’s like the actor who gets typecast in a role — just as Michael Richards seems doomed to be stuck in Cosmo Kramer’s persona, we may never shake the “direct” tag. We’re stuck at the direct marketing table –quite literally, in the case of the latest OMMA conference.

But, as we discussed in our session, that shuts the door to the huge potential of search to connect and inform all manners of marketing. Increasingly, consumer intent is playing out across a digital landscape and search is the “glue” that connects many of the dots. If search gets a seat at the strategic table, we can provide vital input into consumer behavioral trends, budget allocations and attribution models, targeting strategies and much more. Search remains the clearest crystallization of buyer intent available at any time in marketing history, anywhere. That’s what made it such a phenomenal direct channel, but its potential reaches beyond that. Its power remains only partly tapped as long as it’s considered solely a direct tactic.

Here’s one example. Prior to the recession, Google and other engines were struggling to break out of the direct box by commissioning research showing the branding power of search. My company did some of this work for them. We created search scenarios and then used standard branding recall metrics to measure brand lift. Sure enough, we found significant lift with effective placement on a results page. But the problem was that we were using the wrong yardstick. We were trying to measure search using metrics pioneered in other, less efficient media.

The true power of search, when it comes to branding, is positioning a brand in a critical place during the key consideration process. As buyers, we use search to help us compile a mental list of options to consider. If brands are present and prominent, they’re not only included, their credibility as an option is enhanced. But if they’re not, even if the buyer is aware of them, they run a real risk of being dropped from the consideration set.

We shouldn’t have been measuring search as a branding channel on the same footing as TV or magazines. It’s not. It’s actually even more exciting than that. Search is positioned at the critical branch in the decision path, where it can either significantly amplify the effects of those branding channels, or wipe out all their efforts in one fell swoop. That’s how potentially powerful search is.

But we may never get the chance to tell that message, which must be heard at the planning table where the overall strategies are drafted. You won’t hear us, because we’ll be over here at the direct table, somewhere in the back corners of the Marriott Marquis.

The Psychology of Couponing: Where Agillitee Went Wrong

First published September 22, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Is a Groupon model the next big thing for B2B? Apparently not. Or, at least, not now, based on an early trial by a Chicago-based consulting firm, Ajillitee. The company used Groupon to offer $25,000 worth of consulting services at half price.

It was the biggest deal Groupon had ever offered. Hey, keeping $12,500 in your pocket is nothing to sneeze at. And, since buying consulting services is not exactly the same as snagging a half-off lunch coupon, the offer stayed open for three weeks, giving all potential takers plenty of time to act.

But, at the end of the three weeks, the offer disappeared. The result? Nary a sale — not even one. Ajillitee extended the offer on its own website, with the same result.

“We were really trying to test the market,” said Ajillitee CMO Diann Bilderback. “What we learned was that we were early to the game. Groupon’s platform is the platform for this (online coupons), but it’s very consumer-oriented. The rules didn’t align with our kind of sale. Groupon works on snap decisions, but business decisions typically take longer.”

Well, that’s true. But there’s another element at play here. It’s the psychology of the deal itself. Do you really want to buy thousands of dollars of consulting services with a coupon? Even one saving you 50%? Thought not. Pizza? Sure! A pedicure? Maybe.  Half-price yoga? Sign me up. But critical information systems for your company? No thank you!

Coupons work well in certain markets, and not so well in others. For example, would you use a coupon for a doctor or a lawyer?  Probably not, but why? Why a pizza, and not a heart surgeon?

The answer can be summed up in one word: risk. Coupons work extremely well in some well-understood circumstances — to save money on something you were going to buy anyway, or when you want to treat yourself. In a previous series of columns, I talked about how all buying decisions are predicated on a balance of risk and reward.  Reward is the gas pedal, and risk is the brake pedal. If risk is very low, coupons can serve to push you past the tipping point and get you to act immediately rather than “someday.”  They accelerate latent consumer demand.

Coupons can also sway a purchaser from one brand to another, but this typically only happens when risk is minimal. Coupons work in the world of the “pretty good problem,” where all the options are within a range acceptable to the buyer. Think of laundry detergent, cheese slices or hand soap.

Finally, coupons can reduce the barriers keeping you from an indulgent impulse purchase. Coupons play on short-term gratification, introducing the promise of reward, compounded by the dopamine rush that comes from snagging a great deal. It amps up the “reward” portion of buying motivation so that the “risk” limiter doesn’t stand a chance. Groupon, in particular, pulls out all the psychological stops by throwing in equally addictive elements of geographically targeted rewards, limited availability and elemental crowd psychology. If this is the mental landscape you’re playing in, online couponing can definitely stack the odds in your favor.

But alas, B2B purchasing, especially big-ticket items like consulting, meets none of the above criteria. B2B is all about risk avoidance, and there is little reward driving these types of purchases. This came through loud and clear when I was researching my book, “The BuyerSphere Project.” Not only will a coupon offer fail to eliminate risk in these circumstances, it will actually increase risk by raising questions about the credibility of the consulting firm offering the coupon. If the consulting is any good, why are you offering it at half price? Are you that desperate for business?

Apparently, companies like Ajillitee haven’t given up on the concept.  A new rash of B2B oriented online couponing companies like BizyDeal and RapidBuyr are jostling each other in a rush to jump on the Groupon bandwagon.  If the types of deals offered are targeted to low-risk scenarios (copy paper and toner cartridges), they’ll probably work. But don’t expect to get a rush on coupons for consulting services, enterprise-level solutions or other big-ticket, complex purchases. When the buyer (or buyers) is looking at all risk and no personal reward, using couponing is like bringing a knife (or, more appropriately, a spatula) to a gunfight. It’s absolutely the wrong tool for the job.

Is it Time to Relabel ” Marketing?

First published September 15, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Last week, I asked the question, “Is the word ‘search’ the right label for what we do on Google, Bing, Yahoo and other engines?” When Internet search debuted in the early 90s, it was probably pretty accurate. But today, the concept may have passed the label by.

And, if that is true, then the same is probably true for “search marketing.” The main gist of my argument last week was that the word “search” implies the expenditure of a significant effort with no guarantee of a successful outcome. But today, more than ever, we look to these engines to connect us with information and functionality. We want to “do” things when we click through to the other side of the search results.

I also said that it was difficult to find any one label that covers all our intentions when we turn to a “search” engine. In the beginning, when the Web was one large bucket of ill-formed data, “search” worked as a universal label. But that’s not true today. Now, the Web is becoming increasingly structured, and a search engine that excels at bringing order to unstructured data often falls disappointingly short when it comes to actually getting stuff done. In trying to be the universal Swiss Army Knife of the Web for many common tasks, Google (or Bing) doesn’t do any of them particularly well, we’re starting to find.  For many tasks, a dedicated and specialized app often does a far better job of meeting our expectations.

Again, this starts to define the conundrum currently facing search marketers. When the label we used was “search,” our job was simply to make sure our sites were “found.” Within the parameters defined by “searching” (to explore in order to discover), our job was straightforward: reduce the exploration effort required on the part of the searcher by moving our sites into a more “discoverable” position.

But what if we substitute some of the other labels I suggested last week for the word “search”? Suddenly, our job becomes much more complex.

Let’s start with “connection.” In this case, buyer s already have an idea that the right online destination exists, so they also have a preconceived notion of what they would find there. In game theory, this is called “expected utility.” In this case, our job is not simply to make the site easy to find, but also to make sure it’s a relevant match for our prospect’s expectations. If it isn’t, we may capture the click but miss the conversion. And that puts a whole new spin on search marketing. To understand how to create a “connection,” we have to understand what happens on both sides of the click: pre-connection and post-connection.

This requires us to delve into our prospect’s “frame of mind.” Again, the words used here provide a clue for what’s required as a marketer. A “frame” colors our entire view of things. There’s even a term for it in psychology: the “framing effect.” It’s categorized as a cognitive bias, which means that our frames determine our reality. To be successful “connection” marketers, we have to be familiar with our prospect’s “frame” of reference. When we are, we can provide a relevant and persuasive post-click path.

But “connection” wasn’t the only alternative label I proposed. What about “action” or “fulfillment?” Again, both ask us to substantially stretch our horizons as a marketer.

“Action” is an even more determinant label than connection. If we’re looking to take “action,” each step interposed between the end goal and the prospect is another level of frustration. Here, our job as “action” marketers is to remove as many of the steps as possible between intent and action. Actions are usually well defined and specific. We should be equally as specific in the alternatives we provide our prospects. Our calls to action should be a clear invitation to “do” things.

“Fulfillment” is a little tougher nut to crack. To be “fulfilled” can take several forms. Is there an emotional component? How would the prospect define “fulfillment”? Is the post-click result a step towards fulfillment, or does it take a prospect all the way there? A successful “fulfillment” marketer should be part psychologist and part clairvoyant.

Given the challenge we have in even attaching a label to what it is we do, it’s no wonder that recent analyst reports are all reporting a common theme: the best search marketers are expanding into other services. We’re expanding beyond “search” into “social,” “mobile,” “local,” “display” and other channels. It’s not so much that “search” is passé, rather it’s that “search” isn’t really the right label anymore. I’m not sure that “social” or “local” are any better. Personally, I think the perfect word, whatever it turns out to be, should clearly identify “why” people are online rather than “what” they’re doing online.

What’s in a Word?

First published September 8, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

I served for six years as a director of the Search Engine Marketers Professional Organization. Every six months or so, we’d get together to talk about the future of the organization. As you can imagine, the future of an organization catering to industry professionals is inextricably linked to the future of the industry itself. So, our conversations weren’t so much about the future of SEMPO as they were about the future of search — and by extension, the future of search marketing.

Every time we embarked on this task of joint navel and crystal-ball gazing, we ran smack dab into the same dilemma: How do you define search? What is search? Should it even be called search any more? Esther Dyson, among others, thinks the term “search” may have outlived its usefulness. Perhaps “connection,” “fulfillment” or “action” has a better connotation. At least these words imply there’s something of substance on the other end of the search. They hint at successful outcomes. When Microsoft debuted Bing, the company sought to differentiate the product by calling it the “Decision” engine – “Bing is a search engine that finds and organizes the answers you need so you can make faster, more informed decisions.”

For me, words are important, so in trying to define the future of our industry, the words we choose to represent the concept tell us something about our feelings towards it.

Let’s start with “search,” the generic label we currently use: to “search” is to attempt to discover something. We search for a needle in a haystack. We search for a missing child or a runaway fugitive. We search for the truth. All seem to indicate an expenditure of significant effort but no guarantee of success. Given the state of the Internet when search engines debuted, it was an apt moniker. But today, that’s no longer the case. Today, I suspect, we launch almost every search with a clear expectation that somewhere out there, the information we seek exists. All we need is the right connection to it.

Given that, perhaps a “connection” engine is a better choice. To “connect” is to link known entities. Unlike with “search,” when we use the term “connect” we know our objective exists and we’re just trying to find the shortest path between points A and B.  The word better captures the navigational usage of search, which accounts for a huge percentage of total queries. I’ve used the term myself in the past when I’ve said that search is the “connection” between intent and content.

But even “connection” implies a certain statelessness. While it better captures our intent than does the verb search, I don’t know if it adequately represents the dynamic and participatory nature of our online activities. Whereas the verbs we used to use to define what we did online implied passive observance — “look,” “browse” and “surf” (I never did get that one, but at one time using it made you sound uber-cool) —  we now “book,” “post,” “comment,” “”tweet,” “buy” and participate in dozens of much more active ways, using more active verbs. Where once we went online to seek and consume information, we now want to “do” things.  We expect to do things. And so we use Google or Bing to find the right tool to allow us to do those things. That’s the rationale behind suggestions like “fulfillment” (to carry out, to satisfy or to develop to full potential) and “action” (something done or performed). Certainly, for some search tasks, calling Google or Bing an “action” engine would be a more appropriate description.

For some tasks — but not all. And that’s the problem we kept running into when we tried to define what search is. It’s tough to keep in any one box. It tends to be squishy and amorphous. And it has the habit of expanding into the ever-developing niches and crevasses of the online landscape.

So, was Bing right to call itself a “decision” engine? Is that the missing label that encapsulates all we look for in an engine? Do we need something to help us make better decisions (to compare and choose between alternatives)? It’s at least as good as “search”, and probably better, because it takes it one step further. It makes the assumption that the information about the best alternatives will be served to us by the engine.

While you might think this is just a frivolous exercise in semantics, I disagree. I think this question speaks to something fundamental in the evolution of search. We use words to label concepts — and when the labels no longer fit, it’s because the concept itself has changed. If we have trouble applying a word to something, it’s probably because we think of it in a different way than we used to. I believe this is true of search. And if we think of “search” differently, it means we must also think of “search marketing” differently.

Until next week…

A Peek “In the Plex,” by Steven Levy

First published September 1, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

As promised, this week I’ll be doing a quick review of Steven Levy’s book “In the Plex: How Google Thinks, Works and Shapes Our Lives.”

As a tech journalist, Levy had a perspective on Google that few others have enjoyed. John Battelle, who previous tackled Google in his book “The Search,” said, “I had limited access to folks at Google, and *really* limited access to Larry Page and Sergey Brin. Levy had the opposite, spending more than two years inside the company and seeing any number of things that journalists would have killed to see in years past.”

Levy was first introduced to Page and Brin in 1999, when Google was just another Silicon Valley start-up, albeit one that was creating a ton of industry buzz. Because of that early advantage, Levy was able to observe Google’s subsequent stages of evolution — from start-up to search dominance, from an atmosphere that seemed more of a religious  “cause” than “company,” from “don’t be evil” to “evil may be in the eye of the beholder.”

Given the intimate viewpoint afforded Levy, I couldn’t help coming away somewhat disappointed with the end result. Levy approached this as a journalist, resisting  the temptation to put Google’s story in a larger context. In his book, Battelle did a much better job of pinpointing Google’s place in the social fabric of our lives.

One could argue that they’re two different books, with two different objectives, but Levy’s subtitle, “How Google Thinks, Works and Shapes Our Lives” seems to promise more. The book does a good job delivering on the first two promises, but falls short on the third. Battelle managed to step back and give us a view of Google that, while admittedly awestruck, also intimated that we were on the cusp of a social change of immense importance that might not be positive in every way.  Battelle seemed much more comfortable with the bigger picture than Levy does, and the latter’s book suffers from this limited view.

The first half of “In the Plex” treads the same “Gee whiz, isn’t Google brilliant!” path that is rapidly becoming wearisome. We gain inside perspectives from some early Google employees, but find nothing that really adds to the Google canon here. I don’t disagree that Google was brilliant, especially in the early days, but that’s not particularly news to anyone at this point.

The book does begin to hit its stride in the second half when the shine wears off Google and it faces the bumps of dealing with a real world that doesn’t always align with Google’s admittedly naïve view of how things should be. The unexpected privacy backlash to Google’s attempt to monetize Gmail, the copyright battle sparked by Google Books, and the entire Google China debacle all paint a picture of a company that seems to shoot itself in the foot just as often as it shoots for the stars.

Levy also hints at some internal tension between Google’s triumvirate of Page, Brin and Eric Schmidt, or “LSE,” as Levy collectively refers to them. Page, in particular, never seemed to fully overcome his resentment of  the “adult supervision” forced upon Google in its formative years by early VC investors. Due to the timing of the book, we gain no insights into the behind-the-scenes story that led to Schmidt’s replacement as CEO by Page late last year. It seems there’s much more to the story than what we currently know, but you won’t be any the wiser by reading Levy’s book.

I also got the sense that just when things could have really become interesting, Levy stepped back. As Battelle noted in his review, “I was a bit disappointed with the book in that Steven didn’t take all that new knowledge and pull back to give us his own analysis of what it all meant. I asked him about this, and he said he made the conscious decision to not editorialize, but rather lay it all out there and let the reader draw his or her own conclusions.”

In my opinion, Levy’s decision not to editorialize diminishes the importance of the book. If you chart the tone of Google through Levy’s reportage, there is a definite arc, from naïve brilliance through world-dominating arrogance and back down to shock and disbelief that everything doesn’t always work out the way Google thinks it should.

I can’t help thinking that Google is at a critical point in its evolution, wondering what it will become in the future. As Levy states, Google is currently wrestling with “how it hopes to maintain its soul.” Levy could have provided unique insight into possible answers to that question, but he chose instead to leave it up to us.